by Sara Tucker

Are we a nation of shallow grievers? "The site of the World Trade Center is currently New York's largest tourist trap," raged a visitor to Ground Zero back in 2004. "The sidewalks are wall-to-wall people, there is nothing left to see except a big, clean hole in the ground, and the commercialization of such an enormous loss of life (the hawkers are awful) is disrespectful enough to turn anyone's stomach."

That comment, posted at Virtual Tourist, sparked a group tirade from visitors displeased with their Ground Zero experience. "I saw some moronic tourist getting her picture taken in front of the site," fumed another blogger, "smiling and all. I thought to myself, 'What are you going to do with this picture when you get it developed?' You might as well blow it up poster size, and frame it with a caption 'I am an idiot.' It's like having a picture of yourself smiling in front of a grandparent's or parent's casket."

The crassness of tourists in places where horrendous suffering has occurred is nothing new, and neither is the ire it provokes. Early tourists of Gettysburg were lured in part by the chance to gamble in a newly built casino and have their pictures taken in a photography studio. Offended by the playland their battlefield had become, veterans finally took action to restore its dignity.

I asked my friend Peter Trachtenberg what to make of our nation's response to places that memorialize tremendous suffering. Peter is the author of The Book of Calamities: Five Questions About Suffering and Its Meaning. In it, he asks why so many Americans think of suffering as something that happens to other people--people who (we believe) usually deserve it. If you're tempted to take umbrage at his stance, read the book. It's candid, compassionate, and courageous. To write it, Peter traveled the world to places where suffering was palpable and widespread, and listened to people's stories of genocide (Rwanda) and cataclysm (Sri Lanka) and abject poverty (Calcutta). And yes, stories about the loss of loved ones on September 11. What can Americans learn, he wanted to know, from the people of Rwanda and Sri Lanka?