Anyone who knows me is aware I prefer to keep things light and entertaining. You’ll realize that the minute you read a post about our girls’ trip to New York and the whirlwind of Christmas-themed fun we had. However, on our third and final day visiting the city, we spent several hours in a much different fashion. We went to the 9/11 Memorial and Museum. To describe the experience as meaningful, somber, and heartrending is an understatement.

At the museum, we walked across a paved area to observe twin pools, each one nearly an acre in size. Located in the footprints of where the North and South towers once stood, victim names are engraved on a bronze parapet that lines the perimeter of the pools. Names are arranged by the location and circumstance of each person at the time of the attack. Waterfalls at the pools add a soothing rush of sound before entering the museum.

We walked through a metal detector and our belongings were searched in a manner similar to what happens at the airport. Then we were allowed to either join a guided tour, or wander through the museum on their own. We chose the self-guided tour.

The first thing I noticed was silence. Although a lot of people were present, very little discussion took place. In contrast, other areas were filled with the sights and sounds of breaking news broadcasts from September 11, interspersed with eyewitness accounts. It brought shivers down my spine and I have to admit my stomach lurched. Is there anyone who lived through this experience who doesn’t remember exactly where he or she was when it happened? A flashback: I felt like I was at my office – a court day for us – when the unfathomable news broke.

As the girls and I stepped from place to place, we viewed reminders of the day’s horrors. We saw blips disappear from a radar screen as airplanes were grounded. Observed massive pieces of twisted metal and scraps of tattered clothing. Poignant photographs. A woman’s shoe. A firetruck, burned and partially crushed. Frantic notes left by people searching for loved ones. A room where walls are lined with photographs of people who died. Impromptu memorials.

Tears streamed down my face. Most people around me had a similar reaction. Out of respect for the victims and their families, some parts of the museum do not allow photography, but I think the shots I took speak for themselves.

If you haven’t yet visited the museum, I encourage you to do so. Like seeing the Pearl Harbor site, this is an intense experience, but a valuable one. And it is a part of our country’s history we must never forget. To find out more or plan a visit, check out the 9/11 Memorial and Museum website.

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Pat Wahler is a Missouri native and avid reader. She is author of Western Fictioneers’ Best First Novel of 2018 and Walter Williams Award winner, I am Mrs. Jesse James, along with a Five-Star Readers’ Favorite contemporary romance series, the Becker Family Novels; and a Five-Star Readers’ Favorite Christmas collection. 

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