Feature Articles

Wounded City: Live from Ground Zero

from Totally Fushed, September 2003 / The Yoke (revised), 2003

Travelling in a taxi from JFK International Airport to our rented apartment in Manhattan’s West Village, it becomes apparent that the people of New York City are still reeling from the attacks of September 11, 2001. Like blood from a wound, raw feelings always threaten to rise to the surface. Our cab driver speaks openly about his ‘9/11’ experiences. Business – the tourist market in particular – has not yet recovered, he says, though it is getting better. The world changed that day, he tells us, and a lot of pain was caused for a lot of people. As outsiders looking in, we don’t really know what to say, and so merely sit back and enjoy the manmade beauty – one of the most incredible skylines in the world, and liberal spatterings of carefully placed greenery. The evening sunlight twinkles in the leaves. 

When we reach our cluttered yet cosy apartment, the owner, too, shares his ‘9/11’ memories. He was evacuated from his residence for ninety days. And when he was ready to go back, he reveals with a bitter grin, his wife left him. The people here are very open. He proceeds to offer me a Heineken, which I am only too pleased to accept. It may be my last alcoholic beverage for some time, given that I am now relegated to under-age status.

That night, taking a stroll around the area, looking for somewhere to eat, one of the first things I notice is the flags. American flags – they’re everywhere. In shop windows, billowing from house balconies…Their presence makes you feel somehow awkward, or inadequate, as if everyone else here knows something, or feels something, that you don’t. From just walking the streets, as well, you see why New York is called the ‘melting pot’. All human life is here, from unabashed lesbian couples, to people so obese they look more like cartoon characters, to perfect Aryan specimens of humanity. We sit and eat pizza for a while, before tiredness droops our eyes and we return to the apartment, sleep yawning comfort over us, and I think of the next day’s task. 

When morning awakes us, we head out towards Ground Zero, what the locals call the ‘hole in the ground’. As we near the site, it becomes clear that – despite the toppling of those two towering symbols of US power and prosperity – the American Way still very much prevails on the streets of New York. That is to say, there are stands selling souvenir ‘9/11’ photo albums, T-shirts with images of the collapsed buildings on them, and other such mildly obscene items. I suppose there are two ways that you can view this commercialisation of September 11. You can see it merely as crass consumerism. Or, in a more benevolent light, it could be seen as something good coming out of horrific events. After all, these items are providing someone’s livelihood.

Whatever about many ordinary citizens seeking financial gain from the devastating events of ‘9/11’, much more disturbing is the politicisation of the terrorist attacks which is taking place. It was recently reported, for example, that the cornerstone of the first new building to be erected on the World Trade Center site is due to be laid during the Republican Party’s National Convention next year, which is being held in New York. Coincidence? Unlikely. In addition, at fundraisers last year, Republicans were selling photos of President Bush on the phone to Vice President Cheney after the attacks for some ludicrous amount of money. Meanwhile, one survivor of the WTC attack is charging $911 for two-hour interviews, and one New York firm is using the fact that it lost several workers in the events of S11 as part of its advertising strategy. Like so much else in America, September 11 has become an industry, and at worst a mere catchphrase, through which fortunes are made, even wars are waged.

These thoughts rush through my mind as we round on the ‘hole in the ground’. What greets us is a massive building site, dotted with bulldozers and the ubiquitous American flags. The area is surrounded by metal railings, and facing the street at the topmost end is a memorial listing all the ‘heroes’ who died on September 11. 

There is an eerie sense of loss that rises from this vicinity. Here a city lost part of its soul, and a people were shocked out of complacency. The more I think about it, the more I realise what genius it was on the part of the terrorists to strike at New York City, and at the Twin Towers in particular. Can you think of any city which epitomises the mass of cultures that is America more? Or any two more recognisable symbols of American economic power? Or any two buildings where there was more potential for loss of life? Never forget that 50,000 people worked in the WTC. Perhaps the true miracle of S11 is that less than 3,000 of those people died. On the day, the vast majority of occupants of both towers managed to escape. The engineers definitely did something right when they designed those buildings. 

It would be easy to think, too, that it was only the Twin Towers that were affected by those planes on the morning of September 11, 2001. The World Trade Center encompassed seven structures, all of which collapsed. In total, around eighty buildings were damaged. While I am here, a fifty-storey skyscraper beside the WTC site, which was irreparably damaged by the events of ‘9/11’, is still waiting to be demolished. The whole building is covered in black tarpaulin; its windows are boarded up. On the morning of S11, 130,000 jobs were lost. An estimated further 80,000 have been lost since. The legacy of September 11 for Americans is not merely a faraway ‘War on Terror’, it’s economic upheaval at home. Then there is the loss to every family involved, and to the collective sense of invulnerability. And I haven’t even mentioned the 800 dead at the Pentagon, or Flight 93.

Somewhat removed from the railings which surround the construction site is a long wall on which hundreds have inscribed their condolences. There are even a few words as Gaeilge from Tomas, Dublin, who urges an end to terror. A few metres away from this, a makeshift monument thanks the American people for their strength and support. Beside the compulsory US flag is a UK flag. This is interesting, as British Prime Minister Tony Blair has received a lot of respect, even a certain amount of reverence, from the American public for his unflinching support since ‘9/11’. While at home Blair faces perhaps the toughest episode of his premiership over Iraqi weapons of mass destruction, here it’s all flowers and praise. A recent New York Times article by Nicholas D. Kristof, headed ‘In Blair We Trust’, sums it up nicely: ‘A poll by the Pew Research Center found that Mr. Blair was the world leader Americans trusted most (Mr. Bush ranked second)…’ Just a few days ago, Blair became only the fourth British leader ever to address the United States Congress, and the first Prime Minister since Winston Churchill to be awarded the Congressional Gold Medal. 

I don’t stay at Ground Zero for too much longer. Despite recognising the deep tragedy that took place, I cannot feel the real sense of personal grievance so many here clearly feel. Throughout the rest of our trip to New York, the shadow of September 11 is cast over everything. On a boat ride around Manhattan, a minute’s silence is observed as we pass the WTC site. Atop the Empire State, a short film laments the loss of that building’s ‘fallen brothers’. At the main tourist attractions, the queues are almost non-existent – a real sign of a tourist recession. But New York goes on, and she is still one of the greatest cities in the world. Walking late one evening, I am flecked with the sweat of a passing jogger, and stop at a lamppost for a cooling drink in the summer heat. I marvel at the sights surrounding me – such a beautiful skyline, people of all persuasions and creeds living together and enjoying each other’s diversity. Perhaps the city of New York is one of humanity’s greatest achievements.

Returning home from my visit to the collapsed World Trade Center, I flick through the souvenir booklet I have purchased (yes, I have bought into the commercialism of the occasion), Day of Tragedy: September 11, 2001 by Barbara Shangle and Robert D. Shangle. A poem on the back page reads: ‘The Greatness of America / is a Guiding Light to Freedom and Liberty / throughout the world. // The display of Patriotic American symbols / honors the Founders of the American Republic / and the hundreds of thousands who have given their life / to protect and perpetuate that which is America.’ So America’s great love affair with itself continues, and continues to be played out before a sometimes admiring, often cynical world. In his speech before Congress, Tony Blair declared that all predominant power is transient: ‘The question is: What do you leave behind?’ I think of another Blair quote. In October 2001, the Prime Minister asked for the response to September 11 to be not merely the punishment of the guilty, but the creation of a world where such barbaric acts are things of years gone by. Such a legacy is what most of us desire. And yet, as Blair’s own actions show, it is so much easier aspired to than achieved.

© 2008 benmurnane.com.