A Quiet Street

In the midst of political and religious unrest, the heroes of 9/11 return to remember.

By Esmé Ellis

Long after the protesters around the Park51 “9/11 mosque” site had faced off and gone home, and after the tourists had come to examine the fabled site and taken their photos, the robust sound of bagpipes and applause echoed in the empty space of Ground Zero. A street parallel to the site glowed gold with candlelight, and the fenced-off area boasted a surging crowd, firetrucks with their lights, and music.

The Emerald Brigade, New York Fire Department’s own bagpipe association, gathered together as a group in the center of the crowd, performing songs of remembrance and commemoration, while firefighters from all around the Northeast and the continental United States congregated on the small side street parallel the site of Ground Zero. The uniforms in the crowd displayed the different insignias of brigades all around the country: Anaheim, Coral Springs, Pheonix, Margate Flounder, and even Australia were among those represented on Greenwich Street.

Open container laws were blatantly overlooked, as uniformed men went in and out of a local Irish pub, talking with colleagues and introducing their families around. The crowd surged in the fenced off area, army men mixing with police, and Marines lifting their glasses to passing firemen.

Deputy Fire-chief Mooney stood alongside the 50 ft bronze memorial running along the west wall commemorating the firemen who sacrificed their lives in the blazes of 9/11, greeting fellow firemen and explaining the purpose evening to the curious passersby. He declined to be quoted for Bard Politik Daily, but expressed his appreciation for the sentiment on display around him that evening.

Behind the deputy fire chief, candles illuminated the copper color of the memorial, which depicts firefighters braving flames and names of the fallen. Men in uniform stepped forward to lay a hand on the wall, often pausing by a particular name, and kneeling. The night progressed, and flowers piled high in front of the bronze relief.

A Brooklyn firefighter, who did not wish to be named, explained the origins of the events of the day. “ It started a couple of years ago as an impromptu moment, with only a few people, but as you can see, those people kept coming back every year, and it got big.“ He gestured out at the crowd of fire fighters and their families, milling around the block. “-And now, well, I guess it is a sort of unspoken tradition. We all come back here every year to see each other."

In the recent weeks, a debate has raged around the construction of an Islamic community center, dubbed the "9/11 mosque". Defended by notables such as Mayor Bloomberg and President Obama , the mosque has inflamed New York and indeed, the entire country, over the question of constitutional right versus moral code. Religion and diversity have been at the heart of the debate, as Americans have considered the validity of Park51's right to exist in Lower Manhattan. Most recently in the debate, Florida Pastor Terry Jones called off his congregation's protest Koran burning, calling the entire ordeal an attempt to "expose that there is an element of Islam that is very radical and dangerous". The topic of religion at Ground Zero seemed almost taboo- or at the very least relegated toa different night. There were no protesters on Greenwich Street, no signs declaring right and wrong. There was no mention of the fierce protest which had taken place earlier that day near the intended site of " Park51". Only a sentiment of community prevailed among the men as they laughed together, shaking hands and taking photos together. This night was reserved almost exclusively for celebrating and praising the memory of the fallen.

As it grew dark, two beams of light shot into the sky, tall over the heads of the gathering. They reached high into the sky, two phantom towers designed to replace the ones that fell. The “Tribute in Light”, as the installation is called, is the brainchild of artists Julian Laverdiere and Paul Myoda. Each anniversary, 88 searchlights are placed in a square formation near Ground Zero and the light rises up to cloud level, seen as far away as New Jersey on clear nights. The show is projected to occur until the 10th anniversary of the attacks.

A senior firefighter looked up at the pale cylindrical lights in the sky, before turning back to face the party.“Our memory goes on,” he recited carefully. “ This day will always be a sad reminder of the events nine years ago.” Around him, fellow firefighters nodded, and then they slowly dispersed, to go talk, smoke, or drink, free to wander down the middle of the closed off street on a warm September evening.