May 20, 2002, Associated Press, "Missing from World Trade Center rubble: a Rodin masterpiece, 'The Thinker,'" by Tom Hays, Reposted at: http://www.museum-security.org/02/063.html
Also found at http://www.highbeam.com/doc/1P1-53104975.html under title: "'Thinker' Missing From WTC Rubble,"
NEW YORK (AP) -- Auguste Rodin's "The Thinker" -- once a pensive fixture on the 105th floor of the World Trade Center -- has given investigators something to puzzle over. A 28-inch bronze cast of Rodin's most famous work fell to earth after terrorists slammed a jetliner into the north tower on Sept. 11. It turned up in the debris along with assorted remnants of other Rodins displayed in the offices of Cantor Fitzgerald bond trading firm. But the 19th century sculpture later disappeared, raising suspicions it was stolen. The city Department of Investigation refused to discuss reports that it is on the trail of "The Thinker." But a law enforcement official confirmed Monday that the piece apparently vanished after being recovered by a firefighter. The firefighter was questioned about a photograph of him posing with the sculpture, said the official, who spoke on condition of anonymity. The firefighter claimed he last saw it on Dec. 6 at the Fire Department's temporary headquarters at the disaster site. A call to a Fire Department spokesman was not immediately returned.
While still rare, several dozen casts of "The Thinker" are held by museums and private collectors around the world. Rodin often made a number of casts of his works for patrons, and the Musee Rodin in Paris has authorized limited castings of certain works. Cantor Fitzgerald representatives have declined to discuss the fate or value of the firm's art collection.
The firm lost 658 of its 960 World Trade Center employees in the attack. "The Thinker" -- whose disappearance was first reported earlier this month by The New York Post -- came from the Rodin collection of B. Gerald Cantor, once the world's largest. Cantor, who died in 1996, donated most of the works to museums and galleries, but left some on display in the lobby of Cantor Fitzgerald.
After Sept. 11, parts of some of the sculptures surfaced during the massive recovery effort in lower Manhattan. A bust from "The Burghers of Calais," and two headless figures from "The Three Shades" remain in FBI custody at Fresh Kills Landfill on Staten Island, where investigators have sifted through the rubble for human remains and criminal evidence.
TOM HAYS, Associated Press Writer. "Missing from World Trade Center rubble: a Rodin masterpiece, 'The Thinker'." AP Worldstream. 2002. HighBeam Research. 6 Jul. 2010 <http://www.highbeam.com>.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
"WTC Art Plunder Eyed," by Philip Messing,
May 11, 2002, New York Post, "WTC Art Plunder Eyed," by Philip Messing, [Reposted at
http://www.museum-security.org/02/060.html ]
May 11, 2002 -- A portion of Rodin's "The Three Shades" (right) was found in the trade center rubble (above). One of his artworks - part of a collection at Cantor Fitzgerald - may have been stolen at the landfill. City Department of Investigation probers are pondering the possible theft of a statue by French sculptor Auguste Rodin from the rubble of the World Trade Center, The Post has learned. Securities firm Cantor Fitzgerald's offices high in the World Trade Center's south tower housed hundreds of works by Rodin - who's probably best known for "The Thinker." In recent days, DOI investigators have been showing workers at the Fresh Kills Landfill a photograph of a Rodin statue that was part of the Cantor Fitzgerald collection, sources familiar with the probe said. The agency hopes to determine if the statue somehow survived the terror attacks - only to be pilfered from the landfill by a city worker.
"As far as we are concerned, the collection is a total loss," said Christiane Fisher, a spokeswoman for Axa, the French-based company that insured the Rodins.
Carol Strickland, a spokeswoman for DOI, offered a terse "no comment" when asked about the probe, as did Julie Horn, a spokeswoman for Cantor Fitzgerald.
But a Cantor source confirmed DOI did show Fresh Kills workers a photo of the Rodin sculpture to determine if it had been removed from the trade center rubble. "Your information is good," said the source.
B. Gerald Cantor, one of Cantor Fitzgerald's founders, amassed one of the world's largest Rodin collections. The charitable foundation set up in his name says Cantor and his wife donated many of the works to museums and galleries around the world.
About $5 million worth of Rodin art remained in the company's headquarters on Sept. 11, said Axa's Fisher. A number of NYPD Internal Affairs Bureau detectives have been recruited into the Department of Investigation's probe, said a senior-level police official. "This is all very recent," said the source.
"From what I understand, they're not looking at any of our guys - they are looking at the possibility that it was a firefighter who took it." But a Fire Department spokesman said the department was unaware of the investigation. The senior police source cautioned it's possible someone took the Rodin statue from the dump without knowing its value. For months, investigators at Fresh Kills have been sifting the World Trade Center rubble, which is considered evidence of a crime.
http://www.nypost.com/
http://www.museum-security.org/02/060.html ]
May 11, 2002 -- A portion of Rodin's "The Three Shades" (right) was found in the trade center rubble (above). One of his artworks - part of a collection at Cantor Fitzgerald - may have been stolen at the landfill. City Department of Investigation probers are pondering the possible theft of a statue by French sculptor Auguste Rodin from the rubble of the World Trade Center, The Post has learned. Securities firm Cantor Fitzgerald's offices high in the World Trade Center's south tower housed hundreds of works by Rodin - who's probably best known for "The Thinker." In recent days, DOI investigators have been showing workers at the Fresh Kills Landfill a photograph of a Rodin statue that was part of the Cantor Fitzgerald collection, sources familiar with the probe said. The agency hopes to determine if the statue somehow survived the terror attacks - only to be pilfered from the landfill by a city worker.
"As far as we are concerned, the collection is a total loss," said Christiane Fisher, a spokeswoman for Axa, the French-based company that insured the Rodins.
Carol Strickland, a spokeswoman for DOI, offered a terse "no comment" when asked about the probe, as did Julie Horn, a spokeswoman for Cantor Fitzgerald.
But a Cantor source confirmed DOI did show Fresh Kills workers a photo of the Rodin sculpture to determine if it had been removed from the trade center rubble. "Your information is good," said the source.
B. Gerald Cantor, one of Cantor Fitzgerald's founders, amassed one of the world's largest Rodin collections. The charitable foundation set up in his name says Cantor and his wife donated many of the works to museums and galleries around the world.
