by Teresa Ringholz

Created on: September 13, 2009

The cusp of a New Year found me in New York City that cold December day in 2005 to celebrate my birthday with my fiance and friends. I also wanted to go to the Municipal Archives on Chambers Street in Lower Manhattan for some genealogical research. It wasn't my intention to visit Ground Zero but doing so yielded one of the most memorable experiences of my life.

I had other memories of visiting this spot from days gone by. One summer afternoon in 1999 was particularly special when I had lunch in the glass atrium of the Winter Garden Cafe at the World Trade Center with American and German friends. We sat for hours under the giant palm trees with the bright sun reflecting off the water, filling the open space with light. Following lunch we took a stroll along the harbor and visited the newly landscaped park nearby.

Now the cold, damp air hung low with the winter mist in the sky. As my fiance and I made our way to the archives, the silent realization that we were only blocks away from Ground Zero suddenly clouded my mind. Could I bring myself to face the reality of that tragic day in 2001 that changed the world? I had seen the events unfold from my apartment in Germany, riveted to the television and holding my breath at every tragic turn.

My findings at the archive revealed information about a long lost aunt who had sadly died very young. My heart was filled with deep emotion as I left the archive with the news. "Where are we going now?" my fiance asked. "We have to do something," I said as we braved the cold air. I felt a sudden urge of obligation, a sense of duty not only to remember a relative I had never known, but to the thousands who had also met a tragic ending much too soon.

As we neared the site of the Twin Towers, my first impression was the rancid smell which hung in the air like a death cloud: the smell of seared metal combined with noxious chemicals. My stomach turned with the impending sight around the next corner. And there it was: a gaping hole. What once stood there like two giants reaching to the sky was now an eerie landscape. For a moment my mind's eye conjured up the mirage of what once one stood there and then in a hopeless heartbeat it was gone. No monument in the world could be a better testament to the tragedy than this open space; these few city blocks of nothingness spoke reams of the disaster

Silently, crowds of people stood behind the chain link barrier to the sight. Some took pictures, some just looked and stared. I took my fiance's hand. In the distance I saw the skeletal remains of the atrium which had been the source of a wonderful summer afternoon. At that moment, I couldn't choke back the tears any longer and wept with the heaviest of heart.

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