Friends,
Every September 11, time feels as if it folds in on itself. One moment I am here, on our Island, watching the sun rise over the East River, hearing the ferry horns and the soft hum of the tram overhead. The next, I am transported back to that Tuesday morning in 2001, a day when the sky was just as clear and blue, yet filled with a horror none of us could have imagined.
I remember the stillness after the first tower fell, a silence so heavy it seemed to cover the entire city. Then came the smoke, the dust, the grief that seeped into every corner. People walked home across bridges, faces gray with ash, eyes searching for familiarity. Some of us were lucky enough to find loved ones at the end of the day. Too many never did.
But neighbors, I also remember what came after. I remember strangers holding each other upright on sidewalks. I remember the long lines of people waiting to give blood, not knowing yet that so few survivors would need it. I remember the handmade posters taped to lamp posts with faces and phone numbers, each one a plea for connection, each one a reminder that behind the tragedy were families, stories, and love.
That mix of heartbreak and unity became our foundation. We could not undo what happened. But we could choose how to live after it. And we chose to reach toward one another, not away.
Here on Roosevelt Island, our 9/11 Memorial Plaque may be small, but it represents something much larger: our shared commitment to remember. We stand there each year, not just in silence but in solidarity. When we gather, when we take a moment together, we say to the world: grief may last forever, but so does compassion.
As we come together this year, I ask that we not only remember the sorrow, but also carry forward the lessons. Our children and grandchildren may not know what that day felt like, but they can inherit the strength and resilience it called forth. By sharing our memories, by gathering in community, by speaking the names of the lost and holding their loved ones in our hearts, we make sure they are never forgotten.
May our Island remain a place where unity is not just spoken of on anniversaries, but lived in our everyday gestures. A smile at the tram stop. A hand reaching for a neighbor’s groceries. A gathering at a plaque beneath steel towers, where the city’s heartbeat is felt most clearly.
Let us honor September 11 not only with reflection, but with presence. May love and unity always be stronger than fear.
With remembrance and hope,
Ericka
What the Promenade Remembers
The light on the East River in the early morning is different from the light anywhere else on the Island. It comes in low and sideways, catching the water in long, uneven flashes. On certain days it makes the promenade feel less like a walkway and more like a corridor someone once meant to finish but never quite did. When I was younger I found the suggestion to stop and look at it faintly ridiculous.