About $5 million worth of Rodin art remained in the company's headquarters on Sept. 11, said Axa's Fisher. A number of NYPD Internal Affairs Bureau detectives have been recruited into the Department of Investigation's probe, said a senior-level police official. "This is all very recent," said the source.
"From what I understand, they're not looking at any of our guys - they are looking at the possibility that it was a firefighter who took it." But a Fire Department spokesman said the department was unaware of the investigation. The senior police source cautioned it's possible someone took the Rodin statue from the dump without knowing its value. For months, investigators at Fresh Kills have been sifting the World Trade Center rubble, which is considered evidence of a crime.
http://www.nypost.com/
"Picking up the pieces," by Rhiannon Batten,
March 9, 2002, The Scotsman, "Picking up the pieces," by Rhiannon Batten,
Your house is burning down - what do you save? Photographs? Your grandmother's china? The answer is that you just don't know. In the end we went by instinct," says architect Bart Voorsanger, looking out across a desolate graveyard of scorched, crushed metal. But the salvage operation he is talking about didn't involve many photographs or family heirlooms. His firm, Voorsanger & Mills, was appointed to archive debris from the collapsed World Trade Centre and the objects he collected include a row of chained-up bicycles, battered fire trucks, splinters from what was once the city's tallest television antenna and the crushed shell of a train which used to run beneath the Centre. "The level of destruction from the collapse of these 110- storey towers was something I'd never witnessed before," he says, quietly.
The Port Authority, which owns the land on which the World Trade Centre was built, was struggling with its options after 11 September. "Some of the leaseholders were saying 'build, build, build' but the public was mostly saying 'stop, stop, stop'," explains Voorsanger. "In response, the governor formed the Lower Manhattan Development Corporation to take charge of the site and, two weeks after the attacks, I was approached to form a small committee to save artefacts from the site."
The reason Voorsanger, rather than a curator, was chosen to head the project was that architecture had been such a key component of the site. But although it was hoped the collected material could later be used to construct a memorial, Voorsanger was adamant that they called what they were doing archiving. "A memorial seemed to place too much emphasis on the emotional side of things," he says. "The artefacts we found covered a whole panoply of items, from individual coffee cups to a burning steel facade. As well as forming a picture of everyday life on the site, we wanted to make sure we had a record of the materials used to build each of the towers and that we were documenting their collapse."
So while Ground Zero, as a crime site, was closed off to all but emergency workers and clearance personnel, Voorsanger's committee was granted special access. Searching for finds and marking them down on a map, the archiving team spent about eight weeks on the site.
Fragments of Alexander Calder's abstract sculpture Stabile, which had originally stood in the offices of brokers Cantor Fitzgerald, were found, along with one of Rodin's The Three Shades, albeit broken. (Apparently over $100 million worth of art was lost in the attacks.) And parts of the American Airlines plane which crashed into the north tower were tracked down. But perhaps the most symbolic of all the finds is an enormous section of the north tower's facade, now kept enveloped from the elements in protective white plastic.
Storing all these artifacts is the next big problem. Until a proper warehouse is found, everything the committee has salvaged is being held at various New Jersey scrapyards, on vacant stretches of tarmac at Kennedy Airport and at the sourly named Fresh Kills landfill site on Staten Island. While the archivists try to decide what to retain - and what the 150 or so museums, artists and academics that have so far put in requests should be given - the FBI sifts through the objects for evidence and the debate goes on as to who actually owns what.
The city, insurers, tenants and the relatives of those killed in the attacks may all have fair claims but, for the time being, all the material belongs to the insurance companies (although they have ceded ownership, in most cases, to the Port Authority). "It's an extremely emotional issue," says Voorsanger, with a sigh, "and it's one that, eventually, lawyers will have to decide. We need to make sure that we're conscientious about this so we'll set up a procedure for dealing with all these requests before we actually release anything."
It is an issue that has become even more significant since it was discovered that 'souvenir' items (such as a pair of dust-caked boots and a "genuine office key") from Ground Zero were being lucratively traded over the internet site ebay.
But one item that Voorsanger isn't even letting out of his office until proper storage is found is a 1969 copy of the New York Times. Its front cover announces both the retirement of Chief Justice Earl Warren and the death of Judy Garland. "When they built the steel perimeter walls, they built in box columns that, when bolted together, had a space in the middle. As a parting shot, the builders would throw in a beer can or something and the spaces became time capsules. It was from one of these that we found the paper," explains Voorsanger.
Like many of those involved in the curating, Voorsanger witnessed the attacks first-hand. And, as he tells me about the artifacts and about the days he spent searching for them on site, his voice thickens with emotion. "At first I went down to Ground Zero every day or every other day, along with other people from my office" he says. "The emergency workers were hostile to us initially - they imagined we were just scavenging. But once they understood what we were trying to do they started helping us, looking out for anything they thought we might want."
For some, the archiving project has helped them to come to terms with what happened. "I was in my office when the towers were struck," confides Voorsanger. "When I saw them collapse, I understood immediately what had happened. Going down to the site afterwards was unbelievably grim - to your right would be firefighters searching for body parts and to your left would be relatives in tears. Everywhere there was so much smoke. There were moments when I'd walk down there and just feel numb but I suppose, at one level, it's made it easier to internalise the level of the destruction. It feels like I've been running an emotional marathon. I haven't crossed the finish line to this day and I still don't know where the end is. How do we resolve this?"
It's a question many are asking. A memorial would seem to be a good start but this is likely to be a long time in the planning. Bowing to public pressure, the LMDC have decided to build an interim memorial, installing the remains of Fritz Koenig's Sphere, the bronze sculpture which was once the centrepiece of the World Trade Center plaza (and one of Voorsanger's finds), on an adjacent site. As for a permanent memorial, Voorsanger says they need to work out what will resonate with people five or 10 years down the line.
The real difficulty stems from how you view the site. "At one end of the spectrum it's a funeral pyre and at the other it's a development site," he explains. "What is done with the site and the archive is going to be a long process but I don't see that as unhealthy. People need to get some distance from these events. When you're thinking about a memorial, for the families it's all about emotional closure, but for future generations the most brilliant thing you can do is ensure that it doesn't bring closure. It revives the events so that, years later, people will still understand what happened here."
With an eight-and-a-half-acre site to design around, there are infinite ways of resolving these questions. Voorsanger believes there are three things the Port Authority should remember when it starts drawing up plans.
