I recently visited New York. It was important to me that I return to the site of the Twin Towers tragedy. My colleague Marlene Lund got us the passes. We went though the long and very thorough inspections of multiple security checks. Then I entered the site looking directly at the two Reflecting Memorial Pools which are exactly in the same footprints of the original two towers.
In
that solemn moment I first allowed myself to recall pleasant memories of the
scene. I used to love to go to the top floor and dine at the Windows of the
World Restaurant, or sip a glass of red wine in the lounge, preferably
with family members from Texas on their first trip to the Big Apple. I
recalled a very special luncheon arranged for New York principals of Lutheran
schools, many of whom had never been able to afford a formal luncheon at the
exclusive club on the 102 floor. I
loved going to the Twin Towers.
Things
got more solemn for I also remembered that I had conducted a workshop for a
famous bank on one of the top floors. I recalled my great fear that many who
had taken my workshop would undoubtedly have perished on that fateful- day. I
learned later that they a had all survived.
I
became increasingly meditative and reflective as I looked at the names: nearly
3000 of them, all killed on that dark day. One of the first names to recall was
that of Chaplain Mychal F. Judge, the fire chaplain killed by fallen debris
even as he was ministering to the wounded. (The firefighters who carried his
corpse to St. Paul’s Church that day were doing that when the tower collapsed
and their lives were spared.
It
got more personal. I had served as the Executive Director of The Lutheran
Schools Association of New York and had been succeeded by Marlene Lund. Now she
was finding the names of very specific persons. She told me the stories that
flowed, together with her tears, as she recalled. We were identifying the names
of some 60 victims who were either the parents or grandparents of children
enrolled in Lutheran schools at the time of their untimely deaths. Marlene
could recall the children and their parents, like the mother who was just back
to work for less than a week before the tragedy, feeling she could go back to
work knowing her child was safe ion the Lutheran preschool. There was another:
he had graduated from the eighth grade of one of our schools. The names and the
list went on and on. We walked in silence. We were left alone in our memories,
our grief, our anger.
After
marveling at the beautiful new structures now rising, feeling the energy as I
looked at The Survivor Tree (a small tree that is surviving it all) I continued
my walk among the names of people of every ethnicity, economic level and
faith of the world. I confronted my sadness, my anger and my resolve that I
would do all I possibly could so that never again would such a
horrible tragedy and damnably evil act committed in the name of God be
repeated.
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