My gesture didn’t change what happened. But it kind of let everyone know we’re all human. The pain was shared. Different pain, different losses, but everyone felt it. We were all hurting.
Divisiveness continued throughout the next months and years, especially in certain legal negotiations. But from a human standpoint? That closeness and being together was clearly a better way to be.
That man I hugged? Pre-pandemic, we’d bump into each other downtown here and there, now and then, at functions and so on. He put his energy into something very productive and we developed a good working relationship. Every single time we see each other, we automatically hug each other. We still have a valued relationship.
As time went on, we dealt a lot with FEMA. The president had declared that the U.S. government would stand beside us. He kept his word. The federal government approved $4.55 billion in disaster recovery money.
Those funds were received by a public-benefit corporation called Empire State Development. The governor of New York State and mayor of New York City set up another state/city entity within EST called the Lower Manhattan Development Corporation, which dispersed the funds for very specific rebuilding projects. LMDC was also charged to come up with a plan for rebuilding the area.
So now we had more entities to talk to, deal with, work with. It was a complicated process. Plus, the global community was watching everything we did, jumping in with thoughts and opinions. I mean, this was a global issue. In fact, over the years, as part of my outreach and communications plan, we briefed world leaders whenever they would come to pay their respects, as well as elected officials at all levels of government from all across the United States.
In fairness, the situation was new for everyone. It was a case where the owners of a property, which had been destroyed, were working with a new partner to determine what ultimately was going to be rebuilt on the site. On top of all that, there were more than a few lawsuits thrown in.
The first and maybe the biggest was an insurance dispute brought from Silverstein Properties. It wasn’t against the Port Authority, although it eventually involved us.
See, from an insurance standpoint, there were going to be payouts. But the insurance companies decided that 9/11 represented one terrorist incident. Silverstein claimed it had suffered two attacks, one when the first plane hit Tower 1, a second when the second plane hit Tower 2.
The lawsuits went on and on, the negotiations, the court hearings, all of it. Eventually, it was determined that 9/11 represented more than one terrorist incident but less than two. I think they put the final figure at something like 1.5 or 1.6 occurrences.
I mentioned that our agency was involved. This was because we also had insurance claims pending, and the precedent set in the Silverstein case would affect our own insurance payout. Which, in turn, would affect the scope of rebuilding.
The court finding for the Silverstein case adjusted how much money the Port Authority recovered from our insurers. At which point, we had to renegotiate our lease with SPI.
Larry’s initial lease had a proviso that said, should the facilities suffer a complete loss, he had the right to rebuild in kind.
Now, I want to state this up front. There was no foreshadowing here. No conspiracy theory. Provisos like this are something you normally do in insurance, just like with a homeowner’s policy. There’s language in there for a complete loss of the structure. Very normal.
But the right to rebuild in kind meant the World Trade Center would be rebuilt precisely as it was. A Tower 1, a Tower 2, and so on. Each tower exactly the same height as before. You would just replicate them. That wasn’t feasible.
Again, there was literally a global outcry about what should be done at the site. Some people thought nothing should ever be built there again. Some people thought a park should be built. Or a memorial. Just let it be a final resting ground, they said. Other people had strong beliefs that the World Trade Center should be rebuilt precisely as it had been before the attacks.
For as many people you spoke to, there were that many opinions on what should happen.
But almost right away, we knew that rebuilding in kind was impossible. We couldn’t just put up new towers and call it a day. There would have to be a memorial. Back then, we didn’t know what form it would take. But we knew there would have to be something.
So, we had to renegotiate that lease. Which led to another renegotiation. Which set the stage for another. Three renegotiations in all, all hashing out multiple angles that were developing while we worked.
Since Larry had net leased roughly ten million square feet from us, we had to come up with some way to give him that. Precisely how we’d distribute that space wasn’t necessarily spelled out early on. You know, like in two towers, two low-rise office buildings, that kind of thing. It was just too soon for all that.
We still had to go through the design competition. LMDC set up listening sessions held at the Javits Center where people could come, take a look at the concepts being proposed, and comment on them. They put these sessions online so people all over the world could participate.
We knew that, whatever design was chosen for the campus, it would have to take certain program elements into account. The Silverstein lease being one of them.
Ultimately, a jury selected the design by architect Daniel Libes-kind for the master plan and Michael Arad’s memorial design called Reflecting Absence. This jury included LMDC, the city, and the state. But when I say “the state,” I mean both New York and New Jersey.
See, back in the day, the process was in fact very participatory. The governor of New York made it clear that New Jersey and the Port Authority, which is kind of co-owned by both states, would always have a seat at the table. So that’s what happened.
You may have read there’s sometimes a pull-and-tug kind of relationship between the states, where the Port Authority is concerned. That didn’t happen here. Remember, we’d lost Neil. But when it came to appointing a new executive director for the agency, the governor of New York waited until a new governor was seated in New Jersey. That was done as a courtesy. It was very respectful.
