Occupy Wall Street ... and then the real work

This morning, our first morning in Manhattan, I decided to start at the beginning, at Bowling Green. According to tradition, this is the site of the legendary sale of Manhattan to Peter Minuit in 1626. 


J.A.S. Oertel, Pulling Down the Statue 

In 1770, a statue of King George III was erected on Bowling Green and an iron fence was installed to protect it. Then, on July 9, 1776, after the reading of the Declaration of Independence, the statue was toppled by angry citizens. The iron fence still stands, a reminder that Americans have long been known for both contemplative citizenship and mob rule.

From there I walked up Broadway – just two blocks – and arrived at Zuccotti Park, the site of the Occupy Wall Street protest. I was hoping to catch a little action, but at 10:30 a.m., the protesters were nearly all asleep.

To be honest, I arrived at Occupy Wall Street with a negative perspective. I question whether the Occupier’s individual, disparate demands are attainable, nevermind desirable.

But then I remembered the theme of my blog, which is to see the "good qualities of men". So I opened my eyes and mind, and I approached one of the three protesters. “What would you like to see happen as a result of your protest?”, I asked, hoping that he would give a persuasive explanation for his actions, something worth admiration and respect. But he just rambled about Zuccotti Park – how empty it looked before the Occupiers arrived, in contrast to it's current condition. “Look,” he said, “Look at the life it now enjoys!”

Zuccotti Park is a slightly sunken park, so your eye naturally looks out across the sea of pup tents. I looked at the tent city; it was sadly lifeless, late in the morning. He then complained – not energetically – about banker’s greed, but he didn’t know what he wanted the bankers to do, specifically. And that was it. One uncertain, lackadaisical protester.

From Occupy Wall Street, I walked to Ground Zero. It's adjacent to Zuccotti Park, yet it is a world away, a-buzz with the sound of 3,000 workmen.

I peeked in at the workmen’s gate and was hollered off by a police officer. Just then, two workmen walked out and laughed at me. Seeing a prime opportunity, I asked them about their work.

Joe and Bill are plumbers from Connecticut and Albany. The 9/11 Memorial will feature two enormous fountains, so I can only imagine the width and breadth of their jobs. The guys were starting to walk around to another area, and they invited me to walk with them. As we walked, they talked a bit about their families, the nor’easter that left Joe’s house without power, and their work at the site. They feel honored to be a part of history, as they should.

Many of the peripheral buildings are still yet skeletons in the process of being re-glassed. I didn’t expect to see skeleton skyscrapers, and there are several - they are a jarring reminder of the destruction that took place there, ten years ago.

As we walked, Joe and Bill showed me how to get to the best public overlook site, and arriving there, I met Shane and Shirley from Melbourne, Australia. Shane has done several tours of duty in Afghanistan, and he has lost several friends in the fighting there. I suppose I’d never thought about the other forces that are fighting alongside Americans. Shane opened my eyes. He talked for quite awhile, and I think he enjoyed telling an American what it’s like for an Aussie to fight in Afghanistan.

I met others, too – Annie showed me a tiny little garden near the hotel, Marcelo directed me to Pain le Quotidian ("the best patisserie"), and Sarah, a Wall Street Journal writer, helped me fix my “oops!” after I accidentally hopped the train to Brooklyn. Oh my goodness, how enriched I am to have spent my day with all of those wonderful, beautiful strangers.