Andrew J. Lederer

we took the path back to new york, heading toward the world trade center rather than the more uptown stops. this meant a train ride through the pit at ground zero, 'round construction implements and the structural remnants of the twin towers.

what a ride.

i've always sort of scoffed at the tourists who come looking for ground zero because, one, there's nothing there other than a construction pit -- if you don't know what happened (or even if you do, really), there's nothing unusual to see.

two, i feel there's a morbid, rubbernecking quality to the desire to see the site of a massive tragedy.

but

if you're gonna see the site, a trip on a path train is the way to do it.

'cause being inside the pit seemed to communicate the nature and magnitude of the devastation (and the place) in a way that standing alongside it does not.

and -- as if that weren't enough -- once off the train, my friend pointed out one of the only pieces of the original trade center not only still intact but still being used -- the stairs that connected the center to the e train station.

the original flooring is still there -- i remember walking on it before and after visiting the subterranean mall to which it used to connect.

sheesh.

feelings. sometimes you have 'em.

in new jersey.

with her fist clanging like a bell-knocker into my gonads.

it kinda made me nostalgic. (see here and here for background.)

the ringing happened in newark, which my friend and i explored after accidentally taking the path train (the subway that runs between new york and new jersey) in the wrong direction. newark is cool (if that's a legit way to describe it) because, unlike many or most other depressed american cities, it seems to have made little or no recovery in recent years.

walking along its main street, looking at its underutilized buildings from the 19th and early 20th century felt like taking a time machine to the '70s. loud music blaring (this particularly bothered my friend), the sense that no one had money or prospects, the neglected look of things . . .

frankly -- i liked it.

y'see, one is hard-pressed to find an american city these days that is visually unbesmirched by unremarkable new skyscrapers and economic "success". newark is a survivor -- it may be covered by a coat of social and economic torpor but it's architecturally intact -- a real american city from the glory days of industrial america.

sure, i want the people there to get jobs. but not to the extent that anyone wants to build something out there.

hey, i've done okay without a job.