Lately, I find myself growing tired of memorials, most recently the one that fills the empty hole in the ground where the World Trade Center’s Twin Towers once stood, which its creators hope will, in some way, fill the empty holes in the hearts of so many. Standing at the edge of that pool and listening to the water as it spills in bright sheets, I remember those who died in the terrorist attacks of that September day a decade ago, and I recall other memorials.
Perhaps chief among these for me is the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C. When I saw the design by Maya Ying Lin, a 21-year-old student of architecture, my heart cried against this cold slash nearly hidden in the dark earth. But I have been there since. And I have run my hand over the names of friends who died so far away, and shared tears with others who also stood before that black wall. I found it remarkable that these dark marble slabs could carry such power of closure.
