9/11 in pictures: A day of eerie quiet, sadness, solidarity
A woman chalks a message at the site of a vigil in Union Square on Sept. 14, 2001. After Sept. 11, Monitor photographer Melanie Stetson Freeman spent two weeks walking New York streets and documenting the grief 鈥撀燼nd love 鈥撀爐hat flowed in the wake of the attacks.
Melanie Stetson Freeman/Staff/File
Sept. 11, 2001, started as a routine day at the office, but turned into the hardest assignment I鈥檝e ever covered 鈥� from Boston, where the two planes that hit the World Trade Center towers originated, to New York, a city in shock.
I drove down to New York that evening on highways empty of traffic except for first responders and utility trucks loaded with flood lights. My press pass got me onto the island of Manhattan, where all roads and bridges leading into the city were closed. It was eerily quiet, no cars and no pedestrians. For the next two weeks I walked the city, photographing people and places forever changed. I鈥檝e never walked so much. I鈥檝e never been so physically and emotionally drained.
The smell of ash and smoke, of destruction, filled my nose and mouth. I couldn鈥檛 photograph ground zero itself 鈥� media聽access was severely restricted 鈥� so I photographed around the perimeter. I took pictures of exhausted, soot-covered firefighters walking out after their shifts ended; message boards with photos of the missing 鈥� Have you seen my mother? brother? son?; chalked words of inspiration that bloomed on the pavement at Union Square. People were kind, courteous, generous.
Why We Wrote This
Looking back on 9/11, it鈥檚 easy to remember the horror and the grief. But our photographer鈥檚 collection of images from the weeks following those attacks reminds us of the selflessness and love that also poured forth.
I鈥檝e been to war zones far overseas, but never something like this in my own backyard. Still, as in most extreme situations, goodness shone through.
One night, sitting spent in the back of a taxi after a long day of photographing, I saw a small group on a street corner holding a candlelight vigil. I asked the driver to stop and went over to join them. They were Spanish speakers, immigrants, sharing prayers, holding American flags. 鈥淧lease,鈥� one of them asked, 鈥渃an you help us sing that song, 鈥極 say can you see鈥�?鈥� They didn鈥檛 know the words. I put down my cameras and together we sang 鈥� or hummed 鈥� the national anthem. It was beautiful.聽