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 2003: Winter
Sculpting 9/11
by Janet Hulstrand
As a sculptor, it was only natural that Mr. Rueckert should try to envision
a sculptural response to the events of September 11.
Like many other Americans in the months following September 11, 2001, St. Albans
art teacher Stephen Rueckert passed a lot of sleepless nights. But in his case,
in addition to the usual cluster of worries, fears, and just plain sadness keeping
him awake, there was another problem pressing on him. As the School's
new 3-D-art teacher, he felt compelled to think of some way to offer his students,
and the St. Albans community at large, a means for beginning to deal with the
enormity of the events we had all witnessed, to find some meaningful and lasting
way to express the feelings, thoughts, fears, and hopes we were overwhelmed
with in that first year after the attacks.
As a sculptor, it was only natural that Mr. Rueckert should try to envision
a sculptural response to the events of that day. Gradually, an idea began to
take shape. That idea resulted, six months later, in the installation of a 9/11
memorial piece in the St. Albans Common Room. The finished piece is both a unique
artistic expression conceived and created by Mr. Rueckert and a vehicle for
gathering the collective and multifaceted responses of the School community
to this national tragedy.
In the spring, a letter was sent out to current St. Albans students, parents,
and faculty inviting them to contribute to the piece by drawing or writing their
thoughts about 9/11 on a specially embossed card. The cards were gathered and
dropped into hollow glass twin towers supported by welded steel fragments reminiscent
of the remains of the frame of the World Trade Center. They will remain there,
in what Mr. Rueckert thinks of as a time capsule. Before the cards were placed
in the towers, however, they were all individually scanned, and the scanned
copies of the originals are displayed alongside the sculpture so that viewers
can read and study them.
The response to the call for submissions was as varied in style, tone, and
general approach as the members of the St. Albans community. There were many
heartfelt expressions of a renewed sense of patriotism and love of country.
Many people shared words of wisdom and comfort they had turned to for solace,
drawing upon sources as diverse as the Koran, the Bible, and the lyrics of rock
musicians. Some offered their first-person recollections of the day, and others,
philosophical reflections that had been inspired by the events. The one thing
all of the entries had in common was that they were sincere and honest expressions
of deeply held beliefs and emotions.
For members of the St. Albans community, the sculpture has served as a poignant
way of remembering a day none of us will forget. For Mr. Rueckert, the most
important effect is that it gave his students a way to express their feelings
about what happened.
"At times it was hard to look at the submissions," he said, "especially
the ones from the youngest kids. There's a lot of pain there. But this
can be a first step toward beginning to heal the wounds of that day. I believe
art has that kind of healing power."
Janet Hulstrand, the wife of Stephen Rueckert, is a freelance writer and
editor who lives and works in Washington, D.C.
The following are sample excerpts from the hundreds of cards submitted for
Stephen Rueckert's sculpture.
- "An exquisite morning--crisp, clear, bright, and fragile. Then
a pillar of black smoke boiling up from the other side of the Potomac. With
it, lives, fragile and precious, were lost. Now every exquisite morning, we
remember."
- "On September 11, I was overwhelmed with the sense of having lived
through something that would change the world: I felt uniquely connected with
the rest of humanity, which was struggling with the same event as me."
- "Just before sunset on September 11, I drove up to the National Cathedral.
From Beauvoir I could look down on all of Washington-- the Capitol, the
monuments. The Pentagon itself was obscured by trees, but a huge plume of
smoke rose up and hung over most of the view. Helicopters buzzed low over
the city like dragonflies. Standing on this sweet, innocent ground--where
little children learn and play with their friends--and looking out at
the distant signs of horror, I could feel in my bones what I previously knew
as an abstraction: that we live in a good and blessed place, but evil is never
far away."
- "Every decision That one makes Affects others in Ways he can't
even Dream of."
- ". . . We have mourned; we have wept; we have hung our heads. Now
it is time to fix the problems that led to tragedy."
- "Baseball is not about the final score. It's about the stories
along the way. Yes, just like life, where you know the final score before
you start. Death wins. So what? Let's play."
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