January, 2002

Bearing Witness
By George Takei

I felt a rising sense of gravity as I was driven toward Manhattan. I'd just completed my engagement with Slanted Fedora Entertainment's Star Trek convention at the Meadowlands in New Jersey. The skyline of Manhattan was clearly visible in the crisp, mid-morning light. I saw the elegantly tapered silhouette of the Empire State Building once again dominant as the tallest structure on the horizon. The vacancy in that skyline was heartrending. It was almost as if I were being driven to visit the grieving family of a deceased friend - except that I, too, was a member of that family.

As we emerged from the Lincoln Tunnel into the relentless hurley-burley of 42nd Street, it was almost comforting to be engulfed by the familiar New York assault on the senses. Neon lights blazed in broad daylight. Traffic noise blared in competition with each other. And the unyielding mass of humanity still poured through the streets with determination. New York was resiliently, vibrantly alive.

The next morning, I went on my pilgrimage to "Ground Zero," the place of the devastated remains of the World Trade Center. There was a long line to the viewing platform that had been built just east of the site. It snaked past the wrought iron fence surrounding the cemetery of old St Paul's Chapel dating back to 1780. The fence had become a grieving wall covered with photos, letters, Christmas wreaths, and other offerings posted in memory of the deceased and missing. They were bright, young people with ascendant careers. They were seniors ready to enjoy retirement. They were janitors and restaurant workers. They were people with names of every ethnicity in the world. When I read a letter addressed to "My little brother, our dearest son," my emotions wouldn't be contained. Tears ran cold down my cheeks. Snowflakes were falling softly. They reminded me of the ashes that fell from the sky that horrible September morning. When I reached the platform, I was stunned by the sheer enormity of the site. Sixteen acres of barrenness where once there had been structures teeming with the energy of global commerce and the two tallest office towers in the United States -- all only memories now. In their place was a vast emptiness. Only a great hole in the ground with a tangled mess remained. Tractors moved somberly among the rubble, clearing the wreckage. Only the day before, the remains of another person had been found. Surrounding this huge void were scarred, soot covered, vacant buildings, some covered with black netting like shrouds of mourning. That snowy January morning, I relived in my mind and bore witness to the horror and pain of the morning of September 11, 2001.

I bore witness to the results of that dreadful day, but I know New Yorkers who actually lived through the terrors of the atrocity. Through friends with the Asian American Legal Defense and Education Fund, I arranged to have lunch with one of the heroes of September 11th, Officer David Lim of the Port Authority Police Department. A native New Yorker, he told his story in the punchy accent distinctive of Queens. Officer Lim is with the Canine Patrol in the World Trade Center. He was in the basement of the South Tower with his dog named Sirius inspecting the incoming cars when his walkie-talkie crackled that there was an explosion in the North Tower. His first thought was that someone had gotten a bomb past them up into the building. He left his dog in the basement kennel and ran to the North Tower. On pure adrenaline, he rushed up 44 floors past fleeing people in roughly 20 minutes. There were office workers still sitting at their desks too stunned to react. Officer Lim went from floor to floor making sure everybody got out. He was in the stair well at around the 27th floor, when the whole building started to vibrate and rumble. It was the South Tower, which had been hit second but collapsed first, coming down. The North Tower was still upright. He urgently needed to get everyone out quickly. Officer Lim continued bellowing at the top of his voice, "Down is good. Down is good." When he reached the fifth floor, suddenly the entire building began to shudder with an indescribable sound combining an approaching train with an avalanche. He heard the snapping of pipes and cracking of concrete together with the deafening roar as they began to fall. He remembered thinking, "If I'm gonna die, please God, make it fast." Then there was silence. Miraculously, he and two other officers found themselves together and alive, trapped in a pocket. They were imprisoned in that cranny for about five hours before they were able to claw their way out. He ended his story by telling us, "My dog died in the collapse of the South Tower. I know exactly where Sirius is. They still haven't gotten to him yet."

I had dinner with Stan Honda, a photojournalist friend, who took photographs of the attack on the World Trade Center that have now become iconic. His picture of an African American woman completely covered in ash, looking shell-shocked and almost ghost-like, staggering away from the wreckage was published in virtually every newspaper and magazine in the world. Fortune Magazine used his photo of the ash-coated businessman, still in full suit and tie, still carrying his briefcase, on its cover. As I reminisced with Stan about my trips to New York in the early 70's, noting on each flight the progress of the steel skeletons of the World Trade Center as it worked its way 110 stories up into the sky, he shared with me his panic working frenetically as the great structures came roaring down.

A photo exhibit titled "Faces of Ground Zero" opened at Grand Central Station while I was in New York. I made a date to get together with my actress friend, Pat Suzuki, for lunch and a viewing of the exhibit. The display was made up of bigger than life-size photos of the heroes of the tragedy taken with a giant camera the size of a small room. The oversized images of people that we would ordinarily call "common guys" -- firefighters, police officers, medical workers, spouses of those that didn't survive, and others -- were profoundly moving. They were "common guys" caught in an extraordinarily uncommon situation who rose to the full challenge of the occasion with uncommon valor. They were the faces of the muscles and energy of working New York. They were the faces of the diversity of New York -- Hispanic, white, black, Asian and, yes, Middle Eastern. They were indeed, the faces of American resolve and American unity. Those faces and the quotes accompanying them were, at once, deeply touching and so uplifting. Over lunch, Pat revealed to me that for a couple of months, she had gotten up at 4 a.m. in the morning to volunteer as a breakfast cook for the rescue workers at ground zero. It seems all New Yorkers were involved in one way or another. They are all kindred.

