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A worn-out nation seeks closure on its horror story

David Usborne
Saturday 14 September 2002 00:00 BST
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"Sleep and drink," the television producer for a US network replied yesterday when asked about her plans for the weekend after one of the longest stretches of 12-hour days she can remember. There was no smile or ironic tone with her words. She was beat.

America, in fact, is beat. The country – and New York especially – is worn out by a week that began with the nation's terror alert reaching Code Orange, then staggered through the emotions of the 9/11 remembrance on Wednesday and concluded with intimations of war, and more death, from George Bush at the United Nations on Thursday.

So, to borrow the initials of the popular vernacular and of the restaurant chain, we all said together TGI Friday. We said it last night because, really, we had all had enough. We may not all resort to drink today, but we do yearn for that "normality" Washington keeps exhorting us to rediscover, but that, in recent days, has been in short supply.

But, probably, we hope for too much. Many uplifting words and consoling phrases were uttered on the first anniversary of the attacks on the World Trade Centre and the Pentagon. We heard about "heroes" and "honouring the dead". We heard words written by Abraham Lincoln at the end of the Civil War. But here is one word no one dared speak: "closure".

Certainly, there was a measure of catharsis for those who participated in the anniversary remembrances. Or, indeed, for the millions who watched them on their televisions. (All the networks reported strong ratings for their torrents of coverage on Wednesday, with the highest numbers for a repeat playing of 9/11 on CBS, a documentary film made by two French brothers about one fire station in Manhattan and shown in Britain on the anniversary.) But can we really say we have reached closure?

We wish we could, but we cannot. There will be more anniversaries – two-year, 10-year, 25-year – and while they will not be marked with the intensity of the first one, they will take a special place on this country's calendar for a generation or more. Only one thing might dull that date; if, God forbid, it is trumped by another day of even greater atrocity that is yet to come.

"Closure is not proclaimed," said Thomas Lynch, a well-known funeral director at a seminar called Death, Bereavement and Mourning at City University here last week. "It is achieved – and rarely." In other words, it would have been wrong for Michael Bloomberg, the Mayor of New York, his predecessor, Rudy Giuliani, or George Bush to have thrust closure upon us in one of their speeches. Maybe we craved the word itself but it would have been hollow.

Indeed, it is Mr Lynch's thesis that even to seek closure at this point would be tantamount to disrespect for the 2,801 whose lives were brutally stolen on that terrible Tuesday. "All that the dead require," he told his audience, "is witness and remembrance."

Wednesday's events were a triumph of planning. There was dignity and touching solemnity in every detail, whether it was the bagpipe processions through the dark, predawn hours to lower Manhattan from the outer corners of the five city boroughs, the ceremony of remembrance itself at ground zero, culminating with family members placing flowers in a "circle of life" on the floor of the massive pit where the towers used to stand, or the lighting, with President Bush in attendance, of an eternal flame at Battery Park at sunset.

But the process of honouring the victims has only just begun. Also on Wednesday, the city unveiled a temporary wooden billboard on the edge of ground zero, bearing all the names of those who were murdered. Already, it is becoming a new shrine for the bereaved.

Joan Weiss Prowler was there on Thursday, to pick out the name of her son, David Weiss, a fireman who was killed when one of the towers crumbled around him. Her only regret was that it was too high off the ground for her to reach. "You have to touch something," she said. "You have to touch and remember."

One day, that sign will be brought down when a permanent memorial is put in place. But when? It took the United States many years to settle on a design for a physical tribute to those who had fallen in the Vietnam War. The black marble wall of engraved names now stands in a deep trench on the Mall in Washington DC. And there is every sign that deciding on a design for a memorial in lower Manhattan will take every bit as long.

In fact, the arguments about what should happen on the ground zero site were only fanned by the emotions of last week. Mr Giuliani again expounded his view that all 16 acres of ground zero should be set aside for some inspiring edifice to honour what was lost on that day, the lives and the buildings.

"He means a library, a museum and some grand, soaring structure reaffirming New York City's skyline so people can experience both the heroism and the horror of that day," a spokesman for the former mayor confirmed.

Yet Mr Bloomberg is determined that the city's more traditional instincts of commerce should claim at least part of that devastated space. He wants a memorial there, of course, but also housing and swaths of commercial and retail square footage. He seems unmoved by the more sentimental impulses of his predecessor.

Nor is he ceding to those who attended Wednesday's ceremony, who now argue that the flower-encrusted "circle of life" somehow be preserved. "Going forward, it will be the views of all the people who were there – and many, many more who were not there – who will determine how that site comes back into use," he said.

And closure cannot come when reminders of the terrorists and of their atrocious deeds continue to lurk everywhere, at least here in New York. The police department has new recruitment advertisements on the sides of buses now. "You can be a hero too," they intone with minimum subtlety.

And the buses, by the way, were not moving in Manhattan yesterday, because of gridlock caused by the General Assembly debate at the United Nations. And because of the extreme security the meeting has demanded in these times of Code Orange.

And what about the UN? A new agenda has been thrust upon it by President Bush. It is the agenda of a gathering war against Iraq, a war he has explicitly linked to the terror plot of 9/11, and a war that may bring more death, probably on a far greater scale. No, we cannot expect closure yet. Everything conspires against it.

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