This photo is taken from across the Hudson River, looking towards lower Manhattan, with the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center soaring into the sky. If you note the lower right corner of the photo, the date is superimposed – 10 September 2001. What the person taking this photograph didn’t know – what no American knew – was that within 24 hours, lower Manhattan would be an ash heap and the once majestic Twin Towers nothing more than a smoldering heap of twisted steel.
The day that our nation swore we would never forget has become a historical event more than an active remembrance to some. Most Americans born after me have no memories of that day. And while each anniversary is remembered in New York, DC, and Pennsylvania, is the memory of the day, and the thousands of American lives it claimed, being kept alive in the rest of America? Is it possible that in some circles, we’ve allowed the formal ceremonies at Ground Zero, the Pentagon, and the Shanksville field to be the extent of our remembrance? And if so, what can we do to truly remember again?
It is the belief of this writer that the best way to ensure the memory of the day and all the horror it contained is by each individual recalling the day through their eyes, telling their own story. It is in this way that those born after me, and those yet to be born, do not ever let September 11th pass by without remembering to appreciate our heroes and their sacrifices, and celebrate America’s resilience.
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