Everybody who’s old enough remembers exactly where they were when the towers fell; I was in fifth grade at school, they sent us home home with the excuse they were spraying the field with chemicals; my friend Owen came home with me; my mom sent him home because she thought it was probably better for him to be with his family. At the time we were too young to fully understand the scale of what had happened; the aftermath affecting and changing the domestic and international landscape for years to come.
I’ve been wanting to go to the World Trade Center memorial since it was completed in 2011 and finally had the opportunity a couple of weeks ago. I joined my friend and his siblings who were going to show their Spanish cousin around. Like two giant scars on the earth the memorial sits as a reminder to what happened and to those who lost their lives with each name inscribed on the surrounding metal; water flows down and toward the center disappearing from sight, a reminder of the continuity of life and the foundation of it. Just as water creates life and is necessary to sustain it, the One World Trade Center situated adjacent to the memorial is a testament to this continued existence; it sits like a beacon of our rebirth and continued survival.
A visit to the area wouldn’t be complete without a visit to the museum. Less like a museum and more like a emotional journey, it is a place to reflect and where one can feel personally connected to a day which shook the United States and the world. A sobering experience, upon exiting it takes you a few minutes to realize your back in the real world, but the sorrow will stay with you for the rest of the day and your perspective will be forever changed.