The offices here at Fast Company enjoy a most remarkable view. From our aerie on the 29th floor of 7 World Trade Center, we look out over the New York harbor, Ellis Island, the Statue of Liberty, and the occasional jetliner floating down the Hudson. More breathtaking yet is the view directly below our windows: that 16-acre construction site known as Ground Zero.
When we moved to Lower Manhattan in April of 2007, the view was more dispiriting than inspiring. A muddy pit was shored up by concrete walls; every once in a while, a lone train from New Jersey snaked through a partially visible tunnel in the center. Without the World Trade Center’s office workers, the area had become a commercial wasteland, apart from tourist attractions like Century 21 and J&R Electronics. The city had to offer incentives for urban pioneers.
The turnaround started shortly after 9/11, when developer Larry Silverstein called the architects at Skidmore, Owings & Merrill (SOM) and insisted that he wanted to rebuild on the site. “At the time, the press was saying high-rises were the product of a bygone era,” says Nicholas Holt, SOM’s director of technical architecture. “Even Larry was asking, ‘If I build this, will anybody be willing to rent?’ ” The site, after all, was still a smoking pit.
SOM, which for 75 years has been the go-to architectural firm for companies wanting cutting-edge thinking in skyscraper innovation, knew the future of high-rises rested on one thing: making people feel safe working in tall towers. The first building to be erected adjacent to ground zero would be ours, 7 World Trade. Everyone involved knew it would become a test case for addressing the design failings of the ill-fated towers and forging a model for how skyscrapers should be built in the future.
