Today, an entire nation remembers. And reflects. Be sure to check out our ongoing liveblog, with links to all of HuffPost's 9/11 coverage -- including Andrea Stone and John Rudolf on continuing national security vulnerabilities, and Tom Zeller and Lynne Peeples on the environmental impact of the attacks -- as well as links to the best 9/11 stories from around the web. We are also featuring a truly remarkable collection of pieces from our Patch network. We asked each of our 999 Patch editors to identify someone in their town whose life had been altered by 9/11 -- or something that had been forever changed. The stories are as moving as they are varied, including a Midwestern firehouse chaplain who was on a truck heading to New York as soon as the towers fell; a pilot who left the cockpit to run for office after 9/11; and the school where the youngest passenger on Flight 93 had been enrolled. Please check them out -- and add your own memories to the conversation.
Here is a permanent memorial to the heroes of Flight 93 and a tