The design honors and celebrates the lives of those killed in the September 11, 2001 attacks.
The figurative road to healing begins with a literal journey, with the soaring zenith of the Memorial Spire catching the eye of newly arriving visitors, even from across the Hudson River. Framed by the palisade of Lower Manhattan’s buildings, it shimmers like a fresh-cut diamond to the beholder catching sight of it from West Broadway. As distances close, it reveals more of itself – a pinnacle of scintillating brilliance cut against the cityscape. From immediately outside the Memorial Park – seen from street level- the crystalline dome is now apparent to new arrivals. Its message is not one of daunting somberness, but of the closing of a circle. The former majesty of the Twin Towers has been resurrected in symbolic acknowledgement of the triumphant resilience of the human spirit. The vista from the lip of the slurry wall affirms that one has arrived, not at the site of the unredeemed tragedy but, at humankind’s proof of hope indomitable. If we believe that the spark of the eternal resides within each of us, here is incontrovertible evidence that all of those sparks we once thought vanished in the dust and ruin of terrorism are gathered anew to reveal their collective majesty in a spire.
The empty cup of emotional expectation that each visitor carries to the Memorial Park has begun to be filled. The visceral sensation of becoming one with the Memorial gathers a palpable intensity descending down through its entrance – behind the water wall – then up onto the footprint of the South Tower with its bosque of trees. The sheltering canopy of trees form a natural umbrella over seating below the boughs where visitors may sit in contemplative reflection before the water wall.
To the extent that the Memorial components are a physician’s bag of instruments for ministering to the heart’s greatest needs, the bosque of trees offers a sanctuary for introspection. In their midst, a rising column – one of the surviving artifacts of the Trade Center – affords a touchable remnant of what once towered over the site.
At the base of the water wall, the Walk of Light begins. We move with this transparent band of light in which all the names of those lost appear to float, suspended in air.
A to Z and Z to A, the names are oriented so the viewer reads them in alphabetical order from either direction. Though essentially a necrology, the presentation of each name invites homage and hope. In this same space, adjacent to their names, we now also glimpse the badge emblems and shields of the firefighters, police and EMS workers who gave their lives to spare others.
We see them arrayed as one might the ribbons of valor on the breast of a military dress uniform.
At this juncture the Wall of Names has achieved a height of 7 feet. From here at the water wall it gently declines in height as it traverses the park, dropping to grade at 30 foot intervals where there are no names allow to passage, descends between twin reflecting pools and completes the journey at the Memory Scroll atop the North Tower’s footprint.
The heart of the tribute – the Memorial Dome and Spire – is now before us. Together they engender reverential circumspection as well as peace, for they recognize that each visitor is at a different milepost on the road to spiritual reconciliation with the events of September 11 and February 26.
To accommodate individual emotional need, the interior space of the Memorial Dome is divided into both large and small gathering areas. A room for reflection is formed by the convergence of the interior walls of the Memorial Spire’s four polished granite towers. Through this room passes the Walk of Light. Standing at the Dome’s center we behold overhead the Memorial’s Vault holding the unidentified remains of those lost in the tragedy. It is held aloft as an affirmation of humanity’s need for spiritual veneration of sacrifice.
The Spire, rising Phoenix-like through the apex of the Dome reveals itself here through the oculus in the Vault’s open core. This is the point from which hope takes wing, soaring upward into the sky above Lower Manhattan.
This moving experience excites the need to record one’s reaction. To that end electronic Memory Pads are placed conveniently around the Memorial Park to assure each visitor the opportunity to chronicle the moment. An electronic venue that makes the entirety of the Memorial Park participatory as well as experiential, it is designed to register human emotion – through words, drawings, captured thoughts – and immediately transmit them to the Memory Scroll. The Scroll is posterity’s ledger, for the unfinished business of any memorial ought to be the ongoing addition of each visitor’s reaction to it. The words and images that gave voice to those reactions become homage, a gift to those lost.
To this end, in support of future participation, Liberty Wall remains a blank canvas, available on a juried basis for temporary installations.
Reflecting pools echo the North Tower’s foot print. Water flows in a thin sheet across their black granite surfaces, spills over the edges and disappears. Within the shelter of the overarching Cultural Building are spaces for public and small group gatherings. It is the beginning and the end of the Walk of Light and site of the electronic Memory Scroll.
Once those words are recorded, the visitor pauses to take the measure of the magnitude of it all, moved by the breadth of the sweep of tragedy’s scythe but also buoyed by the spark of hope kept alive for those who will never live to comb gray hair. Only part of them is lost. Their spirit resides in the brilliance of the Spire. It is captured not in the posture of falling, as the towers did, but rising from their foundation as though to say, “Shed your tears if you must upon this altar, but look upon the Spire’s light and know that there is something about us that neither terrorism nor the passage of time out of mind can vanquish. Behold it and be at peace with us and yourself.”
What happened on 9/11 and 2/26 will ever hang over our hearts like a star - a star that invites us to mourn, as it encourages us to celebrate the victory of the human heart.
