Tonight I went to Ground Zero for the first time.  Its taken me a month to get enough courage to venture down there.  A friend of mine lives near there so we were able to pass many of the barricades and check points created by the NYPD and National Guard and get incredibly close.

The first thing I noticed that far downtown is the smell.  Its hard to describe.  It smells like burnt plastic and a campfire that’s been smoldering over night….but more dense.  The air is actually heavy with the smell even a month later.

The next thing I noticed as we were walking near City Hall, was the empty space.  I would often complain about how hard it is to see the sky in NYC, that its like walking through a tunnel of concrete and cement.  But this time, the empty sky between the buildings where the Towers use to be was nearly heartbreaking.  It was worse than looking down an avenue and not seeing them.  Living here and rarely seeing that much empty space and suddenly being confronted with it, knowing that just one month ago two amazing structures stood there was surreal.  I felt violated.  That my home has been scared irreparably.

I’ve heard that during the day the financial district is full with tourists lately, taking pictures etc.  This is strange because that area is usually very empty in NY after a work day.  Tonight, it was a quiet as it usually is in that area…however, it was full with police, workers, firemen and a few men and women heading home from their work day.  The attitude all around is somber and exhausted.  The buildings are still covered with a thin layer of gray soot (which I”ve been told is much better than it was a few weeks ago) that makes the windows look dark, even if there is light inside from the rare occupied apartment.  For those of you who haven’t been to NYC, I need to explain something.  Our skyline is spectacular because of the lights within the skyscrapers.  Seeing these buildings bleak, and unlit is not how it “should be.”  Its unlike anything I ever thought I’d see in my lifetime…it reminds me of the stories I’ve been told by my mother or family friends of what a war zone looks like.  Down there…the city that never sleeps is sleeping.