New York Prepares for Memories, Sorrow

One year after the terrorist attacks, it's the memories that cause her pain.

Hauser, a Manhattan resident, was in the subway beneath the World Trade Center towers when they collapsed Sept. 11, 2001. Eventually she emerged from the rubble, covered in dust, to find the building destroyed and her apartment uninhabitable.

She stayed in a New York hotel that night. Then, still covered in ashes, she drove 17 hours to family in Fort Lauderdale, Fla., the next day.

All of those thoughts came back Tuesday.

"When I came out (to the site today), it was kind of a frenzy," Hauser said. "It's very anxiety-provoking. I see it, and I can't breathe."

Battery Park City was made from the dirt displaced when construction of the World Trade Center began in the late 1960s. Before Sept. 11, people came to the park to walk dogs, jog, bike and catch a glimpse of the sun setting behind the Statue of Liberty.

The dogs and joggers remain, but now many of the park's visitors flooding the area focus on a memorial, which contains objects from visitors and family members of people who died in the attacks.

Decorating the site are hundreds of patches donated by police officers, firefighters and service personnel from San Francisco to Winston-Salem that form a banner across the memorial's top. Other gifts include a singed firefighter's jacket with the words "best friend" and a stuffed Smokey the Bear holding a U.S. flag.

Eleanor Lang, a Manhattan resident who visited the memorial Tuesday, said everyone -- even her dog -- has been acting strange in the past week.

"There's that tense feeling," she said. "You can pick up on it. People are sad, tense, depressed."

Lang, who is Jewish by heritage, said it's a Jewish tradition to light a candle and say a prayer over the dead. And that's what she did at the makeshift memorial in Battery Park City.

"Then you have a moral obligation at that point to resume your place in the community," Lang said.

She hopes that the anniversary ceremony can supply that kind of closure to the people of New York.

Richard Oliver, a musician from Jersey City, N.J., said he and others tried to express and share their grief with others musically.

Oliver, whose stage name is Second in Command, composed a song called "This Just Can't Be" in memory of Sept. 11 and sang it at the site Tuesday.

"It's a song that I want them to hear every year," he said.

Oliver said his sister was on a subway headed to work in the city when the planes hit the towers. She told Oliver that she was trapped in the dark until, groping and stepping over people, she found escape.

"Me and her -- we never got along," Oliver said. "We hated each other. Now it's like 'love ya' every time we see each other."

Today thousands of Americans will converge on the site of the Sept. 11 attacks. Some New Yorkers and visitors said they are undeterred by warnings from the State Department of potential terrorist attacks. Many said remembering is more important.

"You have to be cautious, and you have to know what's going on, but you can't let that stop you," said Jef Hernandez, whose uncle died in the attacks.

Oliver said his faith sustains him and eases any fears he might have.

"I believe in God," he said. "Clearly I believe I'm going out just like I came into this world. It's just nothing to be afraid of. Whatever's my time is my time."

Hauser said the city has dealt with the worst. "In New York, you kind of live like that," she said. "You're kind of hyper-vigilant in this city."

Hauser might not be afraid of dangers associated with the post-Sept. 11 world, but she fears the memories. She said she doesn't know if today she can bear to be in the city -- or to remember.

"The first time I came down here, it was like Mars," Hauser said. "It was like the moon. There was no color. You live that everyday."

The State & National Editor can be reached at stntdesk@unc.edu.