I’m saying that people were being sensitive to everyone’s needs and interests. Collaboration after a national disaster; I think we all found that very refreshing. And this spirit of collaboration lasted for quite some time. Politicians and public servants from both states maintained an honest working relationship.
Let’s be clear. An honest working relationship doesn’t mean you always agree. In this case, what it meant was we were able to hold conversations, even on issues where there wasn’t agreement. And to do so in ways that were productive.
I don’t mind telling you there were days when I thought, “I don’t know how we’re going to do this.” Everything happening downtown was so Herculean. And tiring.
Had anyone taken me aside at the very beginning and painted an accurate picture of the work that would be required, or said that, “Hey, twenty years later, you’ll still be working on elements of rebuilding the World Trade Center,” I might have run the other way. Well, okay. That’s not true. I was in it to finish it! I always said, “We need to fix what happened to downtown.”
But I can recall plenty of difficult situations. Like, there was a time—this was years down the road—when the site was under construction. And one of our people here at the Port Authority is Steve Plate. He’s now our chief of major capital projects.
Steve was in charge of rebuilding the entire new World Trade Center. Everything inside the construction fence was his purview. My piece of the puzzle was everything outside the fence, the GOCOR piece—like working with media, networking with our partners, local businesses, and residents. But I strategized often with the folks at World Trade Center Construction. Steve and Alan Reiss, they were the guys in charge. Guys I still work with on other major capital projects today.
Now, Steve’s a tenacious, smart, dedicated guy. He knows how important it is to keep a project moving forward, and what it t
akes to get it done. But there were times I’d have to go in and say to him, “Look, we can’t keep building at 2:00 A.M.”
Steve would listen. He’d digest and find an accommodation. He always found balance and common ground. Having partners in rebuilding the Trade Center campus was important. Why was I telling Steve we couldn’t build at 2:00 A.M.? Because there’s a woman named Pat, a very vocal and active member of Community Board 1. At the time, she was chair of the Quality of Life Committee. She lived directly across from the World Trade Center site, and I’d arranged with Pat that if she were awakened at night by anything we did, she could call me and wake me up, too. That was only fair, right? And she did. I’m not joking.
Pat is patient, understanding, strong, and smart. A lot of fun. She kept me on my toes, as did Catherine, who chaired CB1 for years.
We forged a very productive partnership for the benefit of Lower Manhattan, along with the late Liz Berger, who led the Downtown Alliance during the really difficult periods. And many more on CB1, some of whom are no longer with us after so many years. Bloomberg, Patty, Nanette, Nancy—what a great team from the city. These people … we worked together, do you see? By working together, we produced results. And we became friends.
That’s the point I’m trying to make. The story of rebuilding downtown is a story of cooperation. Doesn’t mean it was easy or that we were always on the same page for every issue. We all had a job to do. But that journey led me to create friendships with people who, normally, I wouldn’t be in alignment with. We all pulled together. It was that kind of effort.
Thinking of partners, I have to mention my work partner. One of the best working relationships and friendships I’ve ever had. Sandra Dixon.
We lost Sandra a couple of years ago. Sandra was one of my greatest strengths at work throughout all this. She would always listen, advise, and share. She always allowed me to breathe and laugh, clear my head. We had such different backgrounds, but we were such great friends. I miss her. She contributed so much to rebuilding the World Trade Center, and she contributed so much to me. Her family needs to know that.
Now it’s twenty years later, and I see a country that’s forgotten how to pull together. I don’t know if we’ve lost our way or if maybe we’ve just forgotten how strong we can be. Even with tremendous political ideological differences, we can be strong and unified.
When people think of 9/11, they often say, “Never forget.” Well, clearly we haven’t forgotten what happened that day. But I’d like to think we could, maybe on the twentieth anniversary, start to remember what we became that day. More unified. More one.
Remember those people I told you about who stopped me on the street? The ones who jumped out of their car and left it parked in the middle of the road? How those strangers gathered around me? How moving and powerful that was?
Some of those people didn’t know me from a hole in the wall. And some, you know … I’m sure we had different politics. Different viewpoints. But we were all human beings, all Americans. Our differences didn’t matter. And I think we may have forgotten that simple message.
This has become a theme of mine when I think about 9/11. On occasion, I’ve spoken about it: from darkness comes light.
Remember? It was such a beautiful day. Then it got dark. Dark emotionally, yeah, but the sky literally became dark downtown. Still, there was so much beauty and good that came out of it. You saw people coming together, helping strangers they may never, ever have seen again.
On that day we saw what evil was capable of. But also on that day and in the time that followed, we saw the power and beauty of humanity when good people come together. I remember how people cared for each other, stranger or friend.
We were a very strong community back then. I’d like to see us become that again.
I guess after all this work, I’m still trying to figure out what it all means. Not sure. But I’ll tell you this.