"Firstly, we have to honour the people who died. Then, I'd also hope we could achieve a design solution that's totally brilliant. And, thirdly, we need to heal the skyline. The towers were an iconic part of that and I'm not sure how to do it, but I think it needs to be done."
RHIANNON BATTEN. "Picking up the pieces." The Scotsman. 2002. HighBeam Research. (October 3, 2010). http://www.highbeam.com/doc/1P2-12975311.html
Your house is burning down - what do you save? Photographs? Your grandmother's china? The answer is that you just don't know. In the end we went by instinct," says architect Bart Voorsanger, looking out across a desolate graveyard of scorched, crushed metal. But the salvage operation he is talking about didn't involve many photographs or family heirlooms. His firm, Voorsanger & Mills, was appointed to archive debris from the collapsed World Trade Centre and the objects he collected include a row of chained-up bicycles, battered fire trucks, splinters from what was once the city's tallest television antenna and the crushed shell of a train which used to run beneath the Centre. "The level of destruction from the collapse of these 110- storey towers was something I'd never witnessed before," he says, quietly.
The Port Authority, which owns the land on which the World Trade Centre was built, was struggling with its options after 11 September. "Some of the leaseholders were saying 'build, build, build' but the public was mostly saying 'stop, stop, stop'," explains Voorsanger. "In response, the governor formed the Lower Manhattan Development Corporation to take charge of the site and, two weeks after the attacks, I was approached to form a small committee to save artefacts from the site."
The reason Voorsanger, rather than a curator, was chosen to head the project was that architecture had been such a key component of the site. But although it was hoped the collected material could later be used to construct a memorial, Voorsanger was adamant that they called what they were doing archiving. "A memorial seemed to place too much emphasis on the emotional side of things," he says. "The artefacts we found covered a whole panoply of items, from individual coffee cups to a burning steel facade. As well as forming a picture of everyday life on the site, we wanted to make sure we had a record of the materials used to build each of the towers and that we were documenting their collapse."
So while Ground Zero, as a crime site, was closed off to all but emergency workers and clearance personnel, Voorsanger's committee was granted special access. Searching for finds and marking them down on a map, the archiving team spent about eight weeks on the site.
Fragments of Alexander Calder's abstract sculpture Stabile, which had originally stood in the offices of brokers Cantor Fitzgerald, were found, along with one of Rodin's The Three Shades, albeit broken. (Apparently over $100 million worth of art was lost in the attacks.) And parts of the American Airlines plane which crashed into the north tower were tracked down. But perhaps the most symbolic of all the finds is an enormous section of the north tower's facade, now kept enveloped from the elements in protective white plastic.
Storing all these artifacts is the next big problem. Until a proper warehouse is found, everything the committee has salvaged is being held at various New Jersey scrapyards, on vacant stretches of tarmac at Kennedy Airport and at the sourly named Fresh Kills landfill site on Staten Island. While the archivists try to decide what to retain - and what the 150 or so museums, artists and academics that have so far put in requests should be given - the FBI sifts through the objects for evidence and the debate goes on as to who actually owns what.
The city, insurers, tenants and the relatives of those killed in the attacks may all have fair claims but, for the time being, all the material belongs to the insurance companies (although they have ceded ownership, in most cases, to the Port Authority). "It's an extremely emotional issue," says Voorsanger, with a sigh, "and it's one that, eventually, lawyers will have to decide. We need to make sure that we're conscientious about this so we'll set up a procedure for dealing with all these requests before we actually release anything."
It is an issue that has become even more significant since it was discovered that 'souvenir' items (such as a pair of dust-caked boots and a "genuine office key") from Ground Zero were being lucratively traded over the internet site ebay.
But one item that Voorsanger isn't even letting out of his office until proper storage is found is a 1969 copy of the New York Times. Its front cover announces both the retirement of Chief Justice Earl Warren and the death of Judy Garland. "When they built the steel perimeter walls, they built in box columns that, when bolted together, had a space in the middle. As a parting shot, the builders would throw in a beer can or something and the spaces became time capsules. It was from one of these that we found the paper," explains Voorsanger.
Like many of those involved in the curating, Voorsanger witnessed the attacks first-hand. And, as he tells me about the artifacts and about the days he spent searching for them on site, his voice thickens with emotion. "At first I went down to Ground Zero every day or every other day, along with other people from my office" he says. "The emergency workers were hostile to us initially - they imagined we were just scavenging. But once they understood what we were trying to do they started helping us, looking out for anything they thought we might want."
For some, the archiving project has helped them to come to terms with what happened. "I was in my office when the towers were struck," confides Voorsanger. "When I saw them collapse, I understood immediately what had happened. Going down to the site afterwards was unbelievably grim - to your right would be firefighters searching for body parts and to your left would be relatives in tears. Everywhere there was so much smoke. There were moments when I'd walk down there and just feel numb but I suppose, at one level, it's made it easier to internalise the level of the destruction. It feels like I've been running an emotional marathon. I haven't crossed the finish line to this day and I still don't know where the end is. How do we resolve this?"
It's a question many are asking. A memorial would seem to be a good start but this is likely to be a long time in the planning. Bowing to public pressure, the LMDC have decided to build an interim memorial, installing the remains of Fritz Koenig's Sphere, the bronze sculpture which was once the centrepiece of the World Trade Center plaza (and one of Voorsanger's finds), on an adjacent site. As for a permanent memorial, Voorsanger says they need to work out what will resonate with people five or 10 years down the line.
The real difficulty stems from how you view the site. "At one end of the spectrum it's a funeral pyre and at the other it's a development site," he explains. "What is done with the site and the archive is going to be a long process but I don't see that as unhealthy. People need to get some distance from these events. When you're thinking about a memorial, for the families it's all about emotional closure, but for future generations the most brilliant thing you can do is ensure that it doesn't bring closure. It revives the events so that, years later, people will still understand what happened here."
With an eight-and-a-half-acre site to design around, there are infinite ways of resolving these questions. Voorsanger believes there are three things the Port Authority should remember when it starts drawing up plans.
"Firstly, we have to honour the people who died. Then, I'd also hope we could achieve a design solution that's totally brilliant. And, thirdly, we need to heal the skyline. The towers were an iconic part of that and I'm not sure how to do it, but I think it needs to be done."
