Each One: The Button Project, A 9/11 Memorial
Councilor Chris Dwyer (left) with artist Sarah Haskell on the acceptance in 2011 of Haskell's “Each One: The Button Project, a 9/11 Memorial.” The work was first displayed in City Hall and then installed in the Community Campus main building in 2026.
Each One: The Button Project, a 9/11 Memorial
Artist: Sarah Haskell
Completed June 2002
Hand-dyed, hand-woven linen, rayon and donated buttons. 50” x 120”
Background
After 9/11, the textile artist Sarah Haskell of York ME wanted to create “something that lasts, while the memories fade.” The result was “Each One: The Button Project."
Sarah Haskell’s artwork incorporates regimented rows of 3,116 – one for each life lost -- bone-colored buttons lined up across the dark linen handwoven backdrop as an abstract representation of the Twin Towers. There are 19 buttons Sarah had randomly scattered at the top like a constellation in the night sky – by coincidence, the same number of terrorists identified as responsible for the attacks. The piece was displayed at the Currier Museum in 2002; then in 2011, the Portsmouth City Council voted to use gifted funds to purchase the artwork in honor and recognition of Evelyn Sirrell, who was Mayor from 1997-2005, including on September 11, 2001. In 2017, the September 11th Memorial and Museum in New York City asked to borrow the piece, where it was displayed until September 2019 when it returned to City Hall. In 2026 the piece was moved to the atrium of the Portsmouth Community Campus main building.
Artist’s Statement:
“In the weeks following the September 11th tragedy, I struggled to find a way to come to terms with and understand the enormity of the loss of life that occurred on that day.
My response as a visual artist is to make art. That is how I attempt to sort out larger-than-life events in this world. So I designed a hand-woven, hand-dyed art work that would use buttons to represent the numbers of human life lost on September 11th. I wanted to honor each individual 9/11 victim and buttons seemed like an appropriate metaphor.
On October 15, 2001, I e-mailed friends, family and colleagues about this art project, and in turn these people e-mailed their friends, family and colleagues.
Within 24 hours I had strangers at my studio door with handsful of buttons.
Every day, for almost six months, I received more buttons, either in my mailbox or hand delivered. Most packages of buttons came with a letter or note of support, thoughtful feedback and gratitude. Over 8,000 buttons came to my door as a result of this one email.
Over the winter of 2001-02, I designed and wove the 9/11 memorial piece that used over 3,000 buttons from hundreds of donors. The hand-dyed, hand-woven linen cloth that the buttons were sewn onto became a shroud for the lives lost.
In the process of creating this piece I found that people needed an outlet to express their grief and feelings of helplessness. The Button Project became a community art piece with over 25 community volunteers sewing the buttons in a sewing marathon (that’s about 300-plus buttons a day!).
The magnitude of the community response to this project has been humbling and very inspirational. This project has shown me first-hand the power of art to perform healing.”
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When Sarah started collecting buttons for the projects, she said, “The piece started unfolding. I felt I had to get out of the way.” Ultimately she collected more than enough buttons for the 3,116 she needed -- one for every victim of the fall of the World Trade Center. It was important that all the buttons were the same color – white or bone buttons to reflect the humanity of each person, under the skin. “Those buttons really connected us together. Nearly every day would bring a new packet with buttons and a note.”
Sarah has used community weaving and sewing projects before to draw people together. The twenty-five volunteers who helped sew the buttons onto the cloth were of all ages and backgrounds. “The work was a metaphor – it drew us together, just as buttoning a coat brings the pieces together and helps us pull through in dark times. This project – not only the buttons that draw things together, but the sewing – reminded us that at unpredictable times we are all the same inside.”
The final work stands almost 10 feet tall. Regimented rows of bone-colored buttons line up across the dark linen fabric backdrop. Designed as an abstract representation of the Twin Towers with a thin gold thread outlining them against the black linen, it wasn’t until she stepped back that Sarah realized the center gap turned the towers into an arrow, pointing upward, in a gesture of hope. Then, when the piece was exhibited at the Currier Museum of Art, its full symbolism emerged. A museum guard there pointed out that by chance, the buttons Sarah had scattered at the top like a constellation in the night sky counted 19 – the same number of terrorists identified as responsible for the attacks.
