A Few of My Unpublished 9/11 Pictures

Lower Manhatten on the evening of 9/11 2001.

I was sorting through my slide collection, while preparing for our recent move, and came across my binder of slides from New York on 9/11. These are actual, physical slides, organized neatly in plastic binder pages, not digital images.

If I remember correctly, I was just visiting the city that day, staying with my grandparents in Brooklyn. The visit was for work, I’d a post-doc lined up at Columbia and I’d lived in the city before, so I’d not thought to bring my camera with me.

So I walked into Manhattan, against the crowds turned out by the silent subways. Edging against the flux of humanity walking across the bridges away from the tragedy.

And I bought a camera, on the afternoon of September 11th, in a small shop somewhere around 32nd Street. The proprietor was sitting behind the glass cases, following what was going on outside on a small television set. Fortunately, the electricity and credit card system were still working. He was happy to sell me a good, used, fully manual Pentax K1000 (just like the one I’d left at home), and enough slide film to get me through the day.

I’ve always had faith in the strength and resiliency of New York. It’s where I’d spent my first four years, as an impressionable teenager, after immigrating to the U.S., but I would not have been able to harbor any doubts about those first, likely naive, impressions after that day. And this was without seeing or even knowing about the heroics at the World Trade Center. All I could see was the calm and matter-of-factness of the people on the street. Though the arteries had clogged, the blood of the city, its people, still flowed.

Nor was I the only one headed towards the dense clouds of smoke, made eerily attractive by the clear sunlight and pellucid skies of that clear September day. I don’t think I would have made it over the bridge if there were not a few other people, hugging against the railing, edging their way across. That infinitesimal trickle turned into a small but steady stream on the streets of Manhattan itself, which was then dammed up by the police line at Canal Street. Being unable to see anything from there, I turned left and joined the crowd this time as took me back across the Manhattan Bridge back into Brooklyn.

A flag flies over the Brooklyn Bridge.

I figured the opposite waterfront would be the best place of any for me to get any glimpse of what was going on. So, once across, I looped under the eastern side of the bridge and walked along the roads that edge the shore until I ended up in Brooklyn Bridge Park.

The picture at the top of the post is from the Brooklyn Bridge Park. I managed to get two major icons into the frame that are important personal symbols: a piece of the Brooklyn Bridge is on the right edge and, if you squint, you can see the Statue of Liberty (my favorite landmark) on the left. They’re a good reminder of the history and purpose of this great city. I also like that the picture captures the silhouette of the city dove, a graceful symbol of peace, standing against the roiling clouds of smoke, dust and turmoil.

Serialized Canticle

The science fiction classic,A Canticle for Leibowitz, is available in the public domain as an adapted audio serial from Old Time Radio via the Internet Archive.

Inspired by the author’s participation in the Allied bombing of the monastery at Monte Cassino during World War II, the novel is considered a masterpiece by literary critics. It has been compared favorably with the works of Evelyn Waugh, Graham Greene, and Walker Percy, and its themes of religion, recurrence, and church versus state have generated a significant body of scholarly research.

Internet Archive

You can play it here.

Mapping Internet Space

A map of the internet from the Opte Project.

The Opte Project has produced a number of excellent maps of the internet. There is a profound beauty in the immensity of the interconnections that’s reminiscent of the suffusion of stars that can be seen in Milky Way on a dark night on an isolated beach. Unfortunately, their website seems to have not been updated since 2005.

History, Captured in the River Fleet Sewer

Under London, in the River Fleet. Image by suburban.com via Flickr.

History is hard sometimes, when all you have are dates and events to remember. It helps to have context. Montessori schools build a lot of history and social science on the concept of the needs of people. While the need for electronics excites many of my students, another fundamental need is for sanitation.

RJ Evans has a wonderful post, full of excellent photography that will go a long way toward capturing the imagination, which encapsulates the history of London by looking at the evolution of the River Fleet – from a “clear and sparkling” stream in medieval times, to a chartered, elegant, underground sewer system built by excellent, Victorian engineers that still functions today.

Everything is in place, thanks to the ingenuity of the Victorian engineers, to ensure that the Fleet is confined to these tunnels. Yet it was not always like that. If we travel back a few centuries we find a different story altogether – one which is not without its own pathos if such an emotion can be felt for a river.

– Evans, 2011: The Fleet – London’s Underground River in Kuriositas.

It All Depends on Your Point of View-2

Here’s a neat little video, which holds the Milky Way (galactic-centric) steady as the Earth rotates relative to it.

For comparison, here’s the original video by Stephane Guisard and Jose Francisco Salgado, showing the geocentric view of the sky moving:

It is always revelatory to see things from unexpected perspectives. Brian Swimme was amazed by the immensity of it when he first truly recognized that he was standing on a planet that was rotating through space orbiting the Sun.

The inner planets. (from my Solar System Model).

I’ve always been struck by the opposite point of view. To think that if you hold still enough, and think about it a bit, from one point of view you could be the central reference point for the entire universe, with everything else moving relative to you: the Earth still beneath your feet; the Sun (almost) orbiting around you; and the planets arcing through their epicycles.

Orbits of the inner planets viewed from the Earth (a geocentric perspective). Paths plotted using Gerd Breitenbach's neat little applet.