by Adam L Stanley | Sep 11, 2023 | Leadership, Life, Relationships
by Adam L Stanley | Sep 11, 2017 | Leadership, Life, Relationships
Between attending a conference in downtown NY and heading back to the airport, I decided to take a quick walk around. I realized it had actually been a while since I really walked around Ground Zero. Sure, I had been to see the memorial pools. But I had not really looked at the new tower. And certainly had not retraced my steps from that day.
So I did. I walked to the tower down John Street, the same way I had walked so many times before. When I worked for Deloitte, I often went to the 25 Broadway office in the mornings. I would leave there and walk to my client’s office, wherever that was at the time. In September 2001, my client was at One Seaport Plaza. Yesterday was my first visit back to that building in almost 15 years, and the first since wrapping up my project there.
I filmed the above selfie standing in front of One Seaport Plaza. It was harder than I expected.
Below are photos from my retracing of my steps. NY is as vibrant as ever and walking around you are struck by the dichotomy of everyday New York era walking around doing their thing with the tourists, many of whom seem to view the site of the terrorist attacks as a museum or monument to something that happened in the 1800s.
Deloitte at the time was in this office. I remember it being a new state of the art “dot com” office with bright colors and open spaces. The proximity to Wall Street and Battery Park made it a great place to work.
Charging Bull, which is sometimes referred to as the Wall Street Bull or the Bowling Green Bull, by Arturo Di Modica
Fifteen years later, throngs of tourists still line up to rub this guy’s head. And always rushing, New Yorkers laugh, point and sometimes frown as the gawkers wait for their turn to take the same photo millions have taken. Yet, we all get it. And many secretly harbor an inner pride of this thing that is part of the essence of “our city”, America’s city.
This iconic building is a mere shadow of what it was years ago with dozens of yellow jackets standing in front smoking and tourists snapping photo after photo. The increasingly electronic trading and massive security seem to make it less of an interest. Yet, the power that it represents has inspired hatred and protest through the years. To me, this building reminds me of a young boy named Adam who received a game called “Stock Market” as his prize for being the top seller in the 5th grade chocolate bar sale.
Federal Hall National Memorial, Wall Street, Manhattan, New York City
I’m guessing that at least half of the people that walk past this building every day and lots and lots of the tourists have no idea the significance of the building. If I’m totally honest, I will admit that I didn’t really know much about the history. And sadly the majority of what I know today comes from having just watched the musical Hamilton last week. Lol.
The building is actually a great reminder of the significance of this city to our country. This was the seat of the United States government back in the Hamilton days. The statue of George Washington in front serves as a reminder of both his significance to our founding as well as the significance of the city. For me, this brings back memories of walking from my client’s office to grab lunch at one of the many spots right around the Plaza.
George! Who would have thought that over two hundred years later we would have a black president and a black guy playing George Washington in one of the most successful musicals in modern history.
This was my view as I headed home every day. My home was at many times the Millenium Hilton and on September 11th it was the Embassy Suites. The Hilton was born the same side the tower as my office. The Embassy Suites required me to go through the tower everyday.
But it was this street, John Street, that was the focus of so many photos from that horrible day as people ran down the street to escape the Horrors of the attacks. The fact that the debris made it all the way down the street to my office is a shocking today as it was then.
I didn’t realize until yesterday that from the intersection of John Street and Broadway, the new Obelisk sculpture actually brings back memories of the towers collapsing. I do not believe that is the intent. However, the shape from this distance is very reminiscent of the plumes of debris that begin to rush down the street after each towers fell.
I cannot look at this Memorial, both of the pools, without having a very painful reaction. I become both sad and still a bit angry. And I still think that one day I will look through every single name and find someone that I never knew was in the building that day. A former classmate or colleague. At the same time, I find myself having very detached thoughts. For instance, the team that manages the memorial site places white roses on the names of individuals who perished, on their birthdays, as a tribute. I found myself surprised that only 4 people had birthdays the day I took this photo. Of circa 3000 souls who perished, only 4 of them shared this November birthday.
The new building is beautiful and majestic for sure. But it is still strange to see in this place. I still look up and remember the two tall white buildings that once stood where the pool is now run eternally.
Edit
I walked through this pedway hundreds of times, the start of my 20 minutes walk to my office. If connected the buildings of World Financial Center, where Deloitte also had offices, to the World Trade Center site. The Embassy Suites hotel was in this area, and my home for a while. I abandoned several shirts and suits in the hotel, as the smoke and debris damage to a building prohibited our return for several weeks. Eventually, we received a letter saying that we could return and retrieve items but it would be at our own risk. Neither the hotel or the insurance company would take responsibility for any health issues that arose. Needless to say, I took a pass and if there is anything positive that came out of the tragedy, it was a bit of a wardrobe refresh.
