Twelve years ago today, Abigail was in her second week of kindergarten. I can’t speak for the rest of the country but I firmly believe that this year’s class of High School seniors in New York City were deeply affected in ways that will play out throughout their lives, both in a lack of trust of the stability of anything and their belief in the innate ability of neighbors and communities to rise to occasions. In other words deeply conflicted.
As has become a personal tradition, I went to the ceremony held at the Firemen’s Memorial on 100th Street and Riverside Drive overlooking Riverside Park and The Hudson River. Every year they read out the names of the 343 members of the department who lost their lives that day. This year they also spoke of the 76 who have since died of what seem to be WTC site specific illnesses. Of course, thoughts and memories of all the other dead, both those attacked and the other first responders come into the ceremony.
Here are a few views.