On a recent trip to New York City I hopped on to the number five subway towards Battery Park so I could make a trip out to the Statue of Liberty. The lines for the tour were outrageous, so I turned my attention to what was once the core of the “Big Apple.”

During the four block walk from Battery Park to Ground Zero ,my mind began to wander back to the morning of Sept. 11, 2001. Being awakened by my crying mother on the phone is something I will not soon forget. I became overwhelmed with apprehension and wondered what kind of emotions I would feel when confronted with the empty space that once represented our nation and its great achievements.

The weather was somewhat clear with steady wind gusts. I made my way past solicitors that wished to benefit from the tragedy by selling “9/11” hats and DVDs of the planes hitting the buildings. I recovered from my disbelief at these individuals and their lack of compassion only to be presented with the massive open space of land that is Ground Zero.

The area was filled with rubble; ladders and buckets made it resemble a construction site. I slowly walked up to the fencing that barricades the area and stopped. My theories about the U.S. having it coming and my refusal to rally around the flag for President Bush became so lodged in the back of my mind it was startling. My heart pounded and I became short of breath.

Tourists and citizens all gathered around and were silent while remembering when time stopped and nothing happened in a New York minute nearly four years ago.

A young boy, who could have only been eight years old, asked his mother what year this had happened, and after she replied, he seemed distraught and outraged.

“Those poor people,” he said.

Behind me was an older man in faded clothing who played “America the Beautiful” on his violin.

Businessmen in suits and ties strolled past the site, which they must pass nearly every day, who still could not resist turning and remembering for a moment. I noticed that nearly all of the buildings on the surrounding blocks were still being repaired. A large black sheet hung in a sorrowful manner from a building to the left. The list of lives that were lost stretched four blocks and could not have been in a font larger than 26 points.

Above the debris stood a cross built from pieces of the towers, the rust not diminishing its purpose. As I tried to focus my disposable tourist camera between links in the fence, I felt something softly brush my forehead. I glanced up and noticed it was a small American flag someone had placed there in condolence. In no way do I consider myself to be superstitious or completely patriotic, but at that moment I was engulfed in sorrow.

Groups of people came and went, and eventually the group I remembered with wished to leave. As I walked away, I couldn’t keep from looking back at the site where possibly the most tragic event occurred in our nation’s history.

The pictures I took will not be needed to paint the image of Ground Zero in my head, for it has still not left me today. It is something every American should see and respect.

The fact that President Bush did not leave that classroom immediately on the morning of Sept. 11 or that he had intelligence informing him beforehand that the attacks could happen doesn’t matter now because the politics of it are behind me. Seeing the impact site and knowing that there will be a 2,000 foot. Freedom Tower built there by 2008 assures me that America still shines. ——————————————————————————Blake Ellington can be reached at [email protected]