
By Michele Leight, for www.ashraya-ny.org. Copyright Michele Leight, 2011
The unsparing and moving black and white portraits by Marco Grob in "Beyond 9/11: Portraits of Resilience, " part of TIME's multimedia exhibit "Beyond 9/11" Portrait's of Resilience Project," records the survivors of 9/11. Some are famous faces we associate with 9/11, some are not. What they all have in common is that their lives changed forever that day. The images here are a poor substitute for the actual photographs, which really must be seen in person. Their impact is totally overwhelming.
All that is left for one mother is her soldier son's helmet, which she clasps to her body as if it were the infant he once was. Grief is etched on her face like physical scars, a reminder that while we go about our daily lives since 9/11, soldiers are still out there fighting on our behalf. Grob's unflinching version of a grieving mother portrays every parent that has lost a child, that must somehow find the will and the courage to keep going.
Nearby, is a portrait of a determined Admiral William McRaven, currently head of the U.S. Special Operations Command, the elite military group that found and killed Osama Bin Laden. His quiet, serious demeanour is reassuring.
There are portraits of noble soldiers, and some that lost limbs. Marco Grob captures how extraordinary these men and women are.
The captions by the photograph of four soldiers in the U.S. Army, illustrated at the top of this story are:
Felipe Pereira: The first thought that you have is you look down at your legs and say are they still there...
Joshua Frappier: We walked into hell basically. We lost a couple of great guys, and I'm sad to say it but they went out doing their job. And I'm proud and I know they're proud.
Nicholas Robinson: A mortar landed about 25 meters from me right outside my guard post. And then a truck bomb - about a thousand pound car bomb - drove through the gate and exploded.
Karah Jarrett: It was very scary. I was a private, brand new into the army, never been away from home.

There are portraits of famous faces that we associate with 9/11, including former mayor Rudi Giuliani, former governor George Pataki, former President George Bush, George Rumsfeld, and many more. Judging by these photographs, that day put a few more lines on their faces and gray in their hair. Like us, they were never the same again. Their faces and voices were relayed over and over again in the media in the days and weeks after the attack, now etched in our memories of 9/11.
Then came the Iraq War...then the war in Afghanistan. America changed forever.

The New York City Fire Department lost 347 men on 9/11. The photograph of New York City Fire Chief Tom Von Essen says it all. The firemen followed orders on 9/11 like any other day, as rubble poured from ceilings, and dust and smoke added to the chaos everywhere. When bodies fell to the ground in the plaza outside the towers, the firemen had to be thinking how bad was it up there that people chose to jump? But "up there" is where the firemen had to go, and up they walked, dragging hundreds of pounds of equipment, higher and higher up burning skyscrapers to help the people stuck on high floors, while those that were coming down told them terrible stories. There were people on fire, injured, and unable to breathe. The firemen knew there was a very good chance they might die, but they kept going.


There is a photograph of the three Riches brothers, Timmy, Danny and Tommy, (illustrated above), all firefighters in the New York City Fire Department, and another of their dad, right beside them, a retired deputy fire chief. The captions beside them read:
Timmy Riches: "The magnitude of it seemed so surreal, like something out of a sci-fi movie. There were no keyboards, no telephones. Everything was crushed."
DannyRiches: "I remember my mom right away said: 'We might have lost Jimmy.' And I just broke down. It was the worst thing I could hear."
Tommy Riches: "I called my father at home early on. And I could just tell in his voice that it wasn't good."
Their brother Jimmy did not come home that day, but his father found his fourth son's body when he returned to Ground Zero to help clear the site in the months that followed the attack. It is tragic that Jimmy died, but three sons survived.

There are photographs, with captions, of people that were up on the highest floors of the World Trade Center that somehow, miraculously, survivied.
Stanley Praimnath, Survivor, World Trade Center, 81st floor: "I'm watching this plane, and every split second its getting larger and larger. I can see the 'U' on the tail, and this plane is coming at me eye level..."
Richard Fern: Survivor, World Trade Center, 84th floor: "It felt like the whole building was going to topple over..."
These portraits make the viewer grieve as if it was 9/11, and that is perhaps the point they make. Never to forget what happened, and who made, and are still making, the sacrifices for us and our way of life. These photographs skewer you to a wall of memories you might want to forget, but they grab hold of you and do not allow you to escape. They tap right into the pain that lies buried deep inside. Remembering and honoring those that died eases it a little, but it will never go away entirely. That kind of pain never does.
Marco Grob's photographs capture the resilience and the unity of the people of this city and country. They say you can tell a person's true character in times of adversity. On 9/11, and in the weeks and months that followed, New York and America showed courage, honor and selflessness. People died saving others, strangers they did not even know. Thousands more survived the attack. They are heroic too. It is not easy to outlive those you love, and that is written in the Grobs portraits of survivors.
Because of the sheer scale of the World Trade Center attacks, individual stories often become submerged. Grob's portraits magnify quiet courage, the kind that does not reach the limelight, and turns it into something hopeful. Heroism has been given a new face.
Reminiscent of Richard Avedon's best work, Marco Grob's stark portraits take us back to that dark day but also move us forward to a place of new beginnings. There are no smiles in these faces, but there is determination, courage and hope for a better future.
Visible from the Highline, not far from the Milk Gallery, is a symbol of re-birth: "Freedom Tower," 1, World Center, etched on the lower Manhattan skyline, also a powerful reminder never to forget.
This exhibit of photographs leaves a lasting impression.

TIME's "Beyond 9/11 Portraits of Resilience Project," also includes a documentary in association with HBO that will air at branches of the New York Public Library.
For more about the backgroud of the photographs in "Beyond 9/11: Portraits of Resilience Project," and the photographer, go to:
http://www.lightbox.time.com/2011/09/21/exhibition-marco-grob-looks-beyond-9/11-with-portraits-of-resilience/#4