A day that changed the world

Most people can tell you where they were when they heard of John F. Kennedy’s death, or Diana’s, or the terrorist attacks of 11 September 2001.

I had been living in the US with my family since 1998. On the morning of 11 September, a brilliantly sunny, blue-sky day, I drove my car out of the garage of the apartment block on West 89th Street, New York City and drove across the bridge to New Jersey to meet with a friend.

On the New Jersey Turnpike, I noticed the car in front had stopped and the driver was taking photos. I looked east to see that one of the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center was on fire. I immediately switched on the radio and heard that it had been hit by a small plane.

I arrived at my friend’s house full of what I had seen. In the living room, the television showed the collapse of the first tower. This was an image which was repeated endlessly for days, along with the image of the plane flying directly into the side of the second tower, so much so that it became almost banal, like a sequence from a video game.

There was an atmosphere of total chaos. Paralysed by shock, no-one knew what was happening, or what would happen next. The decision was taken to close all the tunnels and bridges leading back from New Jersey to New York City, which left me stranded. I had several kind offers of a bed for the night but I knew I had to get back to my apartment where my 17-year-old daughter was on her own. My husband was in Japan, my son in England and my other daughter in South America, where she watched the confusing scenes on the tiny screen of a local bus.

I eventually heard that the occasional train was running back to the city, so I left my car and made my way back home. Arriving in Penn Station at 1am, I had to walk home through a deserted city. The absence of traffic and people was frightening.

The following few days were unreal. Central Park in the glorious sunshine was full of families—on a Wednesday— and strangely silent. Everyone was aware that, a few miles away, the most gruesome recovery work was beginning. Our church was involved in volunteering at the Ground Zero site. My daughter and I distributed food and drinks at the Seaman’s Mission very close to the site, supporting the many

When I visited, the roar of cars was the furthest thing from my mind! Rather there was the tranquil hiss of the prairie planting artfully designed by the internationally renowned garden designer Piet Oudolf. The visitor strolls among beds of grasses, seed heads and colourful perennials all designed to soothe and inspire the senses. The threeacre garden contains species chosen for their hardiness, durability and ever-changing textures and colours that give interest through all four seasons. This garden differs from other public Oudolf gardens, being run by an all-volunteer grounds crew.

Also on the island were a series of near-empty hiking trails that lead to the Livingstone Memorial Lighthouse, perhaps the world’s only all-marble lighthouse, and an Art Deco beauty.

Beyond the lighthouse there was a shallow lagoon, where families picnicked and swam. There were numerous hidden beaches and glades among the trees: you could be in your own private idyll.

This was further emphasised when, walking along a deserted path, I first heard and then saw in the distance a sight I never envisaged: a singing ice cream seller. Dressed head to foot in a candy-striped suit and a straw boater, and pushing his hand cart, he offered locally-made ices and sorbets. Surely this was a scene from an Italian movie, or somewhere in Provence, not the middle of Detroit!

So, was I surprised? You bet! Are there more surprises awaiting my next trip? Undoubtedly! I’m enormously proud of my hometown and can’t wait to see how these projects evolve. Vive la Detroit!

Facing page, clockwise from top left: Seeds mural, near Eastern Market; Wetland in the shadow of the Renaissance Centre, Detroit Riverside; Produce on offer at Eastern Market; Polka dot house, Heidelberg Project Above: Livingstone Memorial Lighthouse The new One World Trade Center, reflected in the memorial pools on the site of the old WTC

volunteer firemen who had flown in from all over the country, using up their holiday entitlement to do so.

There was a lot of flag-waving and defiant singing of God Bless America, but also a deep grief for the nearly 3,000 souls who perished in the most unimaginable horror. Without doubt, that day had a profound effect on the world we now live in.

Rosemary Piggott Marlow NWR