RHIANNON BATTEN. "Picking up the pieces." The Scotsman. 2002. HighBeam Research. (October 3, 2010). http://www.highbeam.com/doc/1P2-12975311.html
"Aanslagen Amerika 11 september: Foto's van het puin,"
October 31, 2003, "Aanslagen Amerika 11 september: Foto's van het puin,"
"Letter From America.(touring Fresh Kills landfill in Staten Island where World Trade Center debris is being moved," By Julie Scelfo,
January 28, 2002, Newsweek International, "Letter From America.(touring Fresh Kills landfill in Staten Island where World Trade Center debris is being moved," By Julie Scelfo,
The first thing I notice is the smell. It isn't just the caustic scent of burnt steel and jet fuel, familiar from the World Trade Center. It's something human, the odor of death. The next things I notice are the mountains of gray dirt, stretching as far as I can see. A crane scoops from a pile and spreads it out; FBI agents swarm over it with shovels. These aren't mere piles of dirt at all. They are the pulverized remains of the Twin Towers and all that was inside.
Buried in the heaps of rubble is the story of that day--September 11. There are watches that still tick, telling the time. Others do not, like one stopped eerily at 10:08, the moment its wearer's life ended. There are passports, driver's licenses, bracelets, rings, wallets, guns and the broken bronze torso of a man, with no head or feet. It's a Rodin sculpture once on display at Cantor Fitzgerald, the firm that lost hundreds of employees in the tragedy. It lies now on its side, not far from a pile of airplane parts, muddied and weirdly vulnerable, unnervingly human. The detritus of all these lives is overwhelming. Fighting disbelief, I take a deep breath.
It is cold and raining as I begin my tour of the Fresh Kills landfill in Staten Island, the place that's now home to more of the World Trade Center's remains than lower Manhattan. Wreckage from Ground Zero is excavated and brought here to be sorted through and eventually buried. I was one of thousands of people who watched the buildings collapse from just a few blocks away. Now, exactly four months later, here I am watching huge cranes feed their remnants into giant red boxes, called shakers, which separate small pieces from larger chunks. The loud rumble of demolition machinery permeates the air. Front-end loaders scoop pieces from the shakers and dump them into a giant sifting machine. Conveyor belts carry the fragments past law-enforcement agents, who are bending over, hunting for human artifacts. I stand beside them, hoping to pick out a body part, perhaps, or something that might give someone, anyone, a sign of a lost father or wife, lover or son or daughter. But everything that passes by is that same ash gray color, that same chunky dust. However intently I stare, I cannot tell whether I am looking at a rock or a piece of a building or a door hinge or a human bone.
My guide to this netherworld is Richard Marx, an FBI agent from Philadelphia who has been at Fresh Kills almost every day since Sept. 12, building this city of workers and machines to sort the 650 tons of debris that arrive daily by barge, more than a million tons so far. His walnut-colored eyes are glassed with the by-now-familiar look of a person in shock. I can tell instantly that he has seen things at Fresh Kills no person should have to see. We drive through the mazelike streets of the landfill. Gigantic Payhaulers, eight wheels apiece, pass us bearing loads removed from the day's first barge. They turn left at the top of a hill and when I get there I see why. It is a city of the dead, ringed with huge tent-like structures where workers are outfitted with protective suits and respirators. There's a mess hall, toilets and a dozen or so trailers used by federal agencies and the New York Police Department, some of them to decontaminate evidence found at the site.
We get out of the truck. Heaps of mangled metal rise 15 feet in the air. Long rods are torqued into tiny shapes; thick steel beams lie around with their ends frayed into thin, wiry strips. Stacked nearby are these giant metal wheels--engines from the elevators inside the WTC, says Marx. I find someone's shoe, with the sole ripped off, completely coated in gray.
Not all the debris can fit on the conveyor belts. In a muddy field beyond the sifting machines, cars crushed like tin cans are stacked up four or five high, too many to count, but according to the FBI there's more than twelve hundred. A row of burned, mangled fire trucks stretches at least the length of a city block. At the end of the row lies a crushed car. Its roof has been stripped away. The back seats are gone. Hunks of building sit on what remains of the two front seats. The car radio, flattened to the size of a floppy disk, lies amid shards of broken glass. I can tell the car once was white, with streaks of yellow and blue. I trace a blue stripe along its crumpled body to where I spot the word police.
We drive to the top of the biggest mountain of debris, 40 feet high. Looking down I see all the cranes at work in an area nicknamed 42d Street, after one of Manhattan's busiest thoroughfares. This, too, was once nothing but an empty field. Now it's an efficient factory that produces tiny mounds of death. The rain finally relents. Clouds shift and I glimpse the city in the distance, where the towers used to mark the skyline. I glance down at my feet and notice a red speck the size of a stamp. Marx pulls on it and slowly more red comes out of the ground, until he holds an entire flannel shirt. It has orange squares in a plaid design. Some of the bottom buttons are still closed. I can't help but wonder, what happened to the man who had worn it? Looking into Marx's eyes, I know.
Scelfo, Julie. "Letter From America.(touring Fresh Kills landfill in Staten Island where World Trade Center debris is being moved)(Brief Article)." Newsweek International. 2002. HighBeam Research. (October 3, 2010). http://www.highbeam.com/doc/1G1-82103533.html
The first thing I notice is the smell. It isn't just the caustic scent of burnt steel and jet fuel, familiar from the World Trade Center. It's something human, the odor of death. The next things I notice are the mountains of gray dirt, stretching as far as I can see. A crane scoops from a pile and spreads it out; FBI agents swarm over it with shovels. These aren't mere piles of dirt at all. They are the pulverized remains of the Twin Towers and all that was inside.
Buried in the heaps of rubble is the story of that day--September 11. There are watches that still tick, telling the time. Others do not, like one stopped eerily at 10:08, the moment its wearer's life ended. There are passports, driver's licenses, bracelets, rings, wallets, guns and the broken bronze torso of a man, with no head or feet. It's a Rodin sculpture once on display at Cantor Fitzgerald, the firm that lost hundreds of employees in the tragedy. It lies now on its side, not far from a pile of airplane parts, muddied and weirdly vulnerable, unnervingly human. The detritus of all these lives is overwhelming. Fighting disbelief, I take a deep breath.
