The Scene at Ground Zero

When I arrived at Ground Zero shortly after midnight on Sunday, a few hundred people had already gathered at the corner of Vesey and Church Streets, the northeastern edge of what used to be the World Trade Center. There was a boisterous but somewhat aimless energy in the air; everyone knew why they’d gathered, but no one really knew what to do with themselves. In between chants of “U.S.A.,” “Fuck Osama,” and “Yes We Can!,” the crowd broke into song—“The Star-Spangled Banner,” “My Country ‘Tis of Thee,” and, of course, “Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye.”

Flags were unfurled, champagne bottles were uncorked, and daredevils climbed to the top of streetlights and phone booths for a better view of the rapidly swelling crowd. At least one celebratory joint had been lit. “Dude, freedom!” someone yelled.

The crowd was young and, as the celebrations stretched into the wee hours, grew even more so. A group of Pace University students, clad in pajama pants and school sweatshirts, had wandered to Ground Zero from their dorm a few blocks away. A candle in hand, Caitlin Mauser, the group’s unofficial leader, described the mood: “It’s similar to the way it felt on 9/11, that feeling of unity. No matter what race, religion, or color, you’re an American tonight.”

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