Today is 11 September, and two years ago today—well, we all know what happened two years ago today.   What New York went through has grasped the attention of the whole world; early this morning I gave an interview to the BBC in England about life in New York after the terrorist attacks.   That interview caused me to coalesce some thoughts about how the city might be rebuilt and what directions I think it might take.   I am not an architect nor an urban planner; I am a priest in a small parish—hardly a mover or a shaker in any way   at all.   But I think about these things, and thought that it might help me—and maybe others, too—were I to put some of the thoughts in some order.  

I was not a great fan of the World Trade Center.   I am interested in good architecture, and, I hate to say it—it almost sounds unkind and unpatriotic—but I did not like the twin towers. They were, in my view, tall boxes.   I remember as a teenager in San Francisco when one of the first of the “moderne” hotels was built, a strange boxy affair paneled in, God help us, red, white and blue metal side panels.   It was ugly.   One of the columnists in the local papers in those days referred to that hotel as looking like “the box that they sent the Palace Hotel in.” To some degree, the WTC was the same.   Big, boxy affairs.  

And, they interrupted the traffic flow of the neighborhood.   Walking around them was an all morning affair.   Walking through them was confusing, because one lost ones bearings so easily.   There was little “street life” around them—few outdoor cafes or businesses that opened onto the street—everything was up or down or inside.   I found out two years ago, after the terrorist attack, that these two towers had replaced a dozen blocks and two or three streets—an area called “Radio Row” because it was a place where radios and the precursors of electronic equipment were sold and repaired.   All gone in the blink of an eye.   And now, so are the towers.  

There are many people who are still in anguish and pain from the loss of life on that awful day.   And many of them wish to leave the tower sites empty as a memorial. I can understand this.   But I think it is wrong.   Here is why.   It is, I think, incorrect to think of this area as hallowed ground in the sense that a graveyard is hallowed ground.   It is awful to think about it, but a part of the awfulness of that day is that those who died there left little discernable remains and many of the remains are now, I am sorry to say, in distant places.  

Blown away by the blast, carried off by the wind, vaporized by the fierce heat—they are gone.   They are not there.   Are some of the remains still there?   Yes, they are, but not in the distinct way that a graveyard contains remains.   This is more like a site where cremated remains have been strewn—they are gone.

And, the best memorial, I think, would be to honor what those who died were doing there when they met their horrible death.   They were working.   They were participating in the American way of business and commerce, finance and management.   They were creating and managing wealth, enabling opportunity and distributing goods.   The best way to remember them would be to honor what they did by rebuilding something elegant and, dare I say it?, commercial.

There must be a memorial.   And there should be an elegant, classic space with suitable art chosen from among the styles which have stood the test of time.   There might be names.   But to leave the open spaces as they are now is to preserve what is, in fact and effect, a pit of death.   To leave it as it is would be to concede to the terrorists that one can destroy our city.   I am not prepared to make that concession.  

Most of all, the reconstruction gives New York a chance to correct the mistakes we made in the first WTC.   Let’s restore the streets, create a neighborhood with a round-the-clock, accessible street life.   I have visited in a lot of other American cities, and the distinctive thing about New York is that most of the city runs 24 hours a day, with cafes, theatre, art—all manner of culture open to the street, accessible to those who stroll or bustle along our streets and avenues.   Yes, towers would be nice.   But let’s not force people to climb up through closed offices or climb down into something like a basement to enjoy what the WTC has to offer.  

As I think about it, what I would like to see is life.   Life on and of the streets.   Life accessible to those who stroll about the financial district.   What the terrorists did was to say that we should not have life, and from many among us, those people stole lives.   By creating a lively, engaging space, we can rebut the terrorists and remind the world that they were wrong.   And that their view of the world will not carry the day... Not in this city.  

By the Rev’d Lloyd Prator, Rector
Saint John’s in the Village
Episcopal Church, New York City