Reflections from the Aftermath of September 11

Liberty Plaza, near the World Trade Center, was covered in dust and debris on September 11, 2001. A haunting memory persists for many, particularly the vivid blue sky that emerged as smoke cleared, revealing the absence of what once stood.

In the weeks following, I assisted in decorating the Cathedral of St. John the Divine for a memorial service honoring the employees lost at the Windows on the World restaurant. Blue hydrangeas, blue delphinium, and green mountain laurel adorned the venue, mixed emotions tied to my experiences in the high-end New York floral industry, which provided insights into the city’s elite.

On that fateful day, my absence at work spared me from the immediate tragedies faced by many. It took two years and folding a thousand origami cranes before I could express my thoughts in writing. Eighteen years later, reflections on 9/11 continue to surface, teaching me the cruel realities of grief accumulating alongside life’s blessings.

In years since, my life continued to evolve through various moves, jobs, and personal milestones. Friends relocated, family members aged and passed, and I found myself on the brink of a global pandemic— an unexpected position for someone who had once been at the World Trade Center on September 10th.

The memories carry with them vivid colors and details, from blue hydrangeas to mundane encounters and actions as dust-choked pedestrians fled debris in the streets below.

In the aftermath of the attack, I found solace in observing how smoke could reveal patches of clear sky, reminiscent of that September 20 years ago. The essay I composed speaks to the city’s paradoxical allure. I arrived from Ohio, captivated not solely by the intention to write, but drawn in by the city’s vibrant landscape. Manhattan’s skyline invoking feelings of space and joy amidst its grandeur.

New York city life afforded both spectacle and privacy, shouting at me while fostering creative silence. I penned stories by ear, trying to place a tune through sentences, with my childhood geography lingering as a creative backdrop.

While my journalistic past was marked by brevity and harsh sounds, flower names offered a euphonious alternative: lisianthus, hypernicum, delphinium, calendula. The pursuit for employment in floral design led me to the top floors of the World Trade Center, learning the art of keeping flowers seemingly ageless despite fading and wilting in the light that poured through massive windows.

Floral work taught me the importance of countering the natural order. Arrangements placed at Windows on the World were refreshed regularly, providing brief immortality even as patrons plundered plants for personal trophies.

“The thing I discovered about fancy restaurants, though, was that I loved watching the legions of people who worked, as it were, below stairs.”

September 11 brought an abrupt end to some ordinary routines. Smoke filled the space as the day unfolded unexpectedly catastrophic. In the days following, the studio dismantled floral arrangements meant for delivery, and memorial services for 73 lost restaurant employees left emotional scars.

Though the services marked an emotional turning point, life continued its course. Reports of 9/11 eventually became too difficult to consume. Yet some updates remained etched in memory, revealing glimpses of what took place in the towers before their collapse. Floral life intermingled with survival stories.

The garden-like ambiance of the dining room that Monday stood in stark contrast to the sharp realities of Tuesday’s devastation. We took comfort in observing the cityscape from glass-clad vantage points high above the ground, a view promising refuge amidst chaos.

Ultimately, the echoes of that day still resonate, reminding us of the fragility and resilience intertwined within personal and collective histories.

Andrea Louie, currently serving as Executive Director and Chief Operating Officer of the Serica Initiative, continues to work on Asian community issues across the country. Her literary contributions include a novel entitled ‘Moon Cakes’ and the co-editorship of ‘Topography of War: Asian American Essays.’