Eleven years ago we all went through one of those riveting moments. Most people recall where they were when they heard the news. I remember the horror of watching the World Trade Center collapse; it was live on television. At least in the past events of this nature were not put right in front of us. It took many hours for word to come of the Japanese attack on Pearly Harbor and days after that for the first pictures to make it here. When president Kennedy was shot, there was prompt coverage on television, but even then America did not watch it happen. The 9-11 attacks were different; it was a new type of assault on the national psyche. Tens or hundreds of millions of people heard of the planes hitting the WTC and televisions across America were tuned to pictures of the burning Trade Center. Then we sat there as first one and then the other building collapsed and thousands died before our eyes. It was the kind of moment that cannot be forgotten.
Today is a time to remember what happened and to remember those who died. The father whose children were in school with my younger daughter. My neighbor who lived down the street and who just happened to be in the city for a meeting. Countless others, some of whom I knew, but most of whom I did not. Innocents all, these folks were murdered in the named of jihad. My guess is that 98% of those who died would not have been able to even tell us what jihad is; today, of course, most people know. We have no choice.
America needs to honor the memory of those who fell on 9-11 by doing the only thing that makes sense. We need to keep vigilant that nothing like this ever happens again. But today, we also remember. It is not enough, but, at least, it is something.
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