Diane Matyas

This small construction/painting was made to honor the 66 restaurant staff members who...

• woke early

• rode the train

• took elevator past the point where their ears popped

• laughed with their fellow workers

• filled the coffee urns

• folded napkins

• sliced melons

• arranged the warmed croissants

• filled the butter and the raspberry jam crocks

• checked each glass

...making sure it was a perfect day.

On September 11th 2001, I saw the towers burn standing from Staten Island, atop Wall Street in St. George. Then I watched two years of funerals march by.

Even so, I still recall with excitement the panorama of

the 107th floor of the Windows on the World restaurant. The orange velour seats, sunken dining room sections, and huge glass walls. My proud father joined as a lunch member in order to conduct business as an out-of-towner. He pointed out the delicate squashball-sized, gold-dipped ceramic ornamental spheres that epitomized the halcyon 1970s and outrageous 80s. As his guest, I greedily ate venison, red raspberries with vanilla sauce, and when of age, a glass of wine.

The modernist space abided, though dated, through the 1990s. It was marvelous and a bit goofy—but at the same time­—I never imagined it would disappear...