Pieces Falling

The joke at Tribute had always been that it wasn’t a real tour unless there was an Australian in the group. And it was true.

Having a New Yorker on the tour, however, had been rare. But as the tenth anniversary of the attack drew near, more locals began visiting the 9/11 Tribute Center.

One couple from Long Island commented, “It’s been ten years. We thought we should come.”

By midsummer there were camera crews and reporters from all over the world. As I walked down the street, I heard many languages spoken.

On one tour I had a Japanese television crew, a Brazilian newspaper reporter, twenty tourists, and a Tribute staff member to help fend off any issues with the media.

For years I had been ending every tour with these words: “Our tour ends here at this beautiful memorial—the American Express Eleven Tears Memorial—but some day there will be a memorial across the street.”

That day had finally arrived.

On September 11, 2011— a decade after the attack—eight acres of the World Trade Center site reopened as the National September 11 Memorial Plaza. On that first day, only family members and first responders were permitted. The next day it opened to the general public.

As in the past, I didn’t attend the official ceremony at the World Trade Center. To be honest, I don’t believe I can take on the collective grief of all of those people.

Near the first anniversary I had mentioned to Emily and Meghan that some anniversaries—the first, fifth, tenth and so on—would get more attention from the media and people in general. As family members we don’t need a reminder of how long it has been—we know that every day.

Through the years, depending on each of our schedules, I may or may not be with my daughters on the anniversary. But even when we are apart, we always call each other. We shed a few tears. And I remind Emily and Meghan how much their daddy loved them, and how very proud he would be of the women they have become.

When the memorial opened, I wanted my first visit there to be alone. I ordered my pass through the family–only designated website for the first Monday in October.

It seemed to be a meaningful day to go. Ten years earlier, on the first Monday in October, I had gone back to work for the first time since Bruce’s death. We had just held his memorial service and were in the process of establishing our new normal.

There is an expression, “If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans.” Well, I guess He was chuckling because He had a different idea about my first visit.