The Elegy was composed between September 14 and 20, 2001 as a tribute to all those who perished in the attacks of September 11.

My own office lies directly across Liberty Street from the South Tower and was so severely damaged that we will likely never be able to reenter it. So, like most Americans, I spent much of the following week glued to the television, and searching for some meaning.

I live in Jersey City, New Jersey, the waterfront area of which became an enormous staging area for the rescue people coming in from west of the city. They were shuttled back and forth across the Hudson River on ferries, private boats, anything that floated, really. The people who live here became an impressive back-up force, forming long bucket brigades to unload trucks of food, water and clothing.

As long as I live I will never forget the looks on the faces of the rescue workers coming back to Jersey City after a twelve or fourteen hour shift at Ground Zero. We would all stop what we were doing and applaud and cheer for them, but their dark, anguished expressions spoke only of hopelessness.

When I started composing the Elegy I had hoped it would be cathartic for me, at least something other than the smoking New York skyline to which I could direct my attention. But ultimately working on this piece only pulled me in closer, made the disaster more real, and I've since decided that was a good thing. How do we find a way to mourn that even begins to approach the scale of the loss? It's not possible. We take part in bucket brigades, we applaud our heros. It's a start, at least.

Click here to listen to Sara Fishko's interview of Jeffery Cotton about the composing of Elegy (from WNYC, New York City's NPR affiliate).