Kinematics

jamie: 18th Mar 2005 - 14:12 GMT

I lost my piece of wtc rock years ago. I always felt slightly uneasy in my ownership of it. It felt wrong somehow

elaine: 16th Apr 2005 - 09:26 GMT

uncomfortable thing to have a souveneir of, I imagine, and certainly a momento mori. The way you write about this is the most evocative and meaningful account I have read. I was in NY the following May and looked down into the abyss there, a fenced off void, but what struck me was the surrounding buildings which were still covered in the netting which I suppose is about broken glass or superficial structures, but which were, I seem to remember black and printed with stars and stripes (which were, in any event, absolutely everywhere), so they looked like massive upended coffins

Stacey: 20th Jun 2005 - 18:47 GMT

Please Jamie do not feel that way. I lost my nephew and many, many friends. To hold a piece of the WTC is to hold my family and friends in your hands. To keep a reminder of that day means that you will never forget. To Peter - I hope you will always keep that piece with you whether on display or in a personal, private place.

Peter: 8th Mar 2006 - 16:55 GMT

i have it. every so often, when i move or rearrange, it turns up. in a box. on a shelf, under the desk, in the nightstand drawer... i do not display it or make any issue of it, i do not take photos of it or think of it often or talk about it aside from here. but by chance, i end up rediscovering it once or twice a year. once, my wife asked me "whats this rock for?" and i explained. i have never seen a confluence of sheer enlightemnent and terror as that that crossed her face as she held it and i told her the story explained above. it transformed from a meaningless object to a heavy, heavy relic tied to one of history's greatest tragedies in one single second, in her very hand.

it is most uncomfortable. and the fragment holds so much pain and death.

but as long as it turns up none-too-frequently every now and then, i know its contained, and that the terrible story it could tell is muffled away in a drawer or box.

i have been told that i, like many new yorkers, suffer no small abount of psychosis from what i saw happen that september morning. and in some strange way, in my own mind's eccentricities, having possession/control of that fragment gives me possession/control of the unspeakably chilling emotions and memories i permanently have from that event.

EvilGentleman: 8th Mar 2006 - 20:37 GMT

No matter how open-minded or compassionate I may consider myself to be, I am ashamed to realize that I have never actually thought about the fact that the events of that September day have been burned forever into the memory and consciousness of the millions of people in New York that day as they watched the sensless murder of thousands of their fellow human beings. I cannot imagine the horror of watching such events with the naked eye, of hearing the rumble of the collapse intermingling with the screams of other onlookers, of the smells associated with that day, of the terror of not knowing if more was yet to come at any moment.

I started to write about my own feelings a moment ago, about what I experienced watching this horror from the Arctic, where I was safe, yet still connected. After the first few paragraphs, I realized this post would not be appropriate for this article, which is about Peter and the stone he holds for his friend, and the burden of pain carried within. Perhaps a separate article is more in order, where my babbling will be less out of order. I shall see.

One thing I must ask however; Citynoise was created in 2001 as a personal blog for you, Peter? Might I ask, was it created before or after that terrible September day? I guess what I am actually asking is, did the events of that day create a need within you to vent your emotions in a creative manner, and thus citynoise was born? If so, then this site shall, in one respect, be a permanent, positive, vibrant, living memorial to the fallen.