Two weeks ago, I had the sad, yet almost indispensable occasion of visiting the National September 11 Memorial and Museum in New York City for the first time.
Sufficient to say that the sight of the 2,977 inscribed names of the victims of the unspeakable terrorist attacks brought tears to my eyes. The beautiful white roses placed inside the lettering of the names of a child, woman or man who would be celebrating a birthday on that day two weeks ago made the sadness even more poignant, almost unbearable.
While the reflecting pools and their symbology evoke deep grief and compassion, the sight of so many raw, physical exhibits at the Museum — the gigantic, mangled steel beams; the crushed fire truck (below); destroyed emergency vehicles; concrete remnants of the proud Towers — and the indelible images of the day we will never forget evoked horror, anger and an overwhelming sadness.
However, the sight of the awesome, colossal portion of the original slurry wall (below) preserved at the Museum evoked different feelings. Built during the construction of the Twin Towers to hold back the soft soil along the Hudson River and its water during construction, the slurry wall held and prevented an even greater disaster on that fateful day.
Seeing the indestructible slurry wall – nicknamed “the bathtub” – intact made me proud of American ingenuity and resilience.
The sights at the Museum also reminded me of the heroism and unselfishness displayed by so many – first responders, military, ordinary citizens — who answered the call without hesitation, many making the ultimate sacrifice.
I know that immense gratitude has been rightly expressed to these heroes and more is being bestowed upon them on this 25th anniversary of the tragedy. I join the nation and express my personal thanks, admiration and tribute.
I also want to recognize and thank a town, a nation, a people who instinctively stood with us, supported us, sacrificed for us on that disastrous day and for many years thereafter.
First, Gander, Newfoundland, the small town in Canada that welcomed 38 jumbo jets carrying nearly 7,000 passengers; whose citizens opened their homes, schools, churches, and community halls to house, feed, and comfort total strangers in an incredible act of compassion and neighborly hospitality.
Second, the country of Canada that, under operation Yellow Ribbon, worked with the FAA to shut down North American airspace and divert 224 U.S.-bound international flights safely to Canadian airports and accommodated nearly 33,000 stranded passengers and crew members from around the world.
The nation whose communities across the country, from Nova Scotia to British Columbia, provided medical care, phone banks to contact loved ones, and supplies without asking for anything in return.
The country that in the aftermath of 9/11 joined the U.S.-led coalition in the fight against terrorism and became one of our staunchest allies and supporters during the 12-year war in Afghanistan — a war that became Canada’s longest war and where more than 40,000 Canadian Armed Forces members served, 158 of them never to return home.
A country with which we have been close friends and good neighbors for more than 150 years and that shares with us the longest international land border in the world.
Hopefully, the U.S. Administration will, at least for one day, set aside its pettiness and animosity towards a good neighbor and thank Canada for its unwavering support when our nation was attacked.
In a 9/11 look back in Axios, Atlantic Council fellow and veteran diplomat Daniel Fried is quoted as posing the question, “If the United States were hit again, would Canada come to our aid with troops now? Would Denmark?”
I have absolutely no doubt they would.
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Photos by author
