A Hurt Unhealed

Rick Green, Hartford Courant

September 12 2006

I began with Richard M. Keane and finished with Paul Curioli, following 152 names carved in stone atop a grassy altar overlooking Long Island Sound.

Nearby, a man sat quietly sobbing on a granite bench. A sister placed a framed picture of her brother between two small American flags. A brother-in-law gazed off to the south, toward Manhattan, and smoked a cigar in honor of a lost loved one.

Five years to the moment after the first plane hit, there are just a handful of us out this Monday morning at Connecticut's 9/11 memorial at Sherwood Island state park in Westport.

Visitors sit or stand silently, as if to respect a sign that reminds them that this is "an intimate place in a public setting."

The names of the dead - those who lived in Connecticut and others with family ties here - are engraved on rows of small stone tiles that line the memorial. There were no ceremonies Monday, only the music of the wind and waves from the Sound.

"I'll never work on Sept. 11," said the man on the bench, a Manhattan lawyer who was in the city that morning in 2001. "I didn't know anyone that died. Still, it hits home with me."

A small votive candle burned by the name of Joseph A. Lenihan, who grew up in West Hartford and worked in the south tower.

"I decided to come here today because it is more private," Lenihan's brother-in-law, David Smith, of West Hartford, said. He wore a red "United We Stand" cap and told me about the sad years since Sept. 11.

This place, he said, "is a very peaceful retreat."

I walked on. There was a bouquet with a pink ribbon by the name of Margaret Connor and a more formal flower arrangement by Jeffrey D. Bittner's stone. Around Stephen P. Cherry's name, pebbles made the shape of a heart.

Someone placed a Curious George trading card next to James Matthew Patrick. Alongside Eamon McEneaney, a small button asked all to "Celebrate Eamon." A colorful collection of sea glass decorated Scott O'Brien's name.

A woman with a stroller gently left a single red rose. All around there were fading yellow roses - left at an official ceremony last week - and growing piles of fresh flowers, sometimes from people who stayed only briefly.

I came to a framed picture of a smiling Michael John Simon, flanked by two small flags.

"It's my brother," said Christine Coats, of Greenwich. She comes with her two children each anniversary, and starting at 8:46, they just sit.

"We did the big things [at ground zero] but this is private and it's quiet," Coats told me. "You don't have to say anything. People are feeling the same thing."

Bob Abbate sat silently for an hour before he got up to leave.

"For weeks I'm wondering what I'd do today," said Abbate, of Trumbull. "I just couldn't see marking the anniversary sitting at my desk."

Dwight Nelson told me he comes with his wife and two young daughters to "set up a routine" that honors 9/11.

There was one more, an older woman I can't get out of my mind because I couldn't bring myself to approach her. Her grief and pain seemed too urgent to interrupt in this private, public place.

She straightened a tiny Israeli flag flying over Joel Miller's stone. She kissed her fingers, rubbed the engraved words and placed a small rock beside Miller's name.

Like images of jet planes crashing into the towers, it is painful to watch. She soon walked away, her arms clutching her sides, as if it all still hurt too much to do anything more.

Rick Green's column appears on Tuesdays and Fridays. He can be reached at rgreen@courant.com
Copyright 2006, Hartford Courant

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Connecticut's September 11th Memorial

I spent part of the morning of September 11, 2006 at Connecticut's beautiful September 11th memorial. The memorial is on the shore of Long Island Sound at Sherwood Island State Park in Westport. I just couldn't think of observing the 5th anniversary of that horrible day while sitting behind my desk.