When most people think about September 11, their immediate thoughts veer towards the image of two massive towers crumbling to the earth as smoke and debris thunder down Manhattan streets. It's usually a singular image in our minds that correlates to an event such as September 11, the Kennedy assassination or the Holocaust. As outsiders viewing such events on television, we as the general public aren't left with much more than these very images to remember what happened. As I began to tour the Anne Frank Haus, the Holocaust began to take on a new shape and even a face. As I stood in the actual room that Anne slept in; seeing the wheat pasted magazine pages of her favorite 1940's Hollywood stars and then her father Otto's pencil marks on the wall noting Anne's growth, I started to become emotionally involved in the Holocaust. Her handwritten pages were encased in glass for all to read. Letters to the family from the Nazis asking them to report to Centraal Station (the local train station) with only a few belongings in hand made me feel as though the letter was addressed to me. These artifacts, photos and videos began to help me understand what really happened as Hitler took power and tried to conquer Europe . With each room that I entered and each artifact that came into view, I began to care more and more about Anne and her family. By the end of the tour, I had a deeper understanding of what transpired during that turbulent period in world history. In the very last room, there was a video interview with Mep Gies, the woman who hid the Frank family in the secret attic. It was in this interview that Ms. Gies explained through accounts from a Red Cross worker in the death camp that Anne most likely died of a broken heart; she lost the will to live when she found out her sister and mother had been killed in the gas chambers. I immediately went back and read more of her journal entries and thought about what a tragic loss this was. Such a special young woman she was -- full of life, hopes and dreams, just as so many 9/11 victims were.

I couldn't believe Anne was gone; I had grown close to her in those two hours as I learned all about her through her journal entries, photos and artifacts. She had become a "friend" in a way and I was feeling such sorrow for her untimely death. It dawned on me that are six million more stories of victims from the Holocaust. Stories I will never even know and lives snuffed out well before their time. Now, the impact of the Holocaust really hit home for me. I was at a loss when I left the Museum, walking dumbstruck through Dam Square and back towards the hotel. I was somewhat surprised at how I was reacting to this experience but then again, it was new. The enormity of World War 2, the sickness of Hitler and the tremendous loss became evident for me in just two hours of bonding with the story of just one little girl. I sat down on my hotel bed and was quite choked up but continued to hold it all in. I flipped on the television in the hopes it would take me out of my reactive mind and cheer me up. Instead of allowing myself to feel the pain of that day, I chose instead to ignore that pain and pretend I was okay. CNN, the only channel in a language that I understood, immediately popped on with breaking world news: Russian terrorists had just blown up a school in the countryside and many school children who had been held hostage were now dead. That was the final straw for me as I broke down and wept, sitting on the side of the bed with tissues in hand. As I wept, I said out loud, Why am I crying? What's wrong with you, Marlon? It didn't take me long to realize I was actually human, complete with feelings and empathy for others. I was crying because I felt sorrow that there could be such evil that exists in the world; that anti-socials like Hitler, the Russian terrorists and Osama Bin Laden are out there and live for one thing: to kill and terrorize the social world and everything that stands for goodness, freedom and constructive action. Working at Ground Zero for as long as I did, I became selfish in an odd sort of way. I believed we were the only ones to suffer terrorism but boy, was I wrong. Seeing Anne Frank Haus and then flipping on CNN that same day, I realized terrorism is a world problem and has been around for quite a long time. It was only a matter of time before it hit home: our home. I left Holland with a greater understanding of World War 2, the Holocaust and why so many Americans and soldiers from other countries spilled their blood to fight terrorism and a madman.

