“The Garden of the Dead”

Last night I went to hear photographer Joel Meyerowitz talk and show some of the 8,500 photos he took at Ground Zero. The first obstacle he had to overcome was Mayor Giuliani banned photographs from being taking and the NY Police Department were faithful to carry out their orders.  Meyerowitz speculated that Giuliani’s reasoning was he didn’t want the site to become commercialized and sensationalized.

But being the persistent street photographer he is, Meyerowitz found ways to get around the system and onto ground zero with his camera— though day after day he was escorted off the site. Eventually, he was adopted by a group of detectives on the scene and kind of given immunity to shoot. Meyerowitz told story after story of how the rescue teams worked to recover bodies, or part of bodies were recovered from the site. He told of the smells (bad) and sounds (loud) of the site. He told of how a female crane operator took a stand to bring dignity to the civilians whose bodies were recovered. He told of a trumpeter who was allowed on the grounds one night to play taps.

Meyerowitz was there until the last structure was carried out to bagpipes and the site closed on May 30,2002. But, to me, the most memorable thing he said last night was when he talked about toward the end of the process when workers were down to sifting through the dirt with rakes looking for the last remnant of the victims—be it a belt buckle, a ring, or simply a tooth—someone said they looked like gardeners. And one of them said;

“We are gardeners in the garden of the dead.”

That line seems more like something the prophet Jeremiah would write rather than uttered by a worker at ground zero. That’s the power of words. Just nine common words we’ve all heard before, but not quite in that order. And when placed in that order convey quite a powerful image. (And just when I thought that would make a good title, a quick Google search reveals a 1974 Sci-Fi/Horror feature film with the title Garden of the Dead. Nothing new under the sun, right?)

There will no doubt be stories that will emerge for the next several decades surround the events and lives surrounding 9/11. There will be poems, and short stories, novels and movies. And the best ones will do what stories do best, they will engage our hearts and minds—and they leave us with a sense of hope. Just as the final image that Meyerowitz showed last night as a few blades of glass emerged from the rubble.

Meyerowitz’s photos are gathered in the book Aftermath. 

Scott W. Smith