JANUARY 8TH MEMORIAL: THE EMBRACE
An Embrace in Remembrance of Tragedy and Celebration of Democracy Tucson’s January 8th Memorial is a collaboration between Chee Salette, landscape architect and architect, and Rebeca Méndez, visual artist. Chee Salette’s landscape and architecture together with Méndez’s symbolic artwork honor the victims and survivors of the mass shooting and the resilience of the community.  

Photography by Iwan Baan.

Honoring the victims and survivors of the 2011 shooting at then Representative Gabrielle Giffords’ “Congress on your Corner.” The Memorial is an embrace. In a single gesture, its landforms become healing arms protecting the inner memorial, where the story of January 8th is told. Carved into the landscape of El Presidio Park, the Memorial is a place of contemplation and reflection where visitors can honor the victims and survivors of this tragic event, who were there to engage in democracy, and the first responders who stopped the violence and saved lives. Symbols telling this story are cut into this collective wall of memories, forming constellations that speak of the people who died, survived and responded on that day, and recall Tucson’s history of resilience. In the surrounding gardens, the earthforms of the Living Wall protect the Memorial. It evolves over time and changes with the seasons, yet it is timeless and spans generations, an organic landscape of stone and plants woven in a pattern that evokes ancient basket weaving. People plant seeds in its crevices, where life takes root, a celebration of Tucson’s togetherness in the face of tragedy, and a manifestation of the healing of its community.

Visit Southern Arizona Heritage & Visitor Center for further information: 
https://visitsouthernarizona.com/january-8-memorial/



AN EMBRACE IN REMEMBERANCE OF TRAGEDY AND CELEBRATION OF DEMOCRACY

On the Saturday morning of January 8, 2011 in Tucson, Arizona, a crazed gunman opened fire at a “Congress On Your Corner” event, a practice in civic participation organized by Representative Gabrielle Giffords in order to have face-to-face meetings with her constituents. In 19 seconds 33 bullets were unleashed, leaving 19 dead or wounded on the ground, a city in mourning and a country in shock. This was an attack on democracy, and the first time a U.S. House member was targeted.

Dedicated ten years after the shooting, the January 8th Memorial is an embrace. In a single gesture, its landforms become healing arms protecting the inner memorial, on whose walls stories of the victims and survivors of January 8, 2011 unfold. 

Carved into the landscape of El Presidio Park—the location of over 6,000 years of Native, Spanish, Mexican and American inhabitation and Tucson’s main civic space—the Memorial faces City Hall and is immediately adjacent to the Old Pima County Courthouse, the 100 year-old architectural icon recently repurposed. Impressing the historical significance of January 8th, the Memorial is placed on Tucson's civic axis, which traverses the historic Courthouse and leads to the park.

The presence of the Memorial at the foot of the Courthouse marks the fact that the violence perpetrated on that day was an assault on freedom of expression and self-government. Its position on the civic axis, used by citizens and visitors, makes the Memorial part of the everyday life of the city. Its landforms connect to the greater context of the mountains surrounding Tucson, while its colors, textures, and plants are of the Sonoran Desert.

Walking along the civic axis, through the historic courtyard and ornate gate of the Courthouse, visitors discover the Memorial as a gateway to El Presidio Park. Seen from the park, the Memorial landforms rise from the earth, framing the façade of the Courthouse and celebrating its iconic presence. The Memorial is a new forecourt to the historic building, scaled to mirror the cloister located on the city side of the domed breezeway. The landscape of the Memorial completes the architecture of the Courthouse to compose a singular monumental expression.

From the bridge traversing the Memorial, visitors look upon two infinity pools, delicately overflowing with a thin veil of water behind which the names of the victims and survivors of January 8th are engraved. As the visitors descend in the memorial space, the inner wall rises, slopes outward, opens to the sky and cradles them. The noise of the city recedes and the liquid sound remains to create an intimate, spiritual space where visitors are surrounded by the pulsating array of voids and symbols carved into a shaped wall of remembrance, representing the people who died that fateful day, and those who survived their wounds.