On September 10, 2001, there were still plenty of New Yorkers who would say the World Trade Center was ugly. Architecturally, I mean. That the idea of a superblock was a bad idea, from a public planning perspective.
And look. I know that now, twenty years later, there’s still a lot of conversation about what was rebuilt down there. But I think what we did was perfect. And right. And wonderful.
Think about this. Roughly half the sixteen acres is now a beautiful, tranquil memorial that preserves the original locations of Towers 1 and 2. Personally, I think having the names engraved on the parapets of those footprints is fitting. I also like that the museum is largely below ground. Working with Alice Greenwald, the CEO of the 9/11 Memorial and Museum, and our steering committee with Jon Stewart, John Feal, Cathy Blaney, Michael Arad, and so many more—we created a beautiful and appropriate addition to the memorial plaza, to recognize and pay tribute to those first responders who’d succumbed to 9/11-related illness.
That includes my cousin, Charlie Wassil.
Now, think of the new buildings we put up to flank those structures. I think it was absolutely the right choice. There was criticism about the Transportation Hub, the cost of it, the architecture. Well, I absolutely love the Transportation Hub. That dramatic spine and wings of the Oculus. It helps us remember by positioning a “Wedge of Light” on the site. Plus, the passages below grade serve and connect all of Lower Manhattan. It’s such a spectacular space.113
If you look for it, there’s a lot of meaning that went into everything that was done. I’m proud that we took a tragedy and created a place where the general public, someone who’s not a millionaire or a billionaire, can go and enjoy astounding architecture. And that’s the word for it, really. Astounding. They can go and reflect. They can work. They can live. That’s the whole point, isn’t it? Living.
Back in the day, I used to say, “Given what happened, shame on us if we do anything less than something magnificent with this site.” Something compelling, something extraordinary. That’s what the global outcry required of us, and I’m glad both the governors in New York and New Jersey saw it the same way. The Port Authority, too. Plus all those who came along in the years that followed.
Had we listened to criticism, even our own internal criticisms, certain things would never have happened.
Did you know that, back in the day, the project to make Central Park was way over budget and way behind schedule? It was. But what would have happened if they’d cut that project in half? We wouldn’t have Central Park the way it is today.
I’m glad we had the backbone to stick things out. That we had the vision and strength, despite opposition, to do the things we did. Nothing was easy.
But now we have beautiful buildings and a beautiful World Trade Center. We’ll have a couple more buildings to come. It’s a space that delicately balances what happened on 9/11 with living today and in the future.
When I reflect on all that, I feel incredibly proud and honored to have been a small part of something so huge.
110 The slurry wall is a three-foot-thick concrete structure that was constructed around the World Trade Center’s below-ground area, to hold back the Hudson River and keep the buildings’ basement levels from flooding. From a structural standpoint, the slurry wall is critical to the site’s integrity.
111 Founded in 1957 by Chairman Larry Silverstein, Silverstein Properties (SPI) is a full-service real estate firm that specializes in developing, managing, and investing in properties spanning the gamut of office, residential, retail, hotel, and mixed-used designations.
112 Everyone has heard of the famous New York City subway system. Less known to out-oftowners is the Port Authority Trans-Hudson rapid-transit system, which connects Lower and Midtown Manhattan with cities like Newark, Hoboken, Harrison, and Jersey City across the river in northeastern New Jersey. Like the subway, Long Island Railroad, New Jersey Transit, and Amtrak train systems, PATH play a vital role in New York City commerce, and therefore the commerce of the United States.
113 Designed by Spanish architect Santiago Calatr
ava, the World Trade Center Transportation Hub station house, better known as “the Oculus” or “the Hub,” was opened to the public in March 2016. The $4 billion project provides entry to PATH lines and other modes of transport, such the New York City subway system, by linking with Fulton Center to the east of the World Trade Center campus and with the Battery Park City Ferry Terminal to the west. The Oculus also plays home to the Westfield World Trade Center mall. From street level, the World Trade Center Transportation Hub presents as an angled cage of interlocked white metal ribs that towers over downtown traffic and looks markedly different than any other structure in Lower Manhattan.
CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS
The photographs in this edition of the book have all been donated by gracious photographers, both amateur and professional alike:
Abby Bullock
Frank Cutler
Damon DiMarco
Dick Duane
Rob Epstein
Fred George
Edward Hillel
R. Andrew Lepley
Bob London
Jessica Murrow
Drew Nederpelt
Steve Olsen
Michael Raab
Bobbie-Jo Randolph
Robert Ripps
Sheperd Sherbell
Scott Slater
Roger Smyth
Andrew Walker
WITH THANKS TO …
Martha Kaplan
Jeffrey Goldman
Kate Murray
Charles Goforth
William F. Brandt Jr.
Stephen Adly Guirgis
Carmen Suarez
John Liantonio
Glenn Guzi
Michael Z. Jody
Louis and Darleen DiMarco
Ethan Sky DiMarco
Tower Stories Page 52