It is cold and raining as I begin my tour of the Fresh Kills landfill in Staten Island, the place that's now home to more of the World Trade Center's remains than lower Manhattan. Wreckage from Ground Zero is excavated and brought here to be sorted through and eventually buried. I was one of thousands of people who watched the buildings collapse from just a few blocks away. Now, exactly four months later, here I am watching huge cranes feed their remnants into giant red boxes, called shakers, which separate small pieces from larger chunks. The loud rumble of demolition machinery permeates the air. Front-end loaders scoop pieces from the shakers and dump them into a giant sifting machine. Conveyor belts carry the fragments past law-enforcement agents, who are bending over, hunting for human artifacts. I stand beside them, hoping to pick out a body part, perhaps, or something that might give someone, anyone, a sign of a lost father or wife, lover or son or daughter. But everything that passes by is that same ash gray color, that same chunky dust. However intently I stare, I cannot tell whether I am looking at a rock or a piece of a building or a door hinge or a human bone.
My guide to this netherworld is Richard Marx, an FBI agent from Philadelphia who has been at Fresh Kills almost every day since Sept. 12, building this city of workers and machines to sort the 650 tons of debris that arrive daily by barge, more than a million tons so far. His walnut-colored eyes are glassed with the by-now-familiar look of a person in shock. I can tell instantly that he has seen things at Fresh Kills no person should have to see. We drive through the mazelike streets of the landfill. Gigantic Payhaulers, eight wheels apiece, pass us bearing loads removed from the day's first barge. They turn left at the top of a hill and when I get there I see why. It is a city of the dead, ringed with huge tent-like structures where workers are outfitted with protective suits and respirators. There's a mess hall, toilets and a dozen or so trailers used by federal agencies and the New York Police Department, some of them to decontaminate evidence found at the site.
We get out of the truck. Heaps of mangled metal rise 15 feet in the air. Long rods are torqued into tiny shapes; thick steel beams lie around with their ends frayed into thin, wiry strips. Stacked nearby are these giant metal wheels--engines from the elevators inside the WTC, says Marx. I find someone's shoe, with the sole ripped off, completely coated in gray.
Not all the debris can fit on the conveyor belts. In a muddy field beyond the sifting machines, cars crushed like tin cans are stacked up four or five high, too many to count, but according to the FBI there's more than twelve hundred. A row of burned, mangled fire trucks stretches at least the length of a city block. At the end of the row lies a crushed car. Its roof has been stripped away. The back seats are gone. Hunks of building sit on what remains of the two front seats. The car radio, flattened to the size of a floppy disk, lies amid shards of broken glass. I can tell the car once was white, with streaks of yellow and blue. I trace a blue stripe along its crumpled body to where I spot the word police.
We drive to the top of the biggest mountain of debris, 40 feet high. Looking down I see all the cranes at work in an area nicknamed 42d Street, after one of Manhattan's busiest thoroughfares. This, too, was once nothing but an empty field. Now it's an efficient factory that produces tiny mounds of death. The rain finally relents. Clouds shift and I glimpse the city in the distance, where the towers used to mark the skyline. I glance down at my feet and notice a red speck the size of a stamp. Marx pulls on it and slowly more red comes out of the ground, until he holds an entire flannel shirt. It has orange squares in a plaid design. Some of the bottom buttons are still closed. I can't help but wonder, what happened to the man who had worn it? Looking into Marx's eyes, I know.
Scelfo, Julie. "Letter From America.(touring Fresh Kills landfill in Staten Island where World Trade Center debris is being moved)(Brief Article)." Newsweek International. 2002. HighBeam Research. (October 3, 2010). http://www.highbeam.com/doc/1G1-82103533.html
"They Sift Tons to ID the Lost of Sept. 11, Those on Site See This, Too, as Sacred," by Fred Kaplan,
January 15, 2002, The Boston Globe, "They Sift Tons to ID the Lost of Sept. 11, Those on Site See This, Too, as Sacred," by Fred Kaplan, Globe Staff,
NEW YORK - While hundreds of tourists line up for a look at ground zero from the new viewing platform, the real horror has been relocated 19 miles away, to a former garbage dump called Fresh Kills.
The Lower Manhattan site that was once the World Trade Center is now pretty much empty. The fires are extinguished, the ruins are razed, and 1.2 million tons of rubble have been excavated by cranes and carted away by a long procession of trucks and barges.
The caravan's destination is Fresh Kills, a site named with the old Dutch word kills, used of the streams that run through the marshes of Staten Island, and long home to New York City's garbage dump.
The massive landfill has been transformed into the world's largest crime lab.
More than 300 detectives, FBI agents, and forensic specialists hover over the evidence, which pours in at the rate of 12,000 tons a day. They are looking for any evidence - body parts of attack victims, personal belongings, and especially those black boxes, the flight data recorders of the two passenger planes that crashed into the twin towers on Sept. 11.
Yesterday, the New York Police Department gave its first media tour of Fresh Kills, a heavily guarded, fenced-in area closed to the general public.
The wreckage spans 175 acres, 11 times the area of ground zero. There are piles of crushed metal, twisted steel girders, grey mounds of who-knows-what pulverized as fine as grain.
In excess of 1,000 charred and crushed cars, trucks, and taxicabs that were parked near the towers that morning now occupy one area of the site.
A few dozen firetrucks have been lined up nearby, their frames twisted, their tires ravaged, their engines mangled, everything beyond repair.
The guide for the tour is William H. Allee Jr., New York's chief of detectives and a 29-year veteran of the police force. He has seen all this many times, but it still makes him gulp.
"These are the people who responded to the disaster," he said, pointing to the red row. "This is what happened to their trucks."
Just outside a trailer that serves as the FBI's command post, a bronze sculpture of a muscular nude man by Auguste Rodin - which once stood in the offices of Cantor Fitzgerald, the bond trading firm on the World Trade Center's 101st floor - lies front down on the ground, its torso still intact, but its feet broken off, its head and arms vanished.
Nearby, another trailer bears a sign that reads, "Temporary Morgue." This is where body parts found in the sifting of debris are kept temporarily in a giant refrigerator before they are sent to the medical examiner's office for analysis.
More than 3,000 body parts have been found so far at Fresh Kills, their discovery leading to positive identifications of 46 victims, with more likely to come.
"We've found pieces of human remains that were maybe a quarter of an inch," Allee said. "Anything that has DNA can be useful. We put up pictures of the people who have been identified as a result of what goes on here. It lets everybody know their work is important."
Detectives wearing white worksuits and respirators are searching all across the site. Wherever trucks unload new piles, three or four detectives quickly rake through the debris.