After New York, I flew to Park City, Utah, for the Sundance Film Festival. I had worked on a small, independent film titled, "Noon Blue Apples" last year and it was to be premiered as part of the festival. I had been to the Venice Film Festival in Italy twice but this was my first visit to Sundance. What a contrast! It was as dramatic a difference as snow and water, as distinct as skis and gondolas. However, there are also similarities. Both are storybook cities. Both places look like movie sets - one a floating Italian Renaissance capital turned popular tourist destination, the other an old western mining town turned ski resort. The energy, excitement, tensions, and partying are exactly the same. The overwhelming choices of film screenings are dizzyingly alike. Deal making seemed to be going on everywhere at Sundance, in restaurants, bars and even street corners. "Noon Blue Apples" is a psychological thriller by independent filmmaker Jay Lee with a fine performance by young actress, Lauren Fox. A member of the cast, actor Montel Williams, has a chalet in Park City and threw a lavish party for the cast, crew, press, and distributors. Jay and his producer sister, Angela Lee, were energetically wooing potential distributors.

During my four days at Sundance, I gorged myself on movies - from midnight screenings to early morning shows. But, like gorging on food, constant movie going can cause cinematic indigestion. I ingested some discomforting movies. Among them, however, were gems that I enjoyed greatly. "Love in the Time of Money" and "The Laramie Project" were impressive films with wonderful performances. But the very last movie I saw at Sundance before I left for the airport was the best. It was a 9 a.m. screening of an independent film starring Robin Williams titled "One Hour Photo." It was the highlight of my Sundance movie-going experience. First time feature director Mark Romanek had given Robin Williams his most challenging opportunity to stretch his creative muscles. And he rose fully to the challenge with a brilliant characterization of a sad and chilling loner. I predict that both Mark Romanek and Robin Williams will be Academy Award contenders next year.



George Takei Statement on Proposition 8

Andrew Koenig

Majel Barrett Roddenberry

George Takei Statement on William Shatner

Marriage Equality Comes to California

You Gotta Have Friends

George Takei on Casting of John Cho as Sulu

Second Wind

George's Statement on the Star Trek Feature Daily Variety Story

The Forty-Year Trek

Why Howard Stern?

January, 2006
The Year of Equus

Tribute to Pat Morita

November, 2005
Equality and Justice For All

Tribute to Jimmy

May, 2005
Catfish, Scholars, and a Geisha Party

April, 2005
Two Surprising Gifts

March, 2005
Measuring TV Viewers

February, 2005
Oscars: the Luckiest of the Best

January, 2005
New York, New York

December, 2004
Tsunami of Compassion

November, 2004
An Emperor, Abe Lincoln, and Four Presidents

October, 2004
Fund-raising with fun raising

September, 2004
Life Interrupted

August, 2004
Celebrating Three Legends

July, 2004
Dense Enrichment

June, 2004
Seattle: The Crucible of Imagination

May, 2004
High Times Down Under

April, 2004
Trekkin' in Japan

March, 2004
An Actor's New York

February, 2004
They Call Her Osama

January, 2004
Caribbean Seatrek

December, 2003
My Arkansas Roots

November, 2003
A Month of Glory and Fury

October, 2003
Jet Lag Reminiscences

September, 2003
Supporters and Whoopee!

August, 2003
Beaming Back in Time

July, 2003
Hawaii, Chicago, Tulsa and Kiribati

June, 2003
A Salute to Liberty

May, 2003
Renewal and Nurturing

April, 2003
The Human Spirit

March, 2003
An Anglophile Angeleno

February, 2003
NASA Must Rise Again

January, 2003
A Shiny Double Bow

December, 2002
Holiday Reflections

November, 2002
"Omiyage" Gifts from Japan

October, 2002
Historic Travels

September, 2002
Oscar-Winning Movies

August, 2002
Summer Visitors

July, 2002
Mama's "Pacific Overtures"

June, 2002
Fumiko Emily Takei, 1912 - 2002

May, 2002
Flight of Angels

April, 2002
Surviving a Texas Storm

March, 2002
Hooray for Hollywood; Boo on Secession

February, 2002
Sacramento Roots

January, 2002
Bearing Witness

December, 2001
A Hundred Million Miracles

November, 2001
Serendipitous London

October, 2001
The Aftermath

September 11, 2001
A Special Message

September, 2001
Summertime at the Hollywood Bowl

August, 2001
Voice Transporter

July, 2001
Two American Monuments

June, 2001
Luck Be a Lady

May, 2001
A Global Banquet Table

April, 2001
Joy and Disappointment

March, 2001
Two Guys Named David

February, 2001
Wisdom from a Volcano

January, 2001
Millennial London

December, 2000
Japan - From the Past to the Cutting Edge

November, 2000
Counting My Blessings

October, 2000
The Mother of an Actor

September, 2000
Hanover Expo 2000

August, 2000
Rockin' in the Northwest

July, 2000
Global Interchange

June, 2000
Sky High Challenge

May, 2000
A Month of Theater

April, 2000
Excelsior Passion

March, 2000
Alien World Right Below

February, 2000
Hawaii Connections

January, 2000
A New Beginning

December, 1999
Millennium Musings

November, 1999
Power of Ingenuity

October, 1999
Back to a Diverse Future

September, 1999
Our Human Linkage

August, 1999
Equatorial Launch to the Stars

July, 1999
Celebration of Diversity

The Official Website of George Takei is Copyright Hosato Enterprises, Inc. 1999-2015 All Rights Reserved