In the midst of the politics that have surrounded this anniversary of a warm Tuesday morning that will forever be seared into the mind of your humble pundit. I believe many have focused on the not-so-important at the expense of people such as Ms. Mary Lenz Wieman.

It is an honor and a privilege to be apart of something such as this. It has been my privilege to keep the flame alive, to remember the victims, the human beings that were taken away from this country. We lost a part of who we were that day, and this is why I will never forget, because we have not been the same since. 

As I did last year, I will share with my readers but a small editorial that made an indelible mark on me in the weeks following 9/11. It inspired me then and continues to this day, 5 years later. The words ring just as true for each of us now as they did when we were still watching images of the smoldering ashes.

We’ll go forward from this moment…. 

It’s my job to have something to say.They pay me to provide words that help make sense of that whichtroubles the American soul. But in this moment of airless shock when hot tears sting disbelieving eyes, the only thing I can find to say, the only words that seem to fit, must be addressed to the unknown author of this suffering.

You monster.

You beast.

You unspeakable bastard.

What lesson did you hope to teach us by your coward’s attack on our World Trade Center, our Pentagon, us? What was it you hoped we would learn? Whatever it was, please know that you failed. Did you want us to respect your cause? You just damned your cause. Did you want to make us fear? You just steeled our resolve.

Did you want to tear us apart?

You just brought us together. Let me tell you about my people. We are a vast and quarrelsomefamily, a family rent by racial, social, political and class division, but a family nonetheless. We’re frivolous, yes, capable of expending tremendous emotional energy on pop cultural minutiae — a singer’s revealing dress, a ball team’s misfortune, a cartoon mouse.  We’re wealthy, too, spoiled by the ready availability of trinkets and material goods, and maybe because of that, we walk through life with a certain sense of blithe entitlement. We are fundamentally decent, though — peace-loving and compassionate. We struggle to know the right thing and to do it. And we are, the overwhelming majority of us, people of faith, believers in a just and loving God.Some people — you, perhaps — think that any or all of this makes us weak. You’re mistaken. We are not weak. Indeed, we are strong in ways that cannot be measured by arsenals.Yes, we’re in pain now. We are in mourning and we are in shock. We’re still grappling with the unreality of the awful thing you did, still working to make ourselves understand that this isn’t a special effect from some Hollywood blockbuster, isn’t the plot development from a Tom Clancy novel. Both in terms of the awful scope of their ambition and the probable final death toll, your attacks are likely to go down as the worst acts of terrorism in the history of the United States and, probably, the history of the world. You’ve bloodied us as we have never been bloodied before.But there’s a gulf of difference between making us bloody and making us fall. This is the lesson Japan was taught to its bitter sorrow the last time anyone hit us this hard, the last time anyone brought us such abrupt and monumental pain. When roused, we are righteous in our outrage, terrible in our force. When provoked by this level of barbarism, we will bear any suffering, pay any cost, go to any length, in the pursuit of justice.I tell you this without fear of contradiction. I know my people, as you, I think, do not. What I know reassures me. It also causes me to tremble with dread of the future.In the days to come, there will be recrimination and accusation,fingers pointing to determine whose failure allowed this to happen
and what can be done to prevent it from happening again. There will be heightened security, misguided talk of revoking basic freedoms.  We’ll go forward from this moment sobered, chastened, sad. But determined, too. Unimaginably determinedYou see, the steel in us is not always readily apparent. That aspect of our character is seldom understood by people who don’t know us well. On this day, the family’s bickering is put on hold.As Americans we will weep, as Americans we will mourn, and as
Americans, we will rise in defense of all that we cherish.So I ask again: What was it you hoped to teach us? It occurs to me that maybe you just wanted us to know the depths of your hatred. If that’s the case, consider the message received. And take this message in exchange: You don’t know my people. You don’t know what we’re capable of. You don’t know what you just started.But you’re about to learn.

Blue Star Chronicles,

The following blog carnival contains scenes of unfathomable murder at the hands of Islam, and while it is suitable for all viewers - in fact MUST be viewed by all - please brace yourself because what was done to us that day and the human losses we suffered are still traumatic to view

Pirate’s Cove
StoptheACLU

Michelle Malkin,

I am kicking off 24-hour 9/11 anniversary coverage today with my entry for the 2,996 Project.

As I mentioned last month, the project launched by D.C. Roe involves more than 3,000 bloggers who have joined together to commemorate each and every one of the victims of 9/11 on this fifth anniversary.