Reflection on Human Stories: Ellis Island and Ground Zero

Monday I went to Ellis Island and Ground Zero.  I took the train from a place near MaryKnoll to Grand Central Station.  I found my way to Batery Park by subway.  I can't even tell you how nice it felt to be in a place unfamiliar to me--foreign--but yet I was able to freely ask questions to manuever my way to my destination.  The ability to communicate in my native

language is something I no longer take for granted.  

At Ellis Island pride in my American citizenship. There are so many reasons to not be "proud".  I'm reminded of the sacrifice, risk, and adventure that our great, great, greats experienced as they came to this "new world".  We are a beautifully diverse people. This can lead to great problem but I think our diversity is one of the greatest gifts we as a nation have to experience with each other. As I learn about people who are so "other" than myself I'm only enriched. The USA is a people of diversity and we have the potential to be a people who recognize the dignity of every human being. We often get this so wrong.  My thoughts turn to those immigrants and refugees who are doing the same today as many of our ancestors did.  Their stories, their courage and strength is something I highly respect.  

Later on I made my way to Ground Zero and St. Paul's Church.  I walked up on it without knowing how close I had been.  When it dawned on me that I was looking straight forward to the WTC site a wave of emotion came over me. So many lives were lost here, so much pain and terror emerged here. I went to the WTC Tribute Center. It is located to Fire Station 10. They have an audio guided walking tour. I set out to listen and walk the perimeter of Ground Zero. I listened to touching stories as I looked out into the "pit" from the new shopping center created around what will be the memorial site. One woman who lost her husband in one of the towers shared that the hardest day for her was not "9/11". On 9/11 she still had hope that her husband might be alive. 9/12, she said, was the hardest day of her life. On 9/12 she no longer had hope. Her husband had died. What struck me as I listened to the personal stories, much like what struck me in September of 2001, was the capacity for human beings to come together in times of great crisis. People reacted to this human tragedy with deep compassion for their neighbors. This is humanity at its best.  Why is it that we see the "best" and the "worst" of humanity so often intertwined?  The experience of being there at Ground Zero is one I'm grateful for and will never forget.