The light now shows the beginning of progress. I see steel beams jutting out of the reinforced concrete, which will surround the footprints of the North and South Towers. The footprints will turn into cascading pools of water surrounded by a pavilion for reflecting on the profound losses of that terrible day.
I still don't look inside the ''pit.'' I haven't since that election day nine years ago, when we ran toward what we thought was a fire at the Twin Towers and would learn quickly that America was under attack.
In the years that followed September 11, 2001, each time I covered the hundreds of lives which changed, each time we did stories about the bodies recovered...or not, the sicknesses workers suffer with, the environment, the reconstruction, I thought the moment would come when I could look at Ground Zero. That moment is here now, again, eight years later, and I still can't do it.
The familiar lump rises. The hollowness wells. And the deep sense of overwhelming sadness overcomes me. Everytime I am next to where the towers stood, it is the same today in 2011 as it was in 2001.
