I was fortunate to have worked for a time in the World Trade Center (on the 89th floor as I recall) and visited it many times for business and social occasions. One important feature was the restaurant atop one of the buildings. It was called Windows on the World, and believe me when you looked out their windows, you could see the World.
Within the restaurant was a smaller, more intimate restaurant called Cellar in the Sky. It was a very, very popular restaurant for two reasons. One, it was relatively small, like a neighborhood restaurant. And two, they served a fixed menu with wines selected for the meal by their sommelier.
When you made a reservation, they didn’t tell you what they were offering, so when you showed up, there was a lovely, small menu at your place with the details of the meal and order of service.
What an experience. As I recall, at the time, the meal (including the wine) was $75 per person). It was a staggering amount of money then, but believe me, it was worth every single penny. This experience gave dining out new meaning, and I returned as often as I could afford it.
When the tragedy occurred, people everywhere were stunned. For anyone who’d ever worked in the building or had friends there, it was just unimaginable. Even though I didn’t live in New York at that time, for a moment, we were all New Yorker’s again.
As years went by and progress went on with the museum and new construction, I often thought of visiting; however, I didn’t want to for some unknown reason. I suppose my memories of the time I spent in the buildings were too strong, and I had a hard time imagining none of that existed any longer.
Finally, on a visit to New York City around my birthday, I did head to the museum for a long-overdue tour. It was time.
As I visited the museum, the buildings’ memories, the vibrancy of the activity in and around them, and the subsequent devastating loss of life was overwhelming. There are so many memories – and they all came flooding back the second I walked into the exhibits.
The young and newly married husband of my daughter’s high school friend memorialized there forever. She was 3-months pregnant with their daughter when he died, and while their lives have gone on without him, his name carved in stone as a constant reminder of horrific and unnecessary loss.
There are artifacts, remembrances, photos, voices, clippings, steel pieces, and concrete at every turn in the museum. In the background, through the silence, everyone hears the song “Amazing Grace” played softly and so well by a bagpipe musician.
It isn’t a museum of paintings and sculptures created hundreds of years ago — it’s a living, breathing, and powerful reminder of people, places, and an event that was (and is) unimaginable to everyone.
Please don’t miss this experience. It will remain in your thoughts forever.
Are we there yet? 