Standing Tall After 9/11
Illustration © D. Yael Bernhard
This illustration was from the same assignment as last week’s image, depicting the winning college entrance essays written by freshman at Hamilton College, back in 2004. The subject of this essay was much more sober than the last one, as the writer reflected upon the funeral of his father, who lost his life in the tragedy of September 11th, 2001.
This young man was exceptionally tall, and throughout his awkward teenage years strove to inhabit his great height. Envied by his shorter brother but encouraged by his father, he did his best to overturn the stereotypes foisted upon him by his peers: that he was a big clumsy oaf, brainless and graceless. Because of his size he was pigeon-holed into playing the tuba in the school band, and lineman on the football team. To compensate, he took lessons in ballroom dancing and excelled at baseball, where coordination and teamwork mattered more than size.
The ultimate challenge that brought this writer to his full stature was his father’s funeral, in which he remembered his father’s words that he should always hold his head high and take pride in himself. He sought to comfort others at the many memorial services he had to attend, and tried to emit a calming presence for the grieving faces that stared up at him. Girded by his father’s last words that echoed in his mind, he was able to muster the strength to stand tall and face these challenges.
I thought this essay was head and shoulders above the other ones I was assigned to illustrate. This young man’s tragic initiation into manhood made an impression on me – even though I sensed the hand of another, more mature writer between the lines. Whether I was imagining this or not, I felt this college-bound son who had so recently lost his father deserved whatever mentoring and support he received – and I wanted him to succeed. That’s why the darkening sky on one side of the image is followed by a rising sun. The ghostly twin towers cut into his head, forming a symbolic rift – perhaps between childhood and adulthood, innocence and reality, or loss and hope – that he will have to bear for the rest of his life.
That was twenty years ago. I wish I knew what became of this young man, now approaching forty. What did he think of my depiction of him? I had no idea what he looked like. Is he a father now himself? Illustrators rarely have contact with the authors of the content they illustrate. But to me, this man stood out as more than just a character in a picture. I felt like I had met him, and I wanted to honor him for his positive outlook, and for honoring his father. I knew the readers of his essay and viewers of my illustration would share this feeling, too. Tragedy seems to have the effect of bringing out what we hold in common. This essay evoked a sense of compassion, and the bittersweet mingling of grief and hope. I hope its budding author developed that potential, and continues to put it to good use to this day.
A good week to all –
D. Yael Bernhard
https://dyaelbernhard.com
Have you seen my other Substack, The Art of Health? In addition to being a visual artist, I’m also a certified integrative health & nutrition coach with a lifelong passion for natural food cooking and herbal medicine. Now in its second year, this illustrated newsletter explores cutting-edge concepts of nutrition. I strive to make relevant information clear and accessible, and to anchor essential health concepts in unique images. Check it out, and if you like it, please subscribe and help spread the word. Your support keeps my work going!