Journeys of the Questress - WTC
Dec 18 - A Sense of Place
The Way it Was - 1
The Way it Was - 2
Sept 19 - When Tomorrow Never Comes
Sept 27 - Oral Interpretation
Oct 5 - A Mile of Tears - Part 1
Oct 5 - A Mile of Tears - Part 2
Oct 5 - A Mile of Tears - Part 3
Oct 11 - Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow
Oct 28 - Each Day I Search the Rubble
Nov 12 - When Spires Fall
Nov 19 - 911 The Rape of America
Dec 14 - Just A Thought
Dec 18 - A Sense of Place
Feb 2 - Final Pass to the End Zone
March 3 - Sitting on the Edge
March 14- Do You Still Remember
March 20 - Virtual Walk-Through
March 25 - When Will It End - Part 1
March 25 - When Will It End - Part 2
April 1 - Towers of Light
May 14 - View From Above
May 30 - Tunnel At the End of the Light
May 31 - Seventeen Hundred
Aug 9 - From the Margins Erased
Aug 30 - The Train Doesn't Stop There Anymore
Sept 9 - Ceremonies of Light and Dark
Sept 10 - Just An Anniversary
Sept 12 - September Holds Great Promise
Literary Reflections
Rebirth and Resurrection
The Winter Garden Springs To Life
The Winter Garden Springs To Life - con't
Underpass to the Past
Rebuilding Ground Zero
Under Hallowed Ground
What Will Fill the Void?
I Submit a Design
Footprints in the Dust
My Memorial Design Submission
My Memorial Design - Drawings
New Path Train Station
Path Station Tour
May We Never Forget
That Which Surives
War Without End
4th Anniversary
Footprints in the Dust
I Miss 9/11
Time Comes Between Us
A Thousand Cranes
Fear Factor
Love Letters On The Wall
Empty Chairs
Sitting on the Edge of Forever
Walking the Perimeter of Emptiness
A Counting of Days
For Friends Absent But Not Forgotten
The Memory Keeper's Promise
Unbreak My Heart
Standing On The Edge Of Forever
Both Sides Now
A Memory In Time
The Gravity of Loss
The Survivors Rise Up
Flowers Will Bloom
The Fire Within Us
The Sentinel
Stronger Than The Storm
Between the Candle and the Stars
A Journey Through Remembrance
Canticle of Remembrance
Beyond the Crucible of Chaos
Journey Through Remembrance project
What See We Now
Forever In Our Hearts
Keeping the Flame Alive
The Rebuilding of Ground Zero continues
Does Anyone Care Anymore?
Where Is Our Story Teller of Pain
At Memory's Edge
Dust Thou Art and to Dust Thou Shalt Return
Heroes Never Die
The Flame Inside Our Hearts
The Year of the Heroes of 9/11
Déjà Vu
Remembering 9/11 in the year of COVID-19
Coronavirus Decimates Ailing Sept. 11 Responders
Touching From a Distance
That Which Survives 20 years later
2021 - 20 years later
Memories of Terror Return
Putin's Name Covered Over On Teardrop Memorial
The 9/11 Tribute Museum Closes
When Memories Fade Away
St. Nicholas at Ground Z is rebuilt
The Blue Wall of the Unidentified Victims
When Time Calls Your Name
When Art Gets It All Wrong


A Sense of Place
Lives used to be more conscribed geographically. People would live in ancestral homes, stay in one town for their whole lives, and travel within a short distance. Cars, planes, and economic expansions changed that pattern. We move frequently, call many towns "home town" during our lives, and usually do not become emotionally attached to public structures. I'm old enough to remember a time when moving meant down the block, not across the country. A time when construction proceeded at a slower pace and the old wasn't torn down with gleeful abandon. However, even today in our constant mobility, we seek for a sense of place. We find comfort in returning to familiar shopping malls, churches, and city locations. And we found out just how much emotional attachment we have to these places when the terrorists vaporized the World Trade Center.
Our public buildings and spaces are the 20 and 21 centuries' form of the town square or the local tavern. We gather there in time of joy and in time of sorrow. The walls, the boundaries, the perimeters, are like gentle arms enclosing us. Holding us together from the buffeting affects of an uncertain world. As I write this, 6 days to Christmas, another public space is experiencing destruction. The Cathedral of St. John the Divine, in upper Manhattan, is on fire. Oh, the building will stand, it is made of immense blocks of stone, but what will happen to the contents inside? The smoke damage, in the least, will keep it closed to services during the holidays. At worse, the precious artifacts it houses inside will be beyond repair.
One individual remarked on the morning news, "how can this happen so close the Christmas, so close to the World Trade Center disaster? We came here to pray after that, and now....what will happen?" This space, that formerly was just a famous cathedral, a gathering place for Episcopalians from the neighborhood, has become a container of memories for many, many


individuals looking for solace in their grief. And now, it too will be shuttered, barricaded, no arms to encircle hurting hearts.
Today I feel that same knotted feeling in the pit of my stomach that I felt as I watched the WTC buildings burning. That same sense of something precious being hurt, being taken from my life. I'm not Episcopalian and do not live in Manhattan. However, I had frequented the Cathedral with dear friends who lived in the area. We walked by it to go to restaurants, attended concerts there, and toured it discussing it's art works. My friends are long gone from that area but these memories vividly remind me of them.

After the WTC disappeared I wondered what other parts of Manhattan had emotional meaning to me. What other places 'anchored' me to sections of my past, or gave me continuity in the present. The Cathedral of St John the Divine did not jump to mind. Not until I heard it was in danger of being irrevocable damaged. Perhaps that is also a symptom of our 21st century life style. We have so many places to frequent, so many paths we travel daily, that we do not appreciate the psychological and spiritual importance they hold for us. We walk on as if in a dream, and then as the dream is shattered by some grotesque reality, we realize just how transient are these places.
c 2001 Leona Seufert