Back in New York, I went to my storage facility on a Sunday afternoon to retrieve some items but before I left, something caught my eye. It was a plastic box of "remnants" from Ground Zero, (The word "artifacts" is often used when describing what should really be deemed as remnants, since a remnant is "a part of something that remains after the rest is gone") some of which I had retained from Ground Zero during the Recovery. The plastic box contained an odd assortment of items, some of which I had retrieved from the transfer station just on the outskirts of the Ground Zero site and some from around the WTC site. I had been standing in the transfer station one day (the transfer station was the last stop for the rubble before heading off to Fresh Kills landfill for a final rake-through) speaking with a fire lieutenant when I saw a muddy cell phone in the dirt. I commented to him that an item such as this made me wonder who had used that phone last? It just got me thinking deeper about all the many people who had passed away. He remarked that if I was that moved by the phone, I should look in the large refuse container just behind us and I'd find many more assorted items ("remnants") that would hit home for me. Sure enough, behind us was a refuse container and next to it and inside it was NOT what the average person would deem "garbage." That would be an inappropriate & disrespectful word. No, I saw remnants of another period; remnants that might one day be appreciated and speak volumes to its viewers. The items did in fact hit home for me because I knew someone perhaps once owned them; they meant something to someone who had once lived on this earth, whether it was a screwdriver or a baseball mitt and they represented the humanity that existed up high in those beautiful towers. There were shoes scattered about, also. In general, we didn't know if shoes that were found belonged to victims or were from the many shoe stores that once existed in the shopping concourse areas. What was important is what they represented. Shoes were regularly discarded unless special circumstances existed that led us to believe they should be saved & given to the coroner's office. Near the refuse container, sitting in a pile of items to be discarded was a muddy pay phone receiver and I wondered who used that phone last and whom did they call? Then, I saw a muddy doll from the gift shop of the WTC Observation Deck, a shattered make-up case and a woman's broken business shoe, which I photographed. How could these items be discarded? I thought that perhaps one day the items might be put to good use in a museum or add some effect to my images. I often photographed the remnants. Perhaps they would help people connect to what happened? I would collect on several occasions assorted remnants and then show them to and ask permission of a Chief or other fire officer as to if I could retain them (they always said "yes") and then eventually brought them to storage. I chose to store everything; I wanted them out of my sight. I needed to heal and having them around was no way to accomplish this.

There I was, years later, standing in my storage room. I had long since forgotten about those "remnants". Three years had now passed and I felt much better emotionally, so I opened the clear, plastic box and was amazed to see the vast assortment of things I had salvaged from being tossed out forever. Each one had meaning in its own right. My Ground Zero Recovery photography collection was also collecting dust, along with the remnants, and this is when I began wondering about what I could do. If Anne Frank Haus had moved me in such a special way, could my images, labeled by the Times as "Rare Photos", also move people? FOX News Channel compared my collection to Matthew Brady's Civil War collection-so why was I denying it from the public? What could I do to make a difference? I wondered, "..am I not doing the right thing here by letting this all collect dust?"

So, I stood there in my storage room looking at the "remnants" and became perplexed as to how I could utilize them in a productive manner. Granted, I have always been noted and acknowledged by many 9/11 family members and my peers in the Fire Department for my sensitivity to the way I portrayed through my images the bravery of the recovery workers and the events of 9/11, so I wasn't too worried about having anyone misconstrue and misrepresent my true intentions for displaying my photograpghs and the remnants. In four years of press/media on my work, I was always acknowledged for my sensitive work. However, there's always a sour grape in every bunch of sweet ones no matter what arena and these anti-social personalities love to "destroy in the name of help." Nevertheless, I decided to hold off on a decision as to what to, choosing instead to speak with many family members & FDNY members on their opinions. The consensus from everyone I spoke to was to open a mini-museum, a workshop of sorts, and allow people to visit while at the same time raising money for worthwhile charities. It sounded like a great idea, so I chose a loft in the Meat Packing District of Manhattan and began to convert it into a beautiful place for tourists, family members and locals alike to visit; to enter a time capsule that travels past the security gates and down into the muddy confines of Ground Zero, circa 2001-2002. In the film, Field of Dreams, a ghost said to Kevin Costner, "Build it and they will come." Well, no ghost spoke to me-but Ground Zero Museum Workshop is now a reality and if people want to visit, they will, and if they don't, that's their choice. We all heal in our own time and there's no stopwatch or schedule on pain; People will deal with their feelings from that fateful day of September 11 on their own schedule and terms.

At Ground Zero Museum Workshop, you will see striking photographic images, artifacts from the recovery that tell a story, items worn by recovery workers, actual tools that were used to dig with and rare, video footage from inside the WTC site displayed on large screen and in surround sound. It is a small space; no more than 25 people per 90 minute tour allowed, but it packs a very strong emotional wallop. The Workshop will also host group tours of all types, including a one-hour discussion/presentation with Q & A.