point of view

Way back in 2001, I tucked away various magazine photos of September 11th and the aftermath. They were hard to look at, but I knew that there would be times when I would turn to them again. I began that day in Boston, and clearly remember the fear of it and the bizzare stillness of the interstate as I returned to my parents’ house in Connecticut.

But today, quite unexpectedly, I’ve seen the most disturbing photograph of the day that I have seen yet– totally unexpected and out of context.

You can find it here.

I almost want to dig out the old Time magazine to face the disturbance of this newest image.

4 thoughts on “point of view

  1. It is certainly disturbing. It reminds me (though the circumstances are different) of how at least one of the IRA atrocities in Ireland was commemorated in a jaunty pub ballad, which was then played on national radio.

  2. There is something in that photo that just turns my stomach, before any reflection has even happened.

    I remember your sitting with us as we waited to find out if we had just lost the entire Haitian house, as all the sisters had been on an early morning AA flight out of (Boston) Logan to head home. And then there were the sisters who worked right there in the shadow of the towers, and another one in the air arriving into Logan right about then… I don’t think I could have eaten, much less picnicked in full view of it. Beats me how someone could be right there and so breezy (-seeming) in mood. I hope they aren’t as casual as they look.

    Ugh.

  3. I thought a lot about our conversation on the roof as I looked at the photo, Sarah. Thinking: ‘while we were trying to stay sane, as we tried to talk about normal things, might we have ever looked as they did?’

    But my memory is of the strain of our conversation — wanting to be together before I went back to Scotland, but unable to really focus. My memory is of the tension held in voice and body. A very different picture.

  4. I heard about the first “accident” on the phone (from the Guardian newsroom!) and was still on the phone call when the second plane crashed into the second tower. My newly-arrived class gradually grew silent as they looked at my face. I told them what I’d heard and we headed to the resource centre to try to find out what was going on, but news sites weren’t as speedy as they are now and blogging was in its infancy. But I saw the first tower collapse on the TV in the technicians’ room, which by then was packed with teachers. A disturbing and dreadful day. I still didn’t feel like eating hours later.

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