A Philadelphian Visits Ground Zero

The way that Philadelphians look at New York City may never be the same again.

It has always been far too easy for Philadelphians to say that they hate New York. After all, New York has always been the bigger city to the north that casts its huge shadow over our town. New York has had the more successful sports teams. Its political leaders have risen to much more national prominence. It gets the better musicals and plays - and all with their original casts. The list goes on and on. All of that changed on September 11, 2001. 

Business took me to New York the day after the three month anniversary of the attack on the World Trade Center. I decided that I would head north early in the day. Something within me was driving me to see the place that is now known simply as Ground Zero. 

In looking back, I think my decision to someday visit the site was actually made just a few weeks after the attack, as I drove north on the New Jersey Turnpike. I recall looking east where I would always see the tops of the World Trade Center, thus telling me that I was approaching the end of the turnpike. I remember feeling a sense of sadness and loss because I could no longer see those familiar twin towers.

My train from Philadelphia arrived at Penn Station on West 34th Street. From there it's only a short subway ride to the Chambers Street stop where the 1 Route now ends. The route used to pass directly beneath the plaza between the towers. From the station it is just a short walk to the northern perimeter of Ground Zero.

Over three months have passed since the attack. Much of the above-ground debris has been removed. The first sight you see are the collapsed remains of WTC 7. Seeing the damage to just this one building makes the events of September 11, 2001 seem much more real. (Most of the debris from the Twin Towers themselves has been removed.) 

You can easily walk around three sides of the site and get partial views of the devastation. At many places you can get to within a block or two of the actual site. The images on TV may be clearer and closer, but only in person, as you walk the perimeter, can you really appreciate the extent of the damage.

At first you sense a great sadness as you see the site and watch the faces of other visitors and of area workers standing outside their buildings on a break. You see tears in the eyes of many. Most faces, however, are almost expressionless. It is as if they are staring into space for something that is just not there. So many of the people are still in a sense of shock, or perhaps it's denial. At some point, you feel a sense of anger, but, surprisingly, that feeling does not dominate your emotions.

As you walk around the perimeter you can't help but notice the number of businesses that are closed. Those that remain open are almost all having sales - 25%, 50%, even 75% off all merchandise. Most of them probably will not survive.

Above all else you notice the quiet. You can be standing in a crowd of fifty people and you notice that no one is talking. At St. Paul's Chapel, at Broadway and Fulton, the church's block-long fence has become a de-facto shrine as people from all around the world leave or send banners, flowers, posters, teddy bears and so many messages - messages to those who were lost and messages of appreciation for those who have worked so hard over the past few months.

This was a place where people of all ages and races, New Yorkers and those from other places, all have felt driven to visit - each for their own, very personal, reason. 

I returned uptown. With some time to spare, I walked up Broadway through Times Square to Rockefeller Center. Here New York City is very much alive. People are shopping for holiday presents. Families still flock to see the city's famous Christmas tree and to skate beneath it. On Broadway the crowds still gather for the afternoon matinee of the latest hit musical, Mama Mia. Scalpers still hawk their tickets. 

New York City lives on and will continue to do so. The resilience of the city and its people is inspiring.

Many of us will never look the same way at New York City ever again - and, you know, that's perfectly alright. Very little in our lives is the same as it was just a few months ago.