Towers collapse onto themselves incinerating all and everyone within. This is memorial, museum and crypt. Real and symbolic artifacts remind each visitor of loss, pain and fear. Water within two pools falls into itself. It soothes while names etched on the sides hold onto people who perished here.
Inside we see and hear the looping news, the stories, and the personal mementos of that day. Pained faces break one’s heart. In the most solumn of spaces visitors look up the names and bios of loved ones.
They rest here in the dust covered displays, in their desperate notes, in the lumps of composite, and in our memories.
This generation will remember where they were September 11. Ours remembers November 11. For the one before it may be August 6 or December 7. Violence and tragedy continue. The sole consolation being ‘it could have been worse’.
It will take time and the best of humanity to move from fire and ash to the healing waters of forgiveness and peace.