Day 2 promises to be especially exciting as we are gonna see the REAL New York. That's right, it is subway time! We have seen all those Youtube videos of subway entertainment and can't wait to see what unexpected exhibition may be in store for us. However, our ride on the subway is so civilized that I fear we have gotten on a London train by mistake.
Our destination this morning is the 9/11 Memorial Museum. The Memorial is two pools set in the footprints of the original Twin Towers. Waterfalls cascade down the sides into a pool and then into a seemingly endless hole in the middle. The number of names inscribed on the sides of the pools is sobering. It's a thoughtful, beautiful remembrance. I'm relieved to see that no one is dangling their feet in the water, as I saw people do at the WWII Memorial in DC.
Our ticketed entrance is 9:30am, so I check with the husband for the time. He looks at his phone and says "9:11." The boy and I both look at him, a little startled. He shrugs. "That's what it says." We decide we better get in line.
The museum is basically underground, and parts of the original foundation and columns are visible at certain locations. The main rooms are immense, with high ceilings and lots of open space. The largeness of the space appropriately matches the enormity of the 9/11 attack. People are almost completely silent. That's how well this museum is doing its job.
The individual exhibits are smaller and feel more closed in, and seem to mirror the entrapment of those caught in the Towers that day. Throughout the museum, audio can be heard of family and friends of victims reading their names at the memorial service, as well as 911 calls and eyewitness accounts. Minute by minute on the various timelines, the attacks and aftermath happened so fast and yet in slow motion. Your eyes and ears are filled with the horror and sadness and anger of the day, translating into your own emotions.
I was not prepared for how emotional this experience would be for me, although I have felt the same intensity of sadness when visiting the Sixth Floor Museum in Dallas and the Oklahoma City Memorial. All these unspeakable tragedies brought the country together in grief, if only briefly. Reliving each one of them is a poignant reminder of how fragile and uncertain life is.
Eventually, you arrive at a room that is brightly lit. An architectural model of the Twin Towers is in a glass case in the center of the room. On the walls surrounding it are tributes to New York before 9/11 -- showing what a visible presence the towers were in movies, press photos, and souvenirs. It appears New York will always be divided into two time frames -- before 9/11 and after. The placement of this room is a relief from the heaviness you have just experienced. It even has benches as if the museum designers knew you would be ready for a break.
Exit through the gift shop.
Back in the bright sunlight, we head back to the subway. It's time to see where the boy lives in Brooklyn, and as concerned parents, of course we want to see what kind of nasty hell-hole this apartment is. The walk from the subway to his apartment is pleasant, through a nice, quiet neighborhood. Yay! The apartment, which he shares with two roommates, is small, but neat and clean. Everything has a place -- and there's a place for everything! Let me tell you something, people who think the tiny house is a new trend. New Yorkers have been living like this for years! We love the apartment, his homemade chicken salad and the life he is building for himself.
As much as we've enjoyed our subway experiences, we have also been sorely disappointed, and take a cab back to the hotel. Our driver is normal and speaks perfect English. New York, is there nothing about you in the movies that is real?
Dinner and a rest (presumably for the old people, but might I mention that the boy also takes a snooze? Presumably from the emotional draining of being with the old people). It's getting dark, and the boy and I decide to head out for a walk. Husband's old man knee is giving out and he passes on the outing, but offers helpful advice as we leave. "Be careful! Guard your purse!" We step into the hallway, the boy rolls his eyes and says, "It's not like that, Mom." Yet another in a long line of New York disappointments.
The hotel is only a few blocks from Times Square, so we must go there to see all the lights. And it is gloriously lit. And terribly crowded. You guys. We are in Times Square on Saturday night. The boy confesses, "This isn't my favorite part of New York." So now we're on 44th Avenue, also known as Rodgers & Hammerstein Way. I love this! Broadway shows one right after the other! Even though we've elected not to attend a show this weekend, it makes me happy just being in their presence.
And Day 2 is a wrap. But we still have Day 3 to come!
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