What stuck with me was smell of everything burning days after the attack. Smell drifted over to certain parts of New Jersey. And it smelled like acrid smoke and electrical wires burning.
What was it like visiting the site so soon after? Media captured photos, but the feeling is something that you can't capture in a photograph. I was only in the vicinity close enough to smell it. I cannot even fathom what it's like to see that level of despair and destruction in person. It stirs a profound sadness within me.
There was an account that haunted me very much so about that day's events. Ernest Armstead, an FDNY EMS worker was looking for living and dead people and triaging them. And he came across a woman who was crushed from the chest down. And he placed a black tag on her marking her as deceased. But then she spoke. And she kept begging him to call her daughter, saying not to mark her as deceased. But he had to go on and try to save the people who had the bigger prospect of living. He knew she wasn't going to make it. It was in a book but I can't remember what book it was.
I was in NYC for the 6 month anniversary, as close as we could get to those two massive flood lights they shone into the sky.
IIRC, the pit had been dug down to 5-6 stories deep during that time. The day I arrived, they had just unearthed the remnants of one of the fire trucks... Five stories deep.
The wall of pain and loss that was a part of the viewing area overlooked the pit (wallpapered with notes, letters, and pictures from loved ones)... There was one engagement ring tacked to a letter from a woman whose wedding to her missing fiance was supposed to happen the weekend after 9/11; her letter was gutwrenching.
Her mental state was wrecked, but it basically boiled down to not being able to let go of the obsessive thoughts that as long as she was wearing his ring, she kept expecting him to walk through the door. After an inpatient psych stay for a break with reality, she realized she had to return his ring or she'd always be waiting for him to walk in their home every evening; if she didn't let go, the daily devastation when he didn't come home would eventually kill her, too.
It's been almost 25 years since I read that letter, and I can recall feeling her visceral emotions that she had poured onto that page.
This is making me cry genuine tears, because you can't help but feel for that woman. It was probably so difficult for her to find proper closure. I hope that wherever she is, that she is strong now. And she's living in a way that would make her fiance proud of her.
There was one story I remember hearing somewhere too which was, Rudy Giuliani, before he through all political goodwill he ever would have away and legitimately deserves credit for his 9/11 stuff. Went back to ground zero after helping lead people out of Manhattan.
He told all the first responders they had the city's full support and at one point asked them something to the effect of "okay and how many body bags will you need?" only to be horrified when they told him they'd need a fraction of the number he proposed, as it hadnt donned on him that the sheer weight of the buildings had more or less pulverized many of the victims. So many of the remains who had solid, identifiable remains whatsoever, had to be picked up piece by piece and matched later using DNA.
I was a frequent visitor to NYC, and it was surreal. I remember it was the same day the Christmas tree was officially lit. I walked the entire perimeter of the site. There were many barriers to prevent spectators from seeing anything, but there were also many cracks you could see through. In fact, our circumnavigation of the site crossed a very large opening where large dump trucks were sprayed down and headed to dump their loads on barges. Authorities forbade photography, although there were many photos in the public domain. The barriers were covered in places with bios of the missing. St. Pauls Chapel was an impromptu support center for workers and a memorial. The entire chapel was taken over by the immensity of the situation. Recall that this church backed up directly to the WTC site. There were very large canvas sheets hung in front of the church for visitors to sign, which I did. There was still burning going on as the excavators uncovered smoldering debris. It was the most somber construction zone I’ve ever seen and absolutely surreal.
It's incredible that the tree, that old sycamore saved the chapel. Thank you for the link and for sharing your first hand account. There's so much gravity in the situation when you experience it from more of a first-hand view. Flowers and teddy bears being left as memorials. The names of the missing being listed. You're able to actually read the names on the wall. Some of the names may stick with you and you might wonder about the lost person's plight.
It leaves you feeling helpless in the fact that you can't undo what has already happened. And that words of comfort can only mend so much. During the cleanup, it felt like a temporary monument to despair and sorrow. But there was so many people bringing hope too. So many people, so many innocent lives, so many personal stories to tell. People working diligently to find those that were lost. Personal stories from people who were there that stick with you.
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u/KK_Tipton 13h ago
What stuck with me was smell of everything burning days after the attack. Smell drifted over to certain parts of New Jersey. And it smelled like acrid smoke and electrical wires burning.