As the sun moves across the Memorial, the symbol cutouts and their shadows overlap in layers of meaning. At night, they glow softly like stars in the dark sky above, evoking the candlelight vigils that illuminated the evenings following the tragedy.

As one enters the inner space of the Memorial, a field emerges from the ground and rises to create an embrace of light, where impressions of the lives lost and people wounded are expressed through carved symbols that embody the values and interests held dear by each of the six people who were killed, and the thirteen who survived. The symbolic language is inspired by the petroglyphs left thousands of years ago by the Hohokam in the Sonoran Desert.

Each of the 19 affected has a ‘constellation’ of 33 holes representing the voids the bullets left. Cut into these holes, the slain people have seven symbols that are personal to them. For instance, the scales of justice for federal judge John Roll, the butterfly from nine-year-old Christina-Taylor Green’s last drawing, and the hohokam eagle for the New Jersey snowbird Phyllis Schneck.

Gabe Zimmerman, the director of community outreach for Gabby Giffords, is the first congressional aide ever to die in the line of duty. One symbol for him is the local bighorn sheep, whose balance and sure-footedness he mimicked as defender in soccer and as a social worker protecting disturbed children. When the shots rang out Gabe ran toward the bullets, never questioning the risk, and gave his life to protect his colleagues and constituents.

The survivors have five symbols that convey their life and values. The symbols were determined by interviews with family members, survivors, the speech by President Obama, plus from the many articles local and national media devoted to the tragedy. Based on that, a library of visual references was compiled, grounding the memorial’s visual language on land, peoples, history and culture of the region.

As a memento, visitors to the Memorial can themselves make a blind embossed version of a symbol, which is done by gently rubbing with one’s finger onto paper laid over the art. One can find their favorite symbol, one identified as a shared value held in common—for instance the symbol for kindness—then trace through touch the surface and shape, to carry the value home and forward into their life.

The inner memorial is buttressed by an earthen berm forming a “living wall,” an organic landscape covered with stone and plants woven in a pattern that evokes ancient basket weaving, evolves over time and changes with the seasons, allowing for new life to take root and grow to flourish, a manifestation of the resilience and healing of Tucson as a community. Its colors contrast with the near-white surface of the inner wall, and echo the warm tones of the Courthouse, marrying the two monuments.

As the story of January 8th was taking shape, it became meaningful that this tragedy be framed in the larger context of Tucson’s past, one of conquest, violence and survival. The Memorial’s location at the birthplace of the city provided the perfect setting to represent the history of Southern Arizona. This history of hardship but also resilience looks at January 8th with a wider lens, transcending the tragic day and making the Memorial a monument to the region and diversity of its people. It is illustrated through thirty-two symbols displayed on a circle of lanterns lighting the path around the Memorial.

Together they highlight southern Arizona’s resilience in the face of its harsh desert climate, conquest, segregation, modernization, diversity and violence, as well as some of Tucson’s industrial, technological and cultural accomplishments. Researched and curated by local historian Jackie Kain, these symbols form the common ground Tucson rises from, and was informed by public meetings, community stakeholders, historians, the Pascua Yaqui, Apache and Tohono O’odham tribes and the late Richard Elias, a County Supervisor who was passionate about the history of Tucson, warts and all.

On the outskirts of the pathway are six thematic memorial gardens for each of the deceased. Christina-Taylor Green’s garden has plants to attract butterflies. Maureen Roll, the widow of Judge John Roll, immediately knew the theme for his garden. In the hours of shock and grief after the death of her husband, as the family gathered outside at the Roll home, a hummingbird fell from the sky. The family put it in a towel and held it until it revived and flew to the spot where the children were gathered. A grandchild interpreted the unusual event as a sign that “Papa is in heaven.” Maureen felt it was John telling her he was okay.

