In the weeks after 9/11 I refrained from going to Ground Zero, as I felt it would be sacrilegious to go as a "tourist."
In 2001, I worked in Albany, New York and went to New York City once or twice a week for work. In the weeks after 9/11 I refrained from going to Ground Zero, as I felt it would be sacrilegious to go as a "tourist." In December I had occasion to go to lower Manhattan to have lunch with a friend who works for the Manhattan DA's Office and I walked past St. Paul's Chapel. On the fence in front of St. Paul's are the votive offerings and memorials; the chapel is still used as an accessible meeting place for rescue workers. Down the streets on either side of the chapel, one can see the blackened charred remnant of what was the World Trade Center. It reminded me, in microcosm, of the pictures we have seen in times past of bombed cities in Europe during World War II. I stood near a policeman who was talking with two visitors. While I didn't hear all the conversation, I could feel his emotion and suspected he was talking about a fallen colleague. He ended with the words, "It may not be the right way to say it, but, when your number is up, you gotta go." The visitors left and I approached him, and shaking his hand, told him I felt the emotion behind the words. Tears welled up in each of our eyes. I walked down Broadway, past the vendors selling model police cars, firetrucks and caps, crossed the street and caught the subway back uptown.
Robert Oeser
