September 11th, 2001. The day is burned into the heart of every American. With it comes a darkness that looms over us just like the column of fire and smoke that rose from the heart of the City on that fateful day. It’s a painful reminder of our loss, our vulnerability and the ire of our enemies. It is a specter which haunts our dear Republic. 

Many were lost that day. Those souls consumed by the fiery attack were joined by those who entered into its wake, desperate courageous citizens grasping for life among the ash and twisted steel. Many more too would bear the invisible wounds of loss of family, friends, colleagues and countrymen. Still more, steeled by the promise to never let such an attack befall us again, donned the uniform and walked into the cauldron of war. The rings of loss compiling and repeating in concentric emanations from that day. We who remain are comforted only by the delicate ideal that those who were lost will forever be remembered as heroes.

But on this day the dead are not dead. They are held aloft in our remembrance, shining like a beacon for all to see. In their memoriam, we are reminded not of those who wish to divide or conquer us, but of that which binds us together. This day is a hallowed moment of unity which we embrace, honor and revere. Those who have been taken from us are not lost, for they live on in our covenant to continue onward with an unbroken spirit in search of that which is righteous, shining and true.

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