Around the Block from Ground Zero

The Newseum reopened last year in Washington, DC (it had previously been located in Rosslyn, across the river) in a beautiful building not far from the Capitol on Pennsylvania Avenue. I was in the museum last week for a short visit on a frigid but sunny January day (that's all we've had in January 2010 so far it seems to me). We didn't have alot of time to spend in the museum (you definitely can spend hours there; the tickets are good for two days, apparently acknowledging this fact), so my friend guided me upstairs to a few exhibits, including the film clips of Woodstock (very cool), copies of the first printed books, and the 9/11 exhibit.

The 9/11 exhibit is an area with a piece of the World Trade Center, and a two story wall showing front pages of newspapers from around the world, mostly from September 12th, 2001. There's an exhibit describing the life and last moments of the only reporter (a photographer) killed on 9/11 in the course of his work. And in a small theater behind the huge wall of newspapers, there's a 10 minute film running. The film recounts the morning of 9/11, and the memories (and actual footage) of reporters who were working that day in NYC, covering the story as the second plane flew into the second tower, and as the towers cratered one by one that morning. It was extraordinarily moving. Actually, it made me sick.

The film and the exhibit can't help but prompt those watching share the story of where they were that day. My friend and I shared our stories of that day while we stood in front of the piece of the WTC there in the museum. As I shared my story of being in NYC that day, I was reminded of the email I sent to family and friends on September 12th; the subject header was "The Day After."

* * *

I'm at work this morning, after spending the night with Clara and Bevis at their home on Central Park West. I went for a run last night in Central Park around 5:30 p.m. -- the park was car-free, but busy with bikers and runners and families pushing strollers, husbands still in jacket and tie and wives listening as tales of the morning were recounted . . . the surrealness of the morning was reinforced by the sight of people doing normal things on a very un-normal day. At the end of my run I walked up to the Reservoir to take another look at the skyline to the south and could still see the smoke rising in the tower-less horizon.

I took the bus to mid-town this morning. The streets seemed quiet, but it wasn't until I got off in Times Square and stood there for a moment, looking at the huge screen broadcasting the Today Show, that I realized how quiet the square was. I usually stay at the Marriott right there in Times Square (last night I thought it would feel better to stay with friends -- it did) and walk through Times Square to work. At 8 a.m it was eerily quiet -- and again, as I looked south, the towers were still not there. Very few people on the streets; no New York Times or Wall Street Journal to be found at the newstands, which were open. All the Starbucks were closed
too -- out of deference to the tragedy, I'm guessing.

Here at JPMorgan, there is a skeletal staff today. I'm helping out manning the phones of the head of the investment management business, as his secretary is out today. I sat in on his management team meeting and learned that the business is doing OK -- mostly managing clients and their questions at this point -- but that the human toll, in terms of people losing friends and relatives, was just beginning to be felt.

I learned via email that five PwC employees lost their lives in airplanes, apparently, yesterday. One partner was on one of the planes that went into the WTC. I also learned that a former colleague, Chris Morrison, was at a breakfast conference at Windows on the World (at the top of the WTC)yesterday. He was a member of my group and had left us in January to join his client. He was a very good friend and former protege of my partner, so this is a particularly close loss. It is unbelievably sad.

Yesterday we all heard survivor stories. Today we are hearing the stories of death. It is a very sad day.

My lasting memories of yesterday: A beautiful sunrise over the lower tip of Manhattan as I flew in at 7 a.m. to LaGuardia; the horrible sight of the twin towers billowing smoke at 9:15 a.m. as I stood on the 41st floor at 47th and Sixth Avenue; the shock in everyone's eyes on the trading floor as we watched on TV first one, then the second tower disappear in a cloud of smoke and debris.

I'm headed back to Washington this afternoon on Amtrak -- home to another wounded city.

* * *

Today I live around the corner from Ground Zero. When I take the E train sometimes to the last stop, World Trade Center, I leave the train and walk upstairs into the crowds of tourists that are almost constantly in the area - taking pictures of the cranes and the worksite that is currently building the Memorial on the WTC footprint. I walked into the Preview Center for the site on Vesey Street, behind my building, one Sunday afternoon. The Center has exhibits of what happened that day, and a diorama of the planned memorial. Living around the block from the site, I felt like I should know what was going on there.

9/11 seems long ago in some ways, but in other ways it is very close - for many New Yorkers, it is seared into memories - and I find people are always willing to talk about it. Since I have been back in NYC, I have had the "what happened to me that day" discussion with many people. Even last night, my friends, who had just been to see the Newseum in Washington too, recounted their experience that day. I hadn't know their story. Sometimes it's too difficult to listen to more than one story; I didn't tell them about my day that day; it was enough to hear what was their collective story.

The Christmas Bomber has brought back discussions of 9/11, and our country's ability to keep another 9/11 from happening. It seems pretty clear we're not there yet, but we're working on it. One of the reasons I like Obama is that I think he's going to what I think is right. And his reaction to the 12/25 incident reinforces that feeling - he came out and said that we weren't doing enough to catch terrorists and that we had to make some changes to get our intelligence community working together better (to say nothing of getting systems in place so that we can do that). And what pleased me about his reaction was the fact in so saying, it was clear that he had let go completely of that hubris that I think went a long way to making the events of 9/11 a reality - the hubris that allowed Americans to think that no one would ever attack us on our soil. We don't believe that anymore, and our President is telling the American people that he is committed to fighting terrorism (and also said so eloquently in his Nobel Prize acceptance speech).

Every day I walk in sight of the place where our country experienced its worst day of violence. It makes me feel better to know that, despite Dick Cheney's cynicism, there are people in my government committed to making sure it never happens again.