After the large pieces of metal are removed, cranes lift what's left into six sets of twin chutes: one for fine particles, one for larger chunks.
The chunks are carried by conveyor belts, each manned by three detectives who examine each piece closely and stop the machinery whenever they see something that might be of forensic value.
Besides body parts, they have found driver's licenses, employee identification cards, photographs, jewelry, and more than 50 handguns, many of them presumably belonging to police officers killed when the buildings collapsed.
These possessions are taken to a decontamination center about 50 feet away, where they are cleaned and dried - a process that takes about 12 hours - and then catalogued in alphabetized bins, where they will eventually be returned to the owners or their families, if they can be tracked down.
The entire, elaborate operation - which also involves 150 sanitation workers and private contractors - runs nearly nonstop in three shifts, seven days a week, with breaks taken only from 1 to 5 a.m., to allow for maintenance of the equipment and cleaning of the muddied grounds.
Allee said he doubts that the airliners' black boxes will be found.
"I'm always hopeful," he said, "but there's a strong possibility that because of the impact, the black boxes were destroyed. They could have melted. They could have been pulverized."
Still, the crews work on - several retired detectives even come on weekends to help out - to find more human remains.
In the first few weeks after the attack, the debris came from ground zero to Staten Island by truck, through the Battery Tunnel, over the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway, and across the Verrazano Bridge.
Now the trucks coming out of the World Trade Center take the debris to Manhattan's south piers and load it on 12 to 15 barges per day, which cross New York Bay along the same route as the Staten Island Ferry, then into Newark Bay and through the winding streams that separate Staten Island from New Jersey.
This is the way that New York City's 14,000 tons of garbage per day used to be taken to Fresh Kills, until the dump was closed last year, after Mayor Rudolph Giuliani and Governor George Pataki took to heart complaints by Staten Islanders about the foul smell and the general indignity of being known as the city's garbage dump.
It was fortuitous that the dump shut down when it did, Allee said. If it were still operating, he said, he did not know where the debris from the World Trade Center would have been taken. There are few sites in the region with the size, security, isolation, and equipment of Fresh Kills.
Some family members of the 3,000 people killed in the Sept. 11 attack have complained about the possibility that their loved ones could end up in a garbage dump.
But Allee disputed the perception. "I'm tired of hearing that," he said. "This is not a dump. This is sacred ground.
"If we had done it in a football stadium or a beach or a parking lot, it would be the same thing," Allee said. "This is an extension of the World Trade Center. This is a special place."
Fred Kaplan, Globe Staff. "THEY SIFT TONS TO ID THE LOST OF SEPT. 11 THOSE ON SITE SEE THIS, TOO, AS SACRED." The Boston Globe (Boston, MA). 2002. HighBeam Research. (October 4, 2010). http://www.highbeam.com/doc/1P2-7698945.html
NEW YORK - While hundreds of tourists line up for a look at ground zero from the new viewing platform, the real horror has been relocated 19 miles away, to a former garbage dump called Fresh Kills.
The Lower Manhattan site that was once the World Trade Center is now pretty much empty. The fires are extinguished, the ruins are razed, and 1.2 million tons of rubble have been excavated by cranes and carted away by a long procession of trucks and barges.
The caravan's destination is Fresh Kills, a site named with the old Dutch word kills, used of the streams that run through the marshes of Staten Island, and long home to New York City's garbage dump.
The massive landfill has been transformed into the world's largest crime lab.
More than 300 detectives, FBI agents, and forensic specialists hover over the evidence, which pours in at the rate of 12,000 tons a day. They are looking for any evidence - body parts of attack victims, personal belongings, and especially those black boxes, the flight data recorders of the two passenger planes that crashed into the twin towers on Sept. 11.
Yesterday, the New York Police Department gave its first media tour of Fresh Kills, a heavily guarded, fenced-in area closed to the general public.
The wreckage spans 175 acres, 11 times the area of ground zero. There are piles of crushed metal, twisted steel girders, grey mounds of who-knows-what pulverized as fine as grain.
In excess of 1,000 charred and crushed cars, trucks, and taxicabs that were parked near the towers that morning now occupy one area of the site.
A few dozen firetrucks have been lined up nearby, their frames twisted, their tires ravaged, their engines mangled, everything beyond repair.
The guide for the tour is William H. Allee Jr., New York's chief of detectives and a 29-year veteran of the police force. He has seen all this many times, but it still makes him gulp.
"These are the people who responded to the disaster," he said, pointing to the red row. "This is what happened to their trucks."
Just outside a trailer that serves as the FBI's command post, a bronze sculpture of a muscular nude man by Auguste Rodin - which once stood in the offices of Cantor Fitzgerald, the bond trading firm on the World Trade Center's 101st floor - lies front down on the ground, its torso still intact, but its feet broken off, its head and arms vanished.
Nearby, another trailer bears a sign that reads, "Temporary Morgue." This is where body parts found in the sifting of debris are kept temporarily in a giant refrigerator before they are sent to the medical examiner's office for analysis.
More than 3,000 body parts have been found so far at Fresh Kills, their discovery leading to positive identifications of 46 victims, with more likely to come.
"We've found pieces of human remains that were maybe a quarter of an inch," Allee said. "Anything that has DNA can be useful. We put up pictures of the people who have been identified as a result of what goes on here. It lets everybody know their work is important."
Detectives wearing white worksuits and respirators are searching all across the site. Wherever trucks unload new piles, three or four detectives quickly rake through the debris.
After the large pieces of metal are removed, cranes lift what's left into six sets of twin chutes: one for fine particles, one for larger chunks.
The chunks are carried by conveyor belts, each manned by three detectives who examine each piece closely and stop the machinery whenever they see something that might be of forensic value.
Besides body parts, they have found driver's licenses, employee identification cards, photographs, jewelry, and more than 50 handguns, many of them presumably belonging to police officers killed when the buildings collapsed.
These possessions are taken to a decontamination center about 50 feet away, where they are cleaned and dried - a process that takes about 12 hours - and then catalogued in alphabetized bins, where they will eventually be returned to the owners or their families, if they can be tracked down.
The entire, elaborate operation - which also involves 150 sanitation workers and private contractors - runs nearly nonstop in three shifts, seven days a week, with breaks taken only from 1 to 5 a.m., to allow for maintenance of the equipment and cleaning of the muddied grounds.
Allee said he doubts that the airliners' black boxes will be found.