The day of the attacks, the South Tower lean towards the Millenium Hotel, almost menacingly. The fact that the hotel was not completely destroyed is actually quite amazing. It reopened almost two years after the tragedy. The significance of the hotel to me is that it had been my home for several weeks, including the week my dad came to visit me in August, 2001. My dad was perhaps the most nervous before he heard from me that day. He knew exactly how close I lodged and worked to WTC.
Before H&M became the go to spot for cheap, disposable clothing, I had Century 21. Socks, belts, t-shirts, oh my. Strangely, seeing this place again was perhaps most impact fully. It reminded me of just how normal that week started. How everyone started that Tuesday just as they had perhaps started the day prior. A quick trip to the store to grab something before heading to work. Or perhaps someone said to themselves, “I will stop by Century 21 on the way home.” But they never made it to the department store just across the street from WTC. They never made it home.
And that hits me hard.
Be well. Lead On.
Adam
Related Posts:
Related Posts:
Remembering 9/11 – 15 years later (2016)
Remembering 9/11/01 – My Morning in Lower Manhattan (2011)
Remembering the kindness of strangers – September 11 (2014)
Retracing My Steps (2017)
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by Adam L Stanley | Sep 11, 2016 | Life, Quotes and Inspiration, Relationships
Never Forget
September 11 – Fifteen Years Later
Adam Stanley – 2001
Many of you have read my stories from the Morning and Afternoon of the awful nightmare that was September 11, 2001. It took two years for me to be able to share my morning story broadly, and several more years to talk about the rest of the story.
I will never forget the tragedy. But I will also never forget the way we rallied together. On this 15th anniversary, I choose to remember it all. The horror and the light that emerged from the darkness.
I remember the friend of a friend of a friend who opened her house to me that night. The four strangers that shared a rental van with me so we could find a train or plane to wherever.
I remember the massive headache I had until I was finally out of the city, literally crossing the border into the city of Chicago in that Philadelphia procured rental van with four strangers. And sharing hugs with my partner, my family, and my friends in Chicago. The joy and love I felt when I was finally able to listen to my voicemails, check email, and see so many people that cared.
I remember the heartache on September 22, when I first returned to New York and tried to start working again. It’s hard to describe but feeling a mixture of relief you could just move on, sadness so many people would never return to their desks, and a bit of melancholy thinking of how little what you were doing actually meant in the grand scheme of things.
I remember the wretched sickness of the smell of burnt steel, and human decay. Walking back to the building so close to Ground Zero. Going up to the cafeteria where I first saw the tower burning and seeing a vast emptiness where once two great towers stood. To my office where the CFO and I had stood watching the events unfold, in anger and tears.
I remember the concerts, the signs, the flowers everywhere, the photos of missing loved ones. I cry thinking of the faces of those who did not know for sure for weeks. Some still do not have any remains to bury.
I remember the names. Oh God the names. That was, and remains, the most difficult part for me. It has been 15 years and I still cannot say for sure that I did not know someone else that perished that day. So many people died. Who amongst the long list was an ex-lover, a former coworker, a grade school friend? Who had sat next to me on the plane the previous day? Was one of the flight attendants someone that greeted me with a smile on one of my countless flights around the country? Someone I stood in line with at Barneys New York nearby, or one of the coffee trucks.
I remember the news. Constant, unending reminders of what happened. Pundits from all over the country, many of whom were nowhere near Ground Zero, pontificating about what happened. Troops being deployed by a Pentagon still mourning the loss of so many of their own. Stories of the heroes and photos of the perpetrators. I remember shutting it all out as much as I could.
I remember the different views of my friends and colleagues. Some of us walked through or were in the building when the tragedy started. Others were merely blocks away. Some worked in midtown but lived near the World Trade Center. Some were out of town when it happened. Others had never even been to New York but were fellow Americans. Many people had a story simply because wherever they were in the world, their hearts were horrified by what had happened.
It was hard for me to talk to anyone for a while after that day. My story was different than their story. And in many ways that made it hard to comfort each other. I could no more comfort someone who personally saw someone falling from one of the towers than I could be comforted by someone who only watched the horror on television. But there was hope and their was a spirit of resilience. There was a sense that we would overcome what happened and be stronger as a nation and as a people.
The media will lead you to believe we have lost all of that. That we have become more divided now than we were then. I do not believe that. I remain full of hope that we can rise above hatred, bigotry and all forms of evil. By the grace of God, we can be better and live better. We can love.
My Ask
My ask is simple. Do not use this 15th anniversary of that terrible day as a means to justify hatred, elect a political leader, or prove just how much more patriotic you are than the next person. Use it to show love. However you know how. “Never Forget” the lives that were lost. But also never forget those that were saved and those that saved. Never forget those who called you that day just to say hello and tell you they loved you. Never forget the renewed sense of optimism you had and the determination to rebuild and prove that we were not defeated. Never forget the people of many races, socioeconomic backgrounds, and religions that rallied together to help those in need.