The people of Tucson remember the shooting not only as a tragedy and a disaster. Night after night people gathered at three spontaneous memorials to burn candles, leave flowers and poems and handiwork of all kinds. Thousands lined the streets for each funeral. The enormous outpouring of grief and outrage over the senseless massacre transformed into a solidarity and togetherness felt among the community that offered both the solace and strength to overcome the devastation. The communal mourning of the dead also became a shared celebration of life.

The January 8th Memorial expresses both the grief of tragedy and the joy of community in the heart of Tucson’s civic life, at the spot where the city originated. The Memorial communicates through the coalescence of landscape born out of the Sonoran Desert, architecture composed with the historic Pima County Courthouse, and artwork inspired by the petroglyphs of the Hohokam. The January 8th Memorial is an expression of Tucson, its setting, its history and its people.

“One of the things that happened absolutely immediately is the community coming together, wanting to support each other, wanting to make something good come out of this,” said Pam Simon, a community outreach coordinator for Rep. Giffords’ Congressional office who was seriously wounded in the shooting. “The community demanded a place to mourn.”

On the 10th anniversary of the shooting tragedy Tucson’s January 8th Memorial was unveiled in a scaled-down, pandemic-appropriate setting.  Five years earlier, a community initiative organized as the Tucson January 8th Memorial Foundation, wrote out an international architectural competition for design proposals, and attracted 78 entries.  Karen Christensen, the first president of the Board of Directors, laid out the vision for “creating a place where citizens gather to reflect and remember and engage and exercise their most basic fundamental rights, where we honor those who gave their lives in pursuit of a better democracy, and a place where we celebrate today and embrace our future.”   The Memorial is funded by a community effort of individual donations, by companies, foundations and grants in Southern Arizona.

A bill backed by Tucson-area Reps. Ann Kirkpatrick, Raul Grijalva and Tom O'Halleran would make the memorial a federal monument. The measure is supported by Arizona's entire congressional delegation, Democrats and Republicans alike. The bill directs the Department of the Interior to establish the January 8th National Memorial in Tucson, Arizona, as an affiliated area of the National Park System in commemoration of the shooting of Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords and 18 others in Tucson on January 8, 2011.

On January 8, 2021, two days after another assault took place on this nation’s democratic principles, president-elect Joe Biden marked the anniversary, releasing a statement pledging to continue working to end gun violence:

“Ten years ago today, in Tucson, Arizona, six innocent lives were taken away by a senseless and brutal act of violence: Dorothy Morris, Judge John Roll, Phyllis Schneck, Dorwan Stoddard, Gabriel Zimmerman, and nine-year-old Christina-Taylor Green. In the decade since, too many families have known the pain of losing a loved one to gun violence, of futures stolen and dreams cut down before their time. Today, Jill and I remember the people we lost in Tucson, and all of the families whose lives were irreversibly changed that day.

Among those wounded in that horrific attack was my friend Congresswoman Gabby Giffords, whose perseverance and immeasurable courage in the years since has been an inspiration to millions. Like so many survivors of violence, Gabby has turned tragedy into purpose, working with other leaders across the country to transform the fight for gun safety reform from a cause to a movement. Every day she fights to make our communities safer and move us closer to our goal of a nation free from gun violence. As president, I pledge to continue to work together with Congresswoman Giffords, and with survivors, families, and advocates across the country, to defeat the NRA and end the epidemic of gun violence in America.”

ARTIST STATEMENT BY REBECA MÉNDEZ:

The memorial symbolic language is directly inspired by the petroglyphs left thousands of years ago by the Hohokam in the Sonoran Desert in places like Signal Hill.

The story of the lives lost and people wounded at the hand of a gunman on January 8, 2011, in Tucson, is told through a symbolic language that embodies the values and interests held by each of the six people that died and the thirteen survivors. In addition, there are symbols dedicated to the community of first responders, Tucson’s history, and the aspirations of the community for the future, in the spirit of Together We Thrive.

