A visit to The September 11th Memorial…A New Yorker’s Tale.

It took me a long time to do this.  Several months ago, The CFO and his wife, The Southern Bomb, were in town with the kids, and I took them to the September 11th Memorial but did not go in.  Actually, I have brought many people to the site since it opened so they could visit, but I refused to go in.  I don’t know what it is, but as many times as I have been down to Lower Manhattan (and I’ve made several trips to Century 21 — the department store, not the real estate agency — across the street from the site), I have never, ever had the nerve to go in.  It is different for people who live in this town versus out-of-towners. Tourists flock to the Memorial, and that’s what it’s there for — it’s a place to visit and pay your respects.  But, for us New Yorkers, it’s more than just a place to visit, it’s a Black Hole in our neighborhood, our city and our lives.  (Note to tourists:  It is particularly disturbing, off-putting, and frankly, sickening, to see someone cheesing it, posing it up while leaning on the pools or adjacent to the pools.  Remember, this is not just any place.  It is also a grave yard.  Have some respect.  It isn’t Disney.)

I now see my life in segments, and for this one it is: Before September 11th and after September 11th.  I don’t know if that’s a good way to live, but this is real; it is just how it is, and this is how we all speak.  How many times have you said, ”I remember before September 11th…” or “Remember that place that used to be near…(insert number and name of one of the former World Trade Center towers)”?

After so many years, you would think this would be easy.  It took so much to even muster the courage to go in.  Memories of what was came flooding back.  It was such a beautiful autumn morning, with the bluest sky and a hint of a breeze, and it rapidly turned into a horrifying series of events.  My heart hurts.  Literally, my heart feels heavy.  I didn’t lose anyone close to me.  Should I call myself lucky?  But, I did know of a few people who did not survive.  (My friend’s cousin’s name appears in one of the photographs, but I won’t disclose it.  Just remember, they’re more than just names.  They’re people, people who had lives and families.  They were murdered.  Yes, this was mass murder.  Let’s not sugar coat it.)

To locate the name of someone, this is helpful.

I remember going through the old World Trade Center complex so many times — the underground shops, seeing the shoe shine guys, the eateries…I can’t believe they’re all gone.  This was an obscenely large place — a concrete city in a city almost, and it turned into an eerie place of destruction and utter devastation.  And now, seeing the place from high above and down below, with a group, was not the best move.

The group fragmented as we went in, and I ended up all alone.  I was one of the last to leave the Memorial, as a police officer came over and said they’d be closing in 5 minutes.  The police officers, the volunteers and the workers were very nice.  But, I was a mess, choking inside. There I was, wandering around by myself.  I couldn’t help but notice the beautiful green grassy patches.  Everything was immaculate.  But then you looked up and noticed the construction on the Trade Center Towers, as well as the Museum (which should open within the next 2 years).  Tower 1 or the “Freedom Tower” is at its completed height.  It is incredible, majestic, awe-inspiring, but something is just so wrong because it confirms this is not the old World Trade Center, and it never, ever will be.

I looked in the middle of both pools — the North and South Pools — the footprints of 1 World Trade Center and 2 World Trade Center, and I had to catch my breath.  You look at the center of these pools and it’s unbelievable.  Then you look at the entire structure and all the water pouring down, and it’s like the structure is weeping…just water, water, water, gushing down the center into the giant hole, and really, it’s almost as if it’s wailing.  Speechless.

You have to understand the perspective of someone who knew this entire area before and to see what it is now from the inside looking out is a bit shocking.  It doesn’t look like it used to look prior to September 11, 2001.  I’m a downtown chick.  Anything below 23rd Street is really my ‘hood.  So, my first visit to the World Trade Center must have been in the mid-80s because I lived in The Village and all points south.

Wednesday, June 20, 2012 has been imprinted in my mind.  Silverstein Properties, the developer and leasing agent of the new 2, 3, 4 and 7 World Trade Center, provided a unique opportunity to visit their offices, high in the sky at 7 World Trade Center, before the visit to the Memorial.  They could not have been a more gracious host.

But in a moment of reflection, I wasn’t ready…or maybe I was, but I should never have gone with that group?  I don’t know.  But I feel regret that I hadn’t visited with family when I had the chance a few months ago.  Everything happens for a reason, and just maybe, I was meant to be there on that day, on that time, under those circumstances.

Nuu Yawkers are toughies — we are, but a piece of your heart dies inside.

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New Yorkers can bring you to the edge–and not in a good way…and that’s coming from a ‘Nu Yawker’.

For two and a half whole days, I played ‘tourist’ and ‘tour guide’ while my cousin (The CFO), his wife (The Southern Bomb), their daughter (The Mini Diva) and their son (The Guy) – collectively known as “The Sequel” — visited New York.  My cousin had been here many, many times over the years — especially when we were kids, but as an adult, not as much.  So, this was a huge deal: The Sequel came in search of the tourist experience.

Central Park, as seen from the Top of the Rock at 30 Rockefeller Plaza (New York City)

Without boring you about where we went…

…alright, alright…I’ll tell you really quickly:

  • FAO Schwarz (The Mini Diva was loving the store, especially having a go on ‘The Big Piano’ — if you remember the movie “Big” with Tom Hanks and the scene with him playing “Heart & Soul” on the piano on the floor, well, this is the store)
  • Rockefeller Center/’Top of the Rock‘ (at 30 Rockefeller Plaza)
  • Times Square (a.k.a. The Crossroads of the World)
  • Toys “R” Us (Times Square — we took a ride on the store’s indoor ferris wheel — yes, a humongous ferris wheel)
  • Harlem* (we stopped at the Harlem Underground — a great place to pick up some really hip and trendy tees and other types of clothing; we also visited the Apollo Theater)
  • Radio City Music Hall (we took the backstage tour and The Mini Diva got to have her picture taken with a Radio City Rockette!)
  • Madame Tussaud’s (Times Square)
  • Intrepid Sea, Air & Space Museum (I plan to return once the Space Shuttle arrives, and it should by the end of this month!)
  • September 11th Memorial (we took the scenic route using the Water Taxi from the closest pier stop near the Intrepid; we were able to see all of Manhattan’s West Side and the New Jersey coastline, and once we arrived, it was a short 10 minute walk to the Memorial from Battery Park)
  • Attended the Broadway play, ’The Lion King‘ (you’ll break the bank by going, but it is worth every penny – simply, amazing!  Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant!)

The Empire State Building from high above the Top of the Rock at 30 Rockefeller Plaza (New York City)

When I’m up and about running around the city, I never give certain things a second thought, like the insane crowds, the frantic pace, the occasional obnoxious attitudes, the grime, the headaches…but, playing tourist with The Sequel, going at a slower pace, and seeing the city through a different pair of eyes, I’m not kidding when I say this:

New Yorkers can bring you to the edge–and not in a good way…and that’s coming from a Nu Yawker.

People were trying to run The Guy over in the stroller and The CFO was ready to turn the lights out on a few people…but he practiced restraint.  When people are rough, you get rough, tensions bubble to the surface, and it spoils whatever happy feelings you may have.  It can totally ruin a person’s holiday and it ain’t cheap to come to The Greatest City in the World.  I’d be good and pissed if I left unhappy after paying thousands of dollars for only a few days.

Lemme tell you…This is a tough, a** city.  In two and a half days, I was ready to fight and cuss people out like a raving b*tch (including at the Water Taxi stop after our great visit to the Intrepid), and in the next breath was just in love – like admiring the beautiful skyline and having the most terrific tour guide at Radio City Music Hall and chatting with the guides at the September 11th Memorial (they’re all identified by clearly marked jackets) while I waited for The Sequel as they took the tour of the site (no, I didn’t go in).

Highs and lows.  New York is like a roller coaster ride.  I can clearly see how if you’re a tourist, you’d be wiped out physically and emotionally when you leave.

I’m glad I was able to give The Sequel a taste of the “Big Apple” as a ‘local’ but if you’re planning to visit, words to the wise:

Be prepared when you get here.  If something rubs you the wrong way, develop a thick skin and FAST, don’t dwell on it — just ”keep it moving”.  And another word to the wise, if you’re not a New Yorker, watch what you do and say. You may regret it.  Finally, buy a NYC MetroCard.  You can purchase them in any subway station.  Travel like a local.  It’s a helluva lot cheaper than taking (official yellow) taxis everywhere.

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*We didn’t take the Harlem Heritage Tour, but that’s an option, if you’re not up for exploring on your own.

The Manhattan skyline along the Hudson River