"I'm always hopeful," he said, "but there's a strong possibility that because of the impact, the black boxes were destroyed. They could have melted. They could have been pulverized."
Still, the crews work on - several retired detectives even come on weekends to help out - to find more human remains.
In the first few weeks after the attack, the debris came from ground zero to Staten Island by truck, through the Battery Tunnel, over the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway, and across the Verrazano Bridge.
Now the trucks coming out of the World Trade Center take the debris to Manhattan's south piers and load it on 12 to 15 barges per day, which cross New York Bay along the same route as the Staten Island Ferry, then into Newark Bay and through the winding streams that separate Staten Island from New Jersey.
This is the way that New York City's 14,000 tons of garbage per day used to be taken to Fresh Kills, until the dump was closed last year, after Mayor Rudolph Giuliani and Governor George Pataki took to heart complaints by Staten Islanders about the foul smell and the general indignity of being known as the city's garbage dump.
It was fortuitous that the dump shut down when it did, Allee said. If it were still operating, he said, he did not know where the debris from the World Trade Center would have been taken. There are few sites in the region with the size, security, isolation, and equipment of Fresh Kills.
Some family members of the 3,000 people killed in the Sept. 11 attack have complained about the possibility that their loved ones could end up in a garbage dump.
But Allee disputed the perception. "I'm tired of hearing that," he said. "This is not a dump. This is sacred ground.
"If we had done it in a football stadium or a beach or a parking lot, it would be the same thing," Allee said. "This is an extension of the World Trade Center. This is a special place."
Fred Kaplan, Globe Staff. "THEY SIFT TONS TO ID THE LOST OF SEPT. 11 THOSE ON SITE SEE THIS, TOO, AS SACRED." The Boston Globe (Boston, MA). 2002. HighBeam Research. (October 4, 2010). http://www.highbeam.com/doc/1P2-7698945.html
"Loss picture bleak for WTC art," by Sara Martin,
November 19 2001, Business Insurance, "Loss picture bleak for WTC art," by Sara Martin,
NEW YORK - Among the tens of billions of dollars of losses arising from the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center is "well over'' $100 million worth of destroyed fine art, one insurer estimates.
Though the amount of insurance covering that lost art has yet to be determined, fine-art specialists say it is common for the value of corporate art collections to be much higher than the amount for which they are actually insured.
With so much art lost in the collapse of the WTC towers, the amount of insured losses on these collections could approach $100 million, one fine-art insurance expert says.
It will be some time, though, before it is known exactly which works of art were destroyed or damaged in the Sept. 11 WTC attacks. For many tenants, the loss of their employees and their relocation concerns have taken a far higher priority over the filing of insurance claims for lost artwork.
What is known is that private art collections were commonplace among the corporate tenants of the twin towers. Some, including Cantor Fitzgerald L.P. and Silverstein Properties Inc., had extensive private and-in the case of Silverstein-public art collections that were destroyed.
"There was a lot of art throughout the buildings,'' said Greg Smith, director of the fine-art and jewelry division of New York-based insurance adjuster Cunningham Lindsey International. "If you went through the 200 floors of the two buildings, with all the major corporations there, you'd see some significant art losses,'' he said.
Mr. Smith said he would not be surprised if insured art losses ended up totaling $100 million. "There are multiple companies with little exposures, which add up to big numbers,'' he said. "Every company had some art.''
He also noted that many companies located near the WTC complex also had artwork that was damaged by debris and soot following the towers' collapse. Those works must be cleaned and, in some cases, restored, which will add to insured loss figures.
But as Robert Salmon, president of Fine Arts Risk Management Inc., an Arlington, Va.-based unit of the Near North Insurance Group, points out: "It might take a great deal of time for actual claimants to come forward, because they've got tremendous other priorities right now.''
The WTC and the plaza area surrounding it were home to more than $10 million worth of public art, which was acquired by the Port Authority of New York & New Jersey and later transferred to Silverstein Properties as part of its long-term lease of the center. Among the destroyed pieces was a $2.25 million Alexander Calder mobile; a $2 million Joan Miro tapestry, a $1 million Fritz Koenig fountain and a $1 million Masayuki Nagare sculpture.
New York-based AXA Art Insurance Corp., a subsidiary of Paris-based AXA S.A., insured the eight public art pieces that Silverstein acquired in the lease deal.
According to information supplied by the Port Authority, those eight pieces of art had insurance appraisals totaling nearly $10.2 million. An AXA spokeswoman said that the art was insured on a scheduled policy, meaning that each of the art pieces was insured to its full value.
In addition to Silverstein Properties' public art collection, AXA also insured two private corporate art collections in the WTC, the spokeswoman said. It expects to pay out a total of $20 million in art losses, or $2.5 million net of reinsurance, to its three clients, she said. In all, AXA estimates that "well over $100 million'' of art was destroyed in the WTC collapse.
The spokeswoman noted that for two policyholders the value of their collections is "much higher'' than the amount AXA will pay out in insurance claims. This is because the clients, never anticipating that their entire collections might be destroyed in a single event, opted for a ``loss-limit'' policy, which is based on probable maximum loss scenarios.
"It's very, very typical...that insureds buy only a certain amount of coverage'' for their entire corporate art collection as a means to save money, said Grace Thomas, assistant vp in the marine division of Atlantic Mutual Insurance Co. in Madison, N.J. Under probable maximum loss scenarios, "no one ever considered that all of a collection would be lost in one event,'' Ms. Thomas said. So it's not unreasonable for a corporate art collection to be worth $100 million but only be insured for $25 million per event, she said.
Fine-arts market sources say that AXA insured Cantor Fitzgerald's art collection, which at one time included 100 Auguste Rodin sculptures and drawings. According to Art News magazine, all but four of the Rodin works were removed from the 105th floor of the North Tower in 1996, after the death of the firm's founder, B. Gerald Cantor. What might have been added to the corporate collection since then remains unclear, the article notes.
Cantor Fitzgerald, which lost 700 members of its staff of 1,000 in the Sept. 11 attacks, did not return phone calls for this story.
In addition to AXA, other major players in the fine-arts insurance community include ACE USA Inc., Atlantic Mutual, Chubb Corp. and underwriters at Lloyd's of London. All but ACE, which would not comment, reported that they had little, if any, art exposure at the WTC.
But it was not only art collections housed in and around the WTC that were destroyed in the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks. About 25 military art pieces also were destroyed in the attack on the Pentagon, according to the four branches of the U.S. military.