Never forget that in a moment of pure terror, there was light somewhere near you.
Bring that light back. And the bad guys will never win.
Be well. Lead On.
Adam
Related Posts:
Remembering 9/11 – 15 years later (2016)
Remembering 9/11/01 – My Morning in Lower Manhattan (2011)
Remembering the kindness of strangers – September 11 (2014)
Retracing My Steps (2017)
Adam Stanley – 2016
Adam L. Stanley Connections Blog
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by Adam L Stanley | Sep 11, 2014 | Leadership, Life, Relationships
911: Never Forget
September 11, 2001, Morning
For years, I have shared with many of you, my blog and social media friends, my story of the morning and afternoon of the attacks on America on September 11, 2001. For those who may not have read it, you can click here.
I’ve shared the miracle that I took a different route to work that day and instead of walking through the WTC, I taxi’d around it. I spoke of the shock and the anger and the different emotions throughout that morning as I realized that this was not another boiler explosion but an outright attack. I spoke of the heroism of the first responders and the leaders I saw demonstrate courage and strength in the midst of a crisis that day. I shared my walk through dust and debris across the Brooklyn Bridge and my sense of anger and frustration. And I mentioned that I did not have a clue what I would do when I got over that bridge to Brooklyn.
13 years later, I find myself planning for a trip to New York again, tomorrow, September 12. I am going to celebrate the marriage of the daughter of a good friend, in Brooklyn. I have never publicly shared what happened after I crossed the bridge but I want to share this year. As I celebrate love and union in Brooklyn, I remember compassion, and unity, after such a horrible event changed our lives forever.
September 11, 2001 around 12 noon
When I first walked over into Brooklyn, I remember thinking how ironic it was that this was the first time I had been in the borough. In fact, it was the first time I had left Manhattan. Sad, I know. I had dozens of friends, especially many from my class at Wharton, that lived in Manhattan and, like me, lived a life that was primarily stretching from Lower Manhattan to Midtown. The adventurers in our group lived on the Upper East Side and some even in Harlem but none that I knew were in Brooklyn (tons of them live there now).
A mobile cell tower had been set up near the Marriott Hotel and several people were nearby using the signal to contact family, friends, and loved ones. I started to make calls and confirmed that all of my friends had headed North from Tribeca and were in the “safe zone” north of lower Manhattan. As I stood wondering where I would go and where I would sleep (my clothing was all in the Embassy Suites on the other side of the World Trade Center), I received a call from my friend Kim, checking to see that I was OK. I told her my situation and she made a call to a friend who grew up in brooklyn.
Her friend called a friend and about 20 minutes later I was walking with a perfect stranger to a brownstone in Brooklyn. We had different backgrounds and experiences that morning but the emotions were similar. Along with his girlfriend, we sat in the living room watching events continue to unfold including further buildings falling and information coming out about the attackers.
After a couple of hours, his girlfriend (who is as you have figured out by now 4 X removed from my friend Kim) drove me to her mother’s house. Yes, this was another first. I was driving to Queens. I was to spend the night after the attacks sleeping in a twin sized bed in the room of a boy who I believe was around 8 years old. The room was full of pictures and art work and school awards…. a stunning vignette of innocence in direct and stark contrast to the horrors of the day.
This family that didn’t know me from Adam (pardon the expression) picked me up when I was at my angriest and despairing point, took me to Target to get some basics, fed me and made me feel comfortable in that twin bed in that child’s room in the comfortable house, in the family neighborhood of Queens.
It took about two days for me to get back to Chicago and that trip involved making my way by train to Philadelphia, and sharing a van with more strangers for a drive back to Chicago. Perhaps some day I will share that story as well, and maybe I will talk about my return to Manhattan on September 22. The fact is, there are so many memories, good and bad, and some are housed in the back corners of my mind for my use only. This year, I choose to celebrate the memory of those we lost by thinking of the good that came out of tragedy The unity of a city and the nation. And the compassion of the little boy who slept on the sofa so that I could have his twin bed and try to sleep away the memories of what I saw on the other side of New York.
However you choose to remember, make today a day for doing something kind for a stranger, helping out, giving back, showing compassion. Make a difference to someone. That’s how we honor fallen heros and innocent victims. That’s how we try to move on and bring good from the bad.
Be well. Lead On.
Adam
Related Posts:
Remembering 9/11 – 15 years later (2016)
Remembering 9/11/01 – My Morning in Lower Manhattan (2011)
Remembering the kindness of strangers – September 11 (2014)
Retracing My Steps (2017)
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Click here for story from morning on 9/11.