Together the symbols convey the story of Tucson’s resilience in the face of the climate, conquest, segregation, modernization and violence. As well as Tucson’s industrial, technological and cultural accomplishments. The memorial symbolic language is directly inspired by the petroglyphs left by the Hohokam in the Sonoran Desert in places like Signal Hill, and builds upon it.

The gunman fired 33 rounds, killing 6 and wounding 13 people. For each of the affected I created a ‘constellation’ of 33 holes representing the voids left by those wounded and those taken from us. Some of these voids were then imbued with symbols portraying the values and interests of the victims or survivors. Each of the slain people gets 7 symbols that are personal to them. For instance, the scales of justice for federal judge John Roll, the butterfly from Christina-Taylor Green’s last drawing, or the hohokam eagle for the New Jersey snowbird Phyllis Schneck. The symbols are determined by interviews and conversations with those directly affected; family members of the slain, the ones that survived their wounds, plus extensive research into the many articles local and national media devoted to the tragedy as well as several books that have been published. Based on that I compiled visual references as well as relevant indigenous people’s symbols, including Hohokam, Tohono O’odham, Pascua Yaqui and Apache. All these references helped ground and locate the memorial visual language on local land, history and culture.

Some symbols capture the spirit of “Together We Thrive,” the community’s response in the days following the shooting, when the outpouring of grief and outrage over the senseless massacre transformed into a solidarity and togetherness felt among the people of Tucson that offered both the solace and strength to overcome the devastation. People fondly recall the loving embrace the community held each other in, especially manifested at the three memorials that had spontaneously followed immediately after January 8, 2011, where the mourning of the dead also became a shared celebration of life.

Opposite the memorial wall is the reflecting pool, in whose steps and bench seating the names of the people will be engraved opposite the symbols pertaining to them.

As a memento, visitors to the memorial can take home a blind embossed version of a symbol, which can be done by gently rubbing with one’s finger onto paper. This was inspired by my experience as a child, when my father would take me to visit Mayan temples and we would make rubbings of the glyphs onto paper with cooled charcoal from our campfire. Below is a podcast  

PROJECT DETAILS:
Type: Memorial and surrounding gardens commemorating the victims, survivors, and first responders of the January 8, 2011 shooting
Size: 1 acre
Status: Completed. Inauguration: January 8, 2021.
Awards: International competition awarded in 2015; National Memorial and National Park Service Affiliation Bill introduced in Congress.

Team: January 8th Memorial Foundation; Pima County; City of Tucson; Chee Salette: landscape and architecture; Rebeca Méndez: visual artist; agLicht: lighting; Jackie Kain: history and community outreach; Fluidity: water feature design; GLHN: civil, electrical, plumbing; Schneider Structural Engineers.

Rebeca Méndez Studio team:
Visual artist: Rebeca Méndez; Research, interviews and project management: Adam Eeuwens; Assistant design: Jihun Lee and Mika Tohmon; Production design: Angaea Cuna, Bijun Liang, Hazel, and Tiffany Taimoorazy.

PRESS:
Landscape Architecture Magazine. ‘A Memorial for the Moment,’ by Timothy A. Schuler. 4/20/21.
Architectural Record. ‘Tucson Commemorates Shooting 10 Years Later,’ by Bridget Cogley. 4/19/21. 
Pima County Press Release: January 8 Memorial
UCLA Arts. “‘The Embrace’ is a different kind of Memorial. Rebeca Méndez Collaborates on Design of Tucson Mass Shooting Memorial,” by Avishay Artsy. 01/07/2021.
Listen to the UCLA Arts ‘Works in Progress’ podcast with the same title here
January 8th Memorial’s ‘The Embrace’ honors shooting victims and open arms of Tucson community”. By Henry Brean. Tucson.com. 01/07/2021