Related Resource: Paying tribute to 9/11, seven years later
By Ralph Blumenthal
 AP Photo/James Estrin View the photo collection of 9/11 memorials from around the nation |
NEW YORK — Under chill gray clouds that gradually gave way to patches of blue, the city paused on Thursday to observe the seventh anniversary of a day that Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg said “began like any other and ended like no other.”
Tearful and often defiant, and waving large photos of some of the 2,751 people killed at the World Trade Center, hundreds of relatives and friends steeled themselves and marked the passing of another year since terrorists crashed two hijacked jets into the twin towers. Others gathered in smaller remembrances around the region, in firehouses and parks and houses of worship.
For the second year, construction kept the main ceremony out of the excavated hole at ground zero, but many mourners bearing bouquets and mementos were escorted down a ramp to the towers’ footprints. A few hours later, both major presidential candidates made the same trek into the pit.
Lorraine and Tommy Betancourt, from Astoria, Queens, came this year, as every year, to feel close to their lost son, Firefighter Paul Gill, 34, of Engine Company 54 on Manhattan’s West Side, the father of two boys.
It was important for them to be there. “As long as we can go to the pit to pay our respects,” said Ms. Betancourt, a retired nurse. “They never recovered any part of his remains, so that’s where he’s buried as far as we’re concerned.”
The name of every victim was read aloud and announced by 105 pairs of readers. Each pair included a relative of a victim and a foreign student representing one of the 95 countries that lost someone in the carnage. It took more than three hours to intone all the names.
A bell chimed and the crowd fell silent at four moments: 8:46 a.m., when American Airlines flight 11 struck the north tower; 9:03, when United flight 175 hit the south tower; 9:59, when the south tower collapsed; and 10:29, when the north tower fell.
The reading of some names was accompanied by the release of heart-shaped balloons that drifted over the crowd and out of sight northward over the downtown skyline. When they came to their own son, daughter, husband or wife, many readers added a poignant personal note. “Mommy and I wish you a happy birthday,” said one father.
“I feel he was here that day and coming back makes me feel close to him,” said Joyce Boland, of Ringwood, N.J., whose son, Vincent, 25, died with many fellow workers at Marsh & McLennan’s offices, which took a direct hit.
He had just gotten his master’s degree at Stanford, Ms. Boland said. “He was back in June, started working in July and was killed in September.”
The service opened with the display of the torn American flag that had flown over the World Trade Center and included brief inspirational readings by Governors David A. Paterson of New York and Jon S. Corzine of New Jersey, former mayor Rudolph W. Giuliani, former Gov. George E. Pataki, and Michael Chertoff, the secretary of homeland security.
Richard Sadowy, a retired electrician, carried an American flag affixed to a white wooden cross and a photograph of his daughter’s husband, Police Officer Paul Talty, 40, of Emergency Service Unit Truck 10, a father of three, who died on the 20th floor of the south tower.
Asked, as his 7-year-old granddaughter, Kelly, cavorted happily around, if the anniversaries ever got easier, Mr. Sadowy answered with a single word, “No,” and crumpled into tears. Kelly was born just weeks before the attack.
Along Broadway, thousands of onlookers strained against police barricades to catch a glimpse of the ceremony unfolding against a backdrop of construction cranes. One young woman in a white dress shirt and pearls stopped to observe the moment of silence amid the bustle. She closed her eyes, nodded her head and began to sway ever so slightly from side to side. And when the bells stopped, she opened her eyes to let tears stream down her cheeks.
A male hand reached out to squeeze her shoulder, and she leaned into her companion, wiping the tears away.
As in the city on Sept. 11, 2001, and in the days after, grief mixed with polarized political opinions.
About four dozen people protested near Church and Vesey streets wearing black T-shirts emblazoned with slogans like “Investigate 9/11 — honor the fallen with the relentless pursuit of truth” and “9/11 was an inside job.”
At a small plaza near Liberty Street, a shouting match broke out about terrorism and politics, but the police quickly broke it up.
Outside the ceremony, the murmur of the names of those killed blended with hymns by the Mennonite Youth Choir from Russell, Mass., whose members gathered on the sidewalk to sing.
Near the choir, Julia Indichova, 58, a linguist from Woodstock, N.Y., bowed silently, next to a poster board explaining her mission: the 9/11 Bowing Project.
“I will bow in public on the 11th of each month, and occasionally on other days, at 8:46 a.m.” the sign read. “I bow to the power of good in me and you.”
Around 4 p.m. the two major presidential nominees, Senators John McCain and Barack Obama, walked together down the ramp, with Mr. McCain’s wife, Cindy, and Mayor Bloomberg behind them. Michelle Obama was home in Chicago with the couple’s daughters on Thursday.
And at firehouses around the city, the day was marked with solemnity. At Engine 4 and Ladder 15 on South Street, firefighters in navy blue dress uniforms lined up in rows to observe the moments the two planes struck and the towers crumbled. The two companies lost 14 members on Sept. 11, 2001.
At 8:46 in Park Slope, two dozen firefighters from Engine Company 220, Engine Company 239 and Ladder Company 122 stood in dress uniforms outside their side-by-side firehouses on 11th Street. The flag was at half-staff. A buzzer went off. A voice on a loudspeaker announced, “We will now observe a moment of silence for all members of the department who gave their lives on September 11, 2001.”
Then, as at firehouses across the city, the men quietly bowed their heads. Lt. Vincent LaMalfa, 39, of Ladder 122, said he was thinking of the cousin he lost seven years ago. He did not want to talk much.
They observed their moments of silence, he said. “Then we get on with our day for the most part.”
Reporting was contributed by Ann Farmer, Jason Grant, Patrick Healy and Karen Zraick.