Remembering What We Have Lost

Every day on my way to work I pass through a mass graveyard. 

Most mornings I simply try not to think about it. But today, of course, was different. 

I'd already stiffened a bit and taken some deep, reflective breaths when the train conductor announced, "World Trade Center, next stop." Next to me was a Port Authority cop, in full dress uniform, preparing to join his fellow public servants and the families of those who lost their lives here seven years ago in the ceremony marking the seventh anniversary of the 9/11 attack. 

The train slowed as we approached the station and I saw the police and firefighters lining up in the pit, its giant ramp festooned with the flags of other nations supporting our memorial. The escalator spat me out onto the street and there was a middle-aged couple, stepping deliberately, hand-in-hand, toward the site — a poster-size photograph of their 20-something son, lost on this day seven years ago, grievously hanging from each neck.

I've worked in New York for many years, but until I switched jobs recently it was always further uptown. Walking the streets near Ground Zero this morning I couldn't help but wonder: Why isn't September 11 a national holiday? 

There are good arguments against making it one, of course. The most convincing of these holds that we must go on with life, commerce and governing, because suspending these activities would provide comfort to those who attacked us. Nevertheless, as I navigated the maze of grieving loved ones, security personnel and press on the way to my office this morning, I wished there was some way to shut down lower Manhattan on September 11 every year, simply to provide a more peaceful, intimate environment for the thousands whose deep, unquenchable grief moves them to this place on this date and likely will for many years to come. It is, of course, practically impossible to shut down a slice of New York that is home to so much that is so vital to local and national institutions without also shutting down the rest of the country. Given that similar, if smaller, remembrances occur annually in Washington and Shanksville, Pennsylvania, making 9/11 a holiday deserves consideration.

In a minute or two I will finish this post and proceed with my day. But seeing what I saw this morning reminded me of the New York — indeed, of the America — that existed for a fleeting moment seven years ago. Chaotic, frightened, wounded and angry, yes. But also humane, philanthropic, pure of spirit and united. On that day we were all Americans, and the world joined us in kinship. In citizenship. Much has been lost since then, but today I am reminded that it is not too late to get it back.