I have been to the Pentagon and Flight 93 Memorials and they are absolute perfection. I wrote about them in “Flight 93 National Memorial” and “National 9/11 Pentagon Memorial.”
We had visited Ground Zero in New York City in March of 2002, six months after that day, viewing the incomprehensible from the platform that had been set up for just that purpose. We finally had the opportunity a few months ago to visit the 9/11 Memorial & Museum.
Photographs and video do not do the Memorial Pools justice. They are stunning. They are profound. Standing there listening to the water as it constantly falls, rushes, I try to hear the size of the enormous square before me, its twin echoing not far away. My mind could not comprehend the dimensions of a Manhattan skyscraper nor the amount of people it once held. I did not know what I would feel here, but after two decades, despite all the footage on that day, the anniversaries, the documentaries, the articles, the books; I felt disbelief.
As we left the first to pay our respects at the second tower, a man in civilian clothes stopped and saluted. If we had kept walking we would have passed between him and the pool so we also halted, a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes when my husband explained the scene.
At the adjacent footprint, as I had done at the previous, I traced the letters of one of the victim’s names while I said a prayer for them all. I could not keep my hand off the name panels, following the lines of an “R” here and an “O” there. I wanted each person honored there to know that I remembered them though we had never met.
Planes flew overhead the entirety of our visit. I could hear them but not see them while there, but the one in this photo is visible to me when I enlarge the image on my iPad. The v-shaped building houses the museum. The sound of aircraft flying overhead was a very odd sensation. Alarming, to some degree, as that audio is synonymous with this place. Even more so, though, it is appropriate. This country has gone on, represented by the presence of air travel in our lives. And yet, regardless of the passage of time, with this memorial, the one in Shanksville, Pennsylvania and in Arlington, Virginia, we have not forgotten.
We then went into the museum at our appointed ticket time, 3 pm. At the first desk we saw, which was for tours, we asked where to get an audio guide headset. The woman at the counter was very kind despite the lengthy line waiting for her help, directing us to the audio line which was incredibly long. We decided to forgo the audio assistance, which was a shame.
As we began to walk through the the museum, it became immediately evident to both Mister Rain and me that this was not going to be a good situation for me. First, it was extremely crowded. When we later went to a guide for the best way to exit, she confirmed, without solicitation, that it was terribly full. My husband, who is fully sighted, said even he would not have been able to properly view the displays due to the amount of people there. The continual series of ramps leading downward indeed have handrails, but getting to those railings was nearly impossible due to the hordes of humans. The darkness was the tipping point. It was awful for me. I did not feel safe nor did Mister Rain feel comfortable on my behalf. The combination of the number of visitors and the lack of light quickly left us with no option but to leave. We were only inside the museum about 20 minutes.
My visual impairment does not stop me from living a full, adventurous, traveling life. This was the first and only time my husband has ever deemed something too dangerous for me. I understand that the museum wants as many guests as possible to experience the exhibits. But sometimes more is too much. I also recognize the use of lighting to convey the story of those killed on September 11th, in addition to recognizing this site as a final resting place. I LOVE this country. I am a passionate patriot. I have tremendous regard and strong emotions for our first responders. There are just a handful of things I can no longer do since the loss of my sight 11 years ago. I could not have imagined that the 9/11 Museum would be added to that short list.
I wrote a letter to the Executive Vice President & Director, Cliff Chanin, expressing my concerns. I included all of the above, also asking that they consider making some changes. Like boarding an airplane or the start of a marathon, introduce some days where those of us with disabilities can come to the museum before the general public. The lights could be turned up then. Allow us to navigate in a crowd-free environment. I received a thoughtful, detailed reply which I appreciated. Mr. Chanin was apologetic as well as grateful for my feedback. He assured me that the Memorial & Museum takes accessibility very seriously, inviting me back, requesting I give them the opportunity to learn of my needs ahead of time. In response to the lighting, he assured me that considerable efforts have been made to keep visitors safe no matter their disability status, the features used to do so were listed in his letter to me. As for my idea of allowing disabled people to have access to the museum before the abled-bodied, staffing reductions will not allow it.
Any reply is a pleasant surprise these days. I am thankful to have received such a thorough response. I will visit the 9/11 Memorial & Museum again. For if anything deserves a second chance, it is this place.
#sisterrain #alittlesightalotofheart #legallyblindwriter #ushistory #september11 #neverforget #911memorial&museum
