A simple suggestion

A couple details were nagging me.  Thursday night an answer came to me just in that little period between awake and fully asleep. I confess I did not get much sleep that night but the theme repeated through my dreams all night, tossing me awake time after time... a memorial. Now. 

It particularly bothered me because I have no idea how to even get the suggestion to those who would need to hear it.

Besides the obvious problems at hand, the matter of how to quickly move away the rubble, the huge costs of trucking it away and the impact of dumping it on Staten Island or elsewhere bothered me.  When the little vision came, it was like most good plans; elegant in its simplicity.

Take the non-metalic rubble to the edge of the bay (Battery Park?) and dump it,  building out a spit like a jetty.  Then at the end, build up a little island by continuing dumping until all the rubble is exhausted.  This way the rubble has only to be moved a few short blocks, and rather than contribute to the dumping problem, it could be put to good use.

Then, set aside some of the steel from the buildings for some sculptor to build a monument there.  Perhaps we could have the names of each of those who yielded their lives in this, the opening shot in the open war against terrorism.

We don't sweep away the matter, making it as though it had not existed.  We use the very stone and steel and keep it among us as a monument.

I have prepared a couple little illustrations.  For the illustration of a possible sculpture, I have used the NYC skyline with the towers standing tall. 

(Please see: https://www.angelfire.com/ny5/wtcmemorial0/brotherhood.html)

If you like this idea, please forward this note to your email address book, ICQ, Messenger, etc. and let's see what the American people think.  Also, help find a way to get this to the Mayor of New York City, the Director of the EPA and others who can help make this happen.
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A personal note

A few years ago, I was teaching new immagrants at Battery Park.  One morning the whole class came in chattering excitedly.  When I asked what was up, one said, "You have done it!  We never believed it could be done!  We thought it was propaganda, but you have actually done it!" 

When I asked what, they answered that we are all one; every race, every color, every nationality.  They told me that they look at the faces and the way people from different backgrounds speak to eachother and interract, work, eat, how friends greet each other and embrace in the streets.  They said that they were unable to detect any overt diferences, any way in which we treat one another differently because of skin color or background.

I was taken aback because we are so used to focusing on the endless details and issues of equality, on how many little issues and attitudes are there, many of which we were not even aware of until someone pointed them out.  It had never occurred to me that we might have arrived anywhere.  I needed those from outside to come in and look around and wake me to the fact. 
This is NOT a salad bowl as one had written.  This IS the great melting pot.

This is the place where anyone who wants it bad enough can come and be an American.

We don't NEED to say it.  The images flowing around the world displaying the interaction of our people in NYC openly testify it.  True, several countries have lost people this week.  But when the names and pictures come forth of those who were living and working together in those buildings day by day, those names and faces too will testify it. 

If I could distract you from your day a moment longer, I have two other personal thoughts.  One is about the little folk saying about how, when you pass Grant's tomb his ghost calls out to you, "How fares the Union?"  This had always bothered me since I was a child.  Knowing the myrriad family spats and problems, how would I answer him? Now I know.  Now, with full assurance and clear conscience, I could answer him confidently, 
"Mr. President, the Union is strong.  Very strong."

And a last word I would pass along, is about how I was speaking to a man in New York City a couple years ago who had such a strong Eastern European accent that I  had to ask him to repeat himself at times.  When I asked if he were Russian, he was a little bit peeved and answered with his thickly rolling r's, 

"No! American!"
 
 

Repsectfully submitted,
M.K.
9/15/01