Remembering 9/11: A Series

Yesterday marked the seventh anniversary of the attacks on September 11, 2001. This short series features photos from the recently dedicated Pentagon 9/11 Memorial, as well as a personal essay of remembrance.

The Day the World Stood Still
In Remembrance
Pentagon 9/11 Memorial: A Guided Tour
More Pentagon 9/11 Memorial Pictures

Pentagon 9/11 Memorial: A Guided Tour

The Healing Field and the USAF Memorial in the background.
The field of flags is a temporary feature.

Until yesterday, Washington's newest monument and memorial was the United States Air Force Memorial. As of 09.11.08, our newest memorial is the Pentagon 9/11 Memorial. Situated on nearly two acres of land on the west side of the Pentagon, the memorial honors and remembers the lives of 184 souls lost on 09.11.01 in the worst attacks on American soil since 1941. It's location on a military reservation with public access is unprecedented, but fitting and right.

As you enter the memorial, you cross a threshold created by stones taken from the rubble of the Pentagon and etched with the date and time American Airlines Flight 77 slammed into the western facade of the building. Yesterday's entry begins with a picture of that threshold.

The bench of eight-year old Zoe Falkenberg.
She and her three-year old sister, Dana, were
the youngest victims of the terror attacks.
Their benches face eastward, indicating they were on Flight 77.

There are 184 cantilevered benches across the memorials two acres. They are situated by age--beginning with the youngest victim, three-year old Dana Falkenberg (born 1998) and ending on the other side of the acreage with 71-year old retired Naval officer John Yamnicky (born 1930.) As you walk the perimeter of the memorial, years are set in stone and stainless steel runners indicate the dateline and those born in that year who died on 9/11. Within those birth years are the benches of each victim. For example, when looking for Scott Powell's bench, a USAF sergeant informed me he would be found in the row for 1966--Scott's year of birth.

One of the 125 benches facing westward,
indicating the individual died in the Pentagon.

The benches are oriented based on whether the person who perished was in the Pentagon or on the airplane. Each bench is engraved with the name of the person who died. If you're standing at the end of the bench looking at the name and you see the USAF Memorial in the background, that person was in the plane and their bench is facing eastward toward the Pentagon. If you're looking at a name and you see the Pentagon as your backdrop, that person was in the building and their bench is facing westward toward the USAF Memorial. Fifty-nine benches are oriented eastward and 125 are oriented westward.

A son remembered: many visitors left mementos and flowers

Visitors may leave mementos and flowers. These items and organics are gathered up every day at 8:00 p.m. The flowers are discreetly discarded and the tangible items are cataloged and held by the military for 30 days. At the end of that period, the items are reviewed and are either sent to the family of the individual upon whose bench they were left or remain in the possession of the Pentagon Memorial archives.

Contemplative

The memorial is open to the public 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. It is recommended that visitor's use Metro, as there is no visitor parking on the military reservation for the public. The memorial can be accessed by riding the Blue or Yellow lines and disembarking at Pentagon Station. If you must drive, parking is available in the Pentagon City Mall--about a 10-minute walk from the memorial.

This is the third and final installment in this series on the Pentagon 9/11 Memorial, however I can guarantee I'll be going back and taking and posting more pictures in the months ahead. To see additional photos from last night's visit to this serene, healing memorial, please visit Standing Room Only.

An additional photo essay from the Washington Post can be found here.

Photo copyright: D.C. Confidential, 09.11.08

In Remembrance

Stone taken from the rubble of the Pentagon and laid here as a threshold
marking the date and time terrorists flew American Airlines Flight 77
into the Pentagon killing 59 passengers and 125 Pentagon personnel.

Today, on the seventh anniversary of the attacks on New York, Washington, and Shanksville, the first 9/11 memorial was dedicated this morning before a crowd of 15,000 family, friends, and colleagues of those killed on AA Flight 77 and in the Pentagon that day. This evening, at 7:00 p.m., the memorial opened to the public.

Flight attendants gather at the bench of a colleague

I arrived just before 7:00 and left a little after 8:00. Hundreds of people are pouring into this new memorial and paying their respects. These are just a few of the pictures I took this evening.

Scott Powell

This post is dedicated to the memory of Scott Powell and all of the men and women who died on September 11. Scott was the twin brother of Art Powell, a colleague of my sister, Janeen. Janeen and Art worked together at the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission annex in Alexandria, Virginia. They, along with their colleagues, lost friends and family members both in New York and Washington that day. Janeen couldn't join me this evening, but she asked me to find Scott's bench.

The bench of Capt. Lawrence D. Getzfred, USN

To read the stories of those in Washington, D.C., and its neighboring towns and communities who were personally touched by the events of September 11th, click on the links below.

Their Lives Were Shaped by Loss
From Families' Grief, a Symbol of Loss and Hope
The Nation's First 9/11 Memorial: A Photo Essay

The Healing Field : Nearly 3,000 flags commemorating the lives lost on 9/11

Photo copyright: D.C. Confidential, 09.11.08

The Day the World Stood Still

A blue linen suit, a Brooks Brother's shirt,
Tiffany knot cufflinks, and Bass Weejuns

Seven years ago today, 19 hijackers in four airplanes wreaked havoc on our country and set in motion a chain of events that still defy understanding. I was living in California at the time. It was a beautiful day on the West Coast. Fall was in the air. I was getting ready for work when a friend called and said, "NPR is saying a plane just crashed into the World Trade Center." I had visions of a small plane, but when I turned on the news my interest at this oddity turned to shock. I remember standing in front of the television and watching in horror as the second plane banked and flew into the second tower. Then I listened as it was reported that Washington was being attacked. I called my family to make sure they were okay.

I remained riveted to the t.v. as I watched the first tower fall. Reeling in disbelief, I did the only thing I knew to do. I got in my car and headed to work. On the train into San Francisco, we all shared the same emotions and you could see them on our faces: uncertainty, fear, and unity. As we disembarked, the train operator said, "Whether you believe in God or not, may he bless us today and may God bless America." I don't think there was a soul among us who objected.

As I entered the office that morning, my colleagues were gathered in clusters, seeking solace from one another. Months later while on business in New York, our employees in our Manhattan office would show us where they had stood at the windows in their building with a direct line of site to the Trade Center towers and watched the entire event unfold before them. A few of them were unable to get to their homes in the New Jersey suburbs until the next morning. My friend, Adriana, who lives in Brooklyn, would later email me and some friends and tell us how she walked home across the Brooklyn Bridge.

Back at work they told us, if we wanted to stay, we could and if we wanted to go, that was an option as well. Many of us chose to go and be with friends and loved ones. I went down the peninsula and stayed with a friend who was working for a high tech firm. When she arrived at her company, she and her colleagues were turned away from the building because it lies directly beneath the flight path for San Jose International Airport. We watched t.v. until we couldn't anymore. Still uncertain about what was happening in our country, we decided, if we were going to die, we might as well be somewhere beautiful, so we went to the beach and sat in silence staring at the ocean, knowing things would never be the same. Later, I remember watching footage of the last flight to land at San Francisco International being escorted by a fighter jet, then the silence of no commercial flights for several days, but the roar of combat fighters the rest of that day.

I'll stop there, but in case you're wondering about the picture, this is the suit I was wearing that day. I will never forget.

Photo copyright: D.C. Confidential, 09/08