The design honors and celebrates the lives of those killed in the September 11, 2001 attacks.
The figurative road to healing begins with a literal journey, with the soaring zenith of the Memorial Spire catching the eye of newly arriving visitors, even from across the Hudson River. Framed by the palisade of Lower Manhattan’s buildings, it shimmers like a fresh-cut diamond to the beholder catching sight of it from West Broadway. As distances close, it reveals more of itself – a pinnacle of scintillating brilliance cut against the cityscape. From immediately outside the Memorial Park – seen from street level- the crystalline dome is now apparent to new arrivals. Its message is not one of daunting somberness, but of the closing of a circle. The former majesty of the Twin Towers has been resurrected in symbolic acknowledgement of the triumphant resilience of the human spirit. The vista from the lip of the slurry wall affirms that one has arrived, not at the site of the unredeemed tragedy but, at humankind’s proof of hope indomitable. If we believe that the spark of the eternal resides within each of us, here is incontrovertible evidence that all of those sparks we once thought vanished in the dust and ruin of terrorism are gathered anew to reveal their collective majesty in a spire.
The empty cup of emotional expectation that each visitor carries to the Memorial Park has begun to be filled. The visceral sensation of becoming one with the Memorial gathers a palpable intensity descending down through its entrance – behind the water wall – then up onto the footprint of the South Tower with its bosque of trees. The sheltering canopy of trees form a natural umbrella over seating below the boughs where visitors may sit in contemplative reflection before the water wall.
To the extent that the Memorial components are a physician’s bag of instruments for ministering to the heart’s greatest needs, the bosque of trees offers a sanctuary for introspection. In their midst, a rising column – one of the surviving artifacts of the Trade Center – affords a touchable remnant of what once towered over the site.
At the base of the water wall, the Walk of Light begins. We move with this transparent band of light in which all the names of those lost appear to float, suspended in air.
A to Z and Z to A, the names are oriented so the viewer reads them in alphabetical order from either direction. Though essentially a necrology, the presentation of each name invites homage and hope. In this same space, adjacent to their names, we now also glimpse the badge emblems and shields of the firefighters, police and EMS workers who gave their lives to spare others.
We see them arrayed as one might the ribbons of valor on the breast of a military dress uniform.
At this juncture the Wall of Names has achieved a height of 7 feet. From here at the water wall it gently declines in height as it traverses the park, dropping to grade at 30 foot intervals where there are no names allow to passage, descends between twin reflecting pools and completes the journey at the Memory Scroll atop the North Tower’s footprint.
The heart of the tribute – the Memorial Dome and Spire – is now before us. Together they engender reverential circumspection as well as peace, for they recognize that each visitor is at a different milepost on the road to spiritual reconciliation with the events of September 11 and February 26.
To accommodate individual emotional need, the interior space of the Memorial Dome is divided into both large and small gathering areas. A room for reflection is formed by the convergence of the interior walls of the Memorial Spire’s four polished granite towers. Through this room passes the Walk of Light. Standing at the Dome’s center we behold overhead the Memorial’s Vault holding the unidentified remains of those lost in the tragedy. It is held aloft as an affirmation of humanity’s need for spiritual veneration of sacrifice.
The Spire, rising Phoenix-like through the apex of the Dome reveals itself here through the oculus in the Vault’s open core. This is the point from which hope takes wing, soaring upward into the sky above Lower Manhattan.
This moving experience excites the need to record one’s reaction. To that end electronic Memory Pads are placed conveniently around the Memorial Park to assure each visitor the opportunity to chronicle the moment. An electronic venue that makes the entirety of the Memorial Park participatory as well as experiential, it is designed to register human emotion – through words, drawings, captured thoughts – and immediately transmit them to the Memory Scroll. The Scroll is posterity’s ledger, for the unfinished business of any memorial ought to be the ongoing addition of each visitor’s reaction to it. The words and images that gave voice to those reactions become homage, a gift to those lost.
To this end, in support of future participation, Liberty Wall remains a blank canvas, available on a juried basis for temporary installations.
Reflecting pools echo the North Tower’s foot print. Water flows in a thin sheet across their black granite surfaces, spills over the edges and disappears. Within the shelter of the overarching Cultural Building are spaces for public and small group gatherings. It is the beginning and the end of the Walk of Light and site of the electronic Memory Scroll.
Once those words are recorded, the visitor pauses to take the measure of the magnitude of it all, moved by the breadth of the sweep of tragedy’s scythe but also buoyed by the spark of hope kept alive for those who will never live to comb gray hair. Only part of them is lost. Their spirit resides in the brilliance of the Spire. It is captured not in the posture of falling, as the towers did, but rising from their foundation as though to say, “Shed your tears if you must upon this altar, but look upon the Spire’s light and know that there is something about us that neither terrorism nor the passage of time out of mind can vanquish. Behold it and be at peace with us and yourself.”
What happened on 9/11 and 2/26 will ever hang over our hearts like a star - a star that invites us to mourn, as it encourages us to celebrate the victory of the human heart.