Be respectful when paying respects - opinion

Last week, I visited New York with my husband Jeff, and daughter, Orli. It was a pre-army trip for Orli, who is due to be drafted into the IDF in November. We wanted to go somewhere special to mark this important Israeli milestone, and New York was top of her list.

It had been 22 years since I last visited the Big Apple. On that occasion, I went with Jeff and Dan, our eldest, who was a small boy at the time. We planned the trip around child-friendly activities, such as toy shops and exciting landmarks. Naturally, the Twin Towers were a big draw and the memory of standing on the viewing deck, with Dan in my arms, is as clear as day. I still remember the clothes we were both wearing at the time.

That was just a few months before the fateful day in September when the world changed forever.

Like most, I was profoundly moved by the events of 9/11, although I wasn’t directly affected by them. The vision of standing there, holding Dan, kept coming back to me in the months and years following that horrific event. I found it impossible to comprehend that the towers no longer existed. The platform on which we stood, laughing and joking, without a care in the world, had been obliterated.

AGAIN, METICULOUS planning went into our recent trip with Orli. We crammed in as much as possible and took dozens of photos wherever we went.

Among the many places we visited was the 9/11 Memorial.

Returning to that spot, to pay my respects, albeit belatedly, was something I felt compelled to do.

Generational gap

Orli, the youngest of my four children, wasn’t even born when the planes flew into the Twin Towers, killing 2,753 people and shattering the lives of countless others.

She knew about the events of 9/11, of course, but couldn’t fathom the sheer magnitude of the horrors that were unleashed on that day.

On the morning of our visit, we made our way to the financial district and had a bite to eat before walking to the World Trade Center where the memorial is located.

As the area honed into view, I became unexpectedly overwhelmed. Instead of looking around the museum, we headed directly to the footprints where the towers had stood all those years ago, which now house two haunting Memorial Pools. Their vast simplicity, coupled with the names of those who had perished inscribed on their perimeters, was a sight to behold.

And then the tears came. My daughter, who was somewhat surprised by my reaction, simply asked me if I was okay. I felt a little foolish and reassured her that I was fine, just a bit emotional.

She then asked me what it was like on that day.

Suddenly, I realized that she, like so many others from her generation, had no memory of what happened there 22 years ago.

OF COURSE, there are those youngsters whose families were forever altered by the events of 9/11, who have lived with the scars borne by their mums, dads, brothers, sisters, etc. ever since.

But for my daughter and most of her contemporaries, who were born after 9/11, it is of course a significant piece of history – one that they learn about from their parents or in school – but not one that has had a profound effect on their lives.

Nevertheless, all visitors to the site, regardless of age or proximity to the events of that day, should be mindful of the fact that they are standing in the precise spot where thousands of people were murdered.

Orli was aware of that, and acted with decorum, although sadly, many others didn’t. Instead, they took smiling selfies and group photos by the Memorial Pools.

Perhaps the 9/11 Memorial and Museum should take their lead from the Auschwitz Memorial and Museum, which has asked people not to pose for an Instagram-worthy photo on the train tracks leading to the concentration camp where more than one million people were systematically murdered.

Similarly, the 9/11 Memorial and Museum should ask people to be more respectful and cognizant of their surroundings when posing for photos by the Memorial Pools, where almost 3,000 people were killed.

The 9/11 Memorial is a place for quiet contemplation and remembrance, not for taking happy holiday snaps. Many would do well to remember that.

The writer is a former lawyer from Manchester, England. She now lives in Israel, where she works at The Jerusalem Post.