Last fall there was an exhibit in New York's Grand Central Station of bigger-than-life photo-portraits of many who immediately answered the call to the scene at the World Trade Center. In the stories that accompanied the pictures of each individual, a common theme emerged. Each had acted on an immediate and basic instinct—to drop selfish considerations and help others.
Another photo taken on September 11, though not part of the Grand Central exhibit, also depicts this undaunted strength and courage. It is of an outdated fire engine crossing the Brooklyn Bridge and going right into the thick of chaos and destruction. The shot was taken from a high tower on the Brooklyn side of the river, so the fire engine looked toy-like, yet so determined to help.
To rescue. To save. Now that the debris from the site has been cleared, there remains a lingering need to save. Not from smoke and falling buildings, but from continuing uncertainty and fear. There is no doubt that the events of that day altered not only the physical landscape, but the mental landscape as well. The effort to rebuild the area with improvements is underway. Questions as to how it should be rebuilt—how much of the space should be dedicated to a memorial, to office space, to recreation and park areas, and to the transit system—are being carefully considered. Although these are not easy decisions, there is great mental resolve to go forward, with strength. But can we be free from the mark of darkness or the eerie imprint of threat that these sorts of events leave on us?
