The Things We Leave Behind

The epic dimensions of Tuesday’s tragedy have summoned a language of superlatives. The worst terrorist attack in U.S. history. New York’s tallest buildings, laid flat. The biggest blow to America’s sense of security since Pearl Harbor.

Historians eventually will try to make sense of the tides sweeping through America. For the moment, however, the random mementos that the victims left behind give an eloquent voice to some of the nation’s private yearnings. An unmade bed, a prized set of golf clubs or a small glass souvenir from a long-ago family outing.

Every one of the some 5,300 missing or dead in the attacks left traces of a life, each as carefully unique as a snowflake. Collectively, these simple things form a mosaic of human experience, a national scrapbook dedicated to a great national theme: the singularity of every individual.

While investigators in New York continue foraging for forensic evidence, it will be left to the families of the missing people to begin sifting through their loved ones’ personal artifacts. Inevitably, in the weeks and months ahead, there will be questions about what to keep and what to let go.

Last week, Americans joined in an elegiac national symphony of somber pride and grief. The stories below are of a different scale, evidence of the loss and longing, and in a few cases--against all odds--of hope.

Reed Johnson

*

The snapshot is slipped into a plastic frame--nothing fancy--set on a shelf amid family photos and knickknacks. The moment it captured, though, was special: Khamla Singh, 25, shaking hands with Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton (D-N.Y.), both women smiling broadly.

The encounter was one of many Khamla had with famous people at Windows on the World, where she works as a banquet assistant. But fame was merely a small part of her job; Khamla, her relatives say, has always been the type to treat everyone the same.

“She is very happy--the kind of girl that you look at her face and want to know her,” said her aunt, Male Darsan. “And everything she does is with her brother. If she had a quarter cup of water she would share it with him.”

On Sept. 11, Khamla and her brother Roshan shared a ride to the train, leaving their house in Queens at 7 a.m. Khamla pushed to be on time for a conference on the north tower’s 106th floor--where the views brought tourists and natives alike for special events. The family had not heard from either since.

The meeting with Clinton earlier this year had been invigorating. “She told me Hillary had told her something very special,” Darsan said. And soon afterward Khamla placed the memento--a reminder of that message--on the living room shelf.