The U.S. Army, for example, lost eight paintings and watercolors, said Renee Klish, art curator for the U.S. Army Center of Military History in Washington.
"They were not Picassos or Rembrandts; they were all soldier art,'' Ms. Klish said. ``There's more of a historical value than a fiscal value,'' she said, adding that the art that was destroyed was valued at about $7,100.
Ms. Klish said that since World War I, the Army has commissioned artists to provide firsthand interpretations of the scenes of Army involvement all over the world. The attack on the Pentagon destroyed paintings depicting scenes of military engagement in World War II, Vietnam, the Gulf War, Bosnia and Panama. A portrait of former President Dwight D. Eisenhower also was destroyed, Ms. Klish said.
Martin, Sara. "Loss picture bleak for WTC art.(Brief Article)(Statistical Data Included)." Business Insurance. 2001. HighBeam Research. (October 4, 2010). http://www.highbeam.com/doc/1G1-80236931.html
NEW YORK - Among the tens of billions of dollars of losses arising from the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center is "well over'' $100 million worth of destroyed fine art, one insurer estimates.
Though the amount of insurance covering that lost art has yet to be determined, fine-art specialists say it is common for the value of corporate art collections to be much higher than the amount for which they are actually insured.
With so much art lost in the collapse of the WTC towers, the amount of insured losses on these collections could approach $100 million, one fine-art insurance expert says.
It will be some time, though, before it is known exactly which works of art were destroyed or damaged in the Sept. 11 WTC attacks. For many tenants, the loss of their employees and their relocation concerns have taken a far higher priority over the filing of insurance claims for lost artwork.
What is known is that private art collections were commonplace among the corporate tenants of the twin towers. Some, including Cantor Fitzgerald L.P. and Silverstein Properties Inc., had extensive private and-in the case of Silverstein-public art collections that were destroyed.
"There was a lot of art throughout the buildings,'' said Greg Smith, director of the fine-art and jewelry division of New York-based insurance adjuster Cunningham Lindsey International. "If you went through the 200 floors of the two buildings, with all the major corporations there, you'd see some significant art losses,'' he said.
Mr. Smith said he would not be surprised if insured art losses ended up totaling $100 million. "There are multiple companies with little exposures, which add up to big numbers,'' he said. "Every company had some art.''
He also noted that many companies located near the WTC complex also had artwork that was damaged by debris and soot following the towers' collapse. Those works must be cleaned and, in some cases, restored, which will add to insured loss figures.
But as Robert Salmon, president of Fine Arts Risk Management Inc., an Arlington, Va.-based unit of the Near North Insurance Group, points out: "It might take a great deal of time for actual claimants to come forward, because they've got tremendous other priorities right now.''
The WTC and the plaza area surrounding it were home to more than $10 million worth of public art, which was acquired by the Port Authority of New York & New Jersey and later transferred to Silverstein Properties as part of its long-term lease of the center. Among the destroyed pieces was a $2.25 million Alexander Calder mobile; a $2 million Joan Miro tapestry, a $1 million Fritz Koenig fountain and a $1 million Masayuki Nagare sculpture.
New York-based AXA Art Insurance Corp., a subsidiary of Paris-based AXA S.A., insured the eight public art pieces that Silverstein acquired in the lease deal.
According to information supplied by the Port Authority, those eight pieces of art had insurance appraisals totaling nearly $10.2 million. An AXA spokeswoman said that the art was insured on a scheduled policy, meaning that each of the art pieces was insured to its full value.
In addition to Silverstein Properties' public art collection, AXA also insured two private corporate art collections in the WTC, the spokeswoman said. It expects to pay out a total of $20 million in art losses, or $2.5 million net of reinsurance, to its three clients, she said. In all, AXA estimates that "well over $100 million'' of art was destroyed in the WTC collapse.
The spokeswoman noted that for two policyholders the value of their collections is "much higher'' than the amount AXA will pay out in insurance claims. This is because the clients, never anticipating that their entire collections might be destroyed in a single event, opted for a ``loss-limit'' policy, which is based on probable maximum loss scenarios.
"It's very, very typical...that insureds buy only a certain amount of coverage'' for their entire corporate art collection as a means to save money, said Grace Thomas, assistant vp in the marine division of Atlantic Mutual Insurance Co. in Madison, N.J. Under probable maximum loss scenarios, "no one ever considered that all of a collection would be lost in one event,'' Ms. Thomas said. So it's not unreasonable for a corporate art collection to be worth $100 million but only be insured for $25 million per event, she said.
Fine-arts market sources say that AXA insured Cantor Fitzgerald's art collection, which at one time included 100 Auguste Rodin sculptures and drawings. According to Art News magazine, all but four of the Rodin works were removed from the 105th floor of the North Tower in 1996, after the death of the firm's founder, B. Gerald Cantor. What might have been added to the corporate collection since then remains unclear, the article notes.
Cantor Fitzgerald, which lost 700 members of its staff of 1,000 in the Sept. 11 attacks, did not return phone calls for this story.
In addition to AXA, other major players in the fine-arts insurance community include ACE USA Inc., Atlantic Mutual, Chubb Corp. and underwriters at Lloyd's of London. All but ACE, which would not comment, reported that they had little, if any, art exposure at the WTC.
But it was not only art collections housed in and around the WTC that were destroyed in the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks. About 25 military art pieces also were destroyed in the attack on the Pentagon, according to the four branches of the U.S. military.
The U.S. Army, for example, lost eight paintings and watercolors, said Renee Klish, art curator for the U.S. Army Center of Military History in Washington.
"They were not Picassos or Rembrandts; they were all soldier art,'' Ms. Klish said. ``There's more of a historical value than a fiscal value,'' she said, adding that the art that was destroyed was valued at about $7,100.
Ms. Klish said that since World War I, the Army has commissioned artists to provide firsthand interpretations of the scenes of Army involvement all over the world. The attack on the Pentagon destroyed paintings depicting scenes of military engagement in World War II, Vietnam, the Gulf War, Bosnia and Panama. A portrait of former President Dwight D. Eisenhower also was destroyed, Ms. Klish said.
Martin, Sara. "Loss picture bleak for WTC art.(Brief Article)(Statistical Data Included)." Business Insurance. 2001. HighBeam Research. (October 4, 2010). http://www.highbeam.com/doc/1G1-80236931.html
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