On Sunday we went to ground zero. I definitely got a feeling while I was there. It was almost like a reverence you feel in a church. I felt like I should talk in a hushed voice.
This is the new building.
This is the progress that has been made on it.
There was this beautiful memorial on the wall right by ground zero. I would loved to have gotten a picture of the whole thing but there was a tour guide standing there, front and center, reading facts and figures to his group. He was going on and on and would not step aside. Even the members of his group looked bored. It was very frustrating and quite frankly, rude. If it weren't for the feeling there I may have gotten feisty but I didn't want to be disrespect in that area.
I know that it was hard for Paul to be there and yet he wanted to walk around the whole area. He still has a lot of anger. He lived in New York (On Long Island) for several years as a boy and has memories of the twin towers. I will never forget him calling me when the attacks happened. Andrew was just a five months old. When he called it woke me up. I couldn't believe he would call so early when we had a new baby. At that point only one tower had fallen. He was trying to explain what was happening but I couldn't comprehend the severity of what was going on. All I knew was my husband was devastated. I turned on the TV and watched in horror.
Right now it is hard to imagine that this was the site of such devastation. I'm glad that we have recovered and made as much progress as we have but it's not enough. Each time I saw a firetruck with it's lights flashing and a flag waving off the back or I heard it's sirens echoing between the buildings I couldn't help but think of how it must have been to be in the city on 9/11. I can't even imagine. The sounds alone must have been the stuff of nightmares. It was always on my mind. We will never be able to get back what we lost that day. Bastards.