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In honor of September 11th, my stepfather, a retired Marine, was asked to address my small hometown in Cali and speak at a remembrance ceremony. And across the country, I paid my respects here in NYC.
Having lived here (but just visiting on business at the moment), I always find it interesting how quiet this city can become when thoughts of 9/11 settle in, as if the collective consciousness becomes calmly introspective. Even the local news stations allow for silence on the air, followed by the lonely and haunting sounds of bagpipes which seem to play every year on the anniversary of that day.
It is hard to fathom, really. I suppose only a potent silence or a singular tune could really express what that day must have been like for so many.
But the respect people seem to have carried through is still expressed in small moments– as I was walking down the street, a firetruck was rounding the city block and a group of people, 4 or 5 grown men and women began clapping and one of them yelled out “Thank you!” in sort of a choked burst of emotion.
The honor here is palpable.
Now I wouldn’t consider myself a heavily religious person, but I have great fondness for the St. Paul Church near what is considered Ground Zero. This church was built in the 1760′s and has a history spanning from hosting George Washington’s inauguration to surviving the American Revolutionary War to surviving the attacks on September 11th. While buildings around it were destroyed in the collapse of the World Trade Center, this little church that could survived and became a place of refuge for rescuers and those rescued — while everything around it became chaotic debris, the church did not even have a broken window.
(photo by wallyg)
Inside of the chapel now stands a display of honor for those who’s lives ended or were altered forever by that day:
A chalice made from World Trade Center debris.
The boot of a rescue worker who gave his life.
Across this country, whether in a small town, uptown, or downtown, we come together in honoring all who were effected, all who are effected, and all who continue to serve our country and humanity on a whole.
Thank you.
Miraculously sunny day here in NYC ~ hooray!~ so I celebrated by venturing to lower Manhattan’s South Street Seaport. Apparently this area has the highest concentration of historic buildings in Manhattan and seems to have done a great job of maintaining that old maritime feeling (I actually felt like I should cheers with an ice-cold beer and yell “argh!” in a loud gruffy voice…maybe throw a barstool, etc.) with contemporary additions (shops and such) that add a bit of a Disneyland sort of animated feeling to the area.
The more recent appearances of J.Crew and Abercrombie & Fitch aside, mercantile buildings from the 19th century that have been renovated, sailing ships such as the Peking from 1911, old wooden planks, and creeky docks, I’m happy to say, still take center stage.
Well, for me they did.
So here are my tips for visiting the South Street Seaport:
1. Take a moment to appreciate the history. The heydey of the seaport was from 1820 – 1860! (I never stop loving the feeling of historic roots in NYC… I’m a bit of a nerd that way.)
2. Investigate the view– the Brooklyn Bridge, the juxtaposition of old and new, etc.
3. Eat/drink something while sitting outside. Lots of fun little/big cafes and eateries.
4. Wear sunscreen. Oops!
5. Take pictures. : )
Received a note that the folks at “Schmap!!” have selected one of my photos of the empire state building to include in their “beyond the map” travel guides (7th edition). Fun! I feel so official.
And here’s the actual photo. Nothing brilliant but it’s making me recall, with great fondness, what the sky looks like. Ah, Sunshine. *Sigh*
The High Line park debuted itself to the city of Manhattan last week — the perfect opportunity to investigate this long (1 1/2 mile) elevated park on the West Side of the city. This reprieve from the city streets below is surprisingly calm — one genuinely feels a bit smoother on the inside upon arrival. And I know this wasn’t just me — the pace of the people walking the length of the park (that spans through the Meatpacking District, West Chelsea, and Clinton’s/Hell’s Kitchen) on opening weekend was that of a meander. A rare pace in the (great!) madness that is Manhattan.
The original “High Line” was built in the 1930′s when the city decided that sending speeding trains through Manhattan was not an all-together safe idea — apparently, when the tracks were still at street level, their path was referred to as “Death Avenue” — men on horseback rode in front of the trains (West Side Cowboys!) to alert people that a train was coming. So cool! (And yet logistically frightening!)
(Image from the High Line Website– click through to see more or visit the High Line Blog for more info.)
Anyway, today they integrated the original train tracks into the design… mixing horticulture and history. A great addition to the city indeed!
