Yesterday's groundbreaking ceremony of the World Trade Center transit hub saw a number of politicians and designer Santiago Calatrava to the mark the first construction activity at Ground Zero. Calatrava and his daughter Sofia released doves/white pigeons into the air from Falcon Environmental Services with Governors Pataki (NY) and Codey (NJ), Senator Clinton, Mayor Bloomberg, and Tranportation Secretary Minetta looking on. The $2.2 billion transporation center will bring an estimated 10,000 construction jobs downtown, but construction won't officially begin until after September 11, when families traditionally get to visit the Twin Towers' footprints at Ground Zero. The NY Times has a cross-section graphic of the new hub and how it will hold various transit lines.
The Times also has an article about how New Yorkers think about September 11, 2001 now four years later. For Gothamist, it creeps up on us at various times, like when we are coming back into Manhattan or when we just cross the street. We think about it, it's in our consciousness, but it doesn't overtly impact our daily life (aside from generally wanting the world to be a better place). Reporter Jennifer Steinhauer describes it accurately:
:It seems that a great many New Yorkers exist in a state of repression mixed with heavy doses of both fatalism and optimism, ever cognizant that their city could be a target again, yet unwilling to leave or, in most cases, surrender their routines. In interviews with dozens of residents all around the city, the great majority began the conversation saying that Sept. 11 2001, was rarely on their minds. But after talking for 10 minutes, their faces would pinch and they would look into the distance remembering where they were that day, the feeling of low-grade fear that lingers in tunnels and airports, and their ambivalence about the ensuing political experience of the country.How do you remember September 11?





I remember it every day as I take the Staten Island Ferry home. I can still hear the soft crush of the ash under my feet, like dirty snow, as I made my way to ferry. Then as the ferry pulled in - it was still running at 7:00 that evening - I remember how a group of firefighters stepped off the boat from Staten Island and those few of us waiting to be shuttled to safety spontaneously burst into applause as they headed north toward the WTC site. Most of all I remember the silence. In the middle of the hectic city that never stops moving, that is the stillest I have ever seen it.
As a relatively "new" New Yorker, I probably remember that day quite differently than most of you. Living in Boston at the time, I remember walking off the train into an empty street with F-15s flying over downtown. Living here in NYC, my trip to work from Brooklyn takes me past a view of Lower Manhattan every day... and there's no mistaking that void of space you see as the place where the WTC once stood. It's a daily reminder, for me, of how things have changed in this world.
Everything downtown was frozen in time. I remember the newspaper boxes on the 12th. They still had the 11th date on the papers.
That smell; the smoke had a very distinctive, scratchy scent.
Then the days afterward. In the subways, everyone on the train was quiet. The missing posters started appearing everywhere. The military vehicles parading up and down the avenues.
It still haunts me.
Some of us have NEVER stopped thinking about that event.
Some have also never stopped thinking about its true meaning. Unfortunately, far too many people have never recognized it for the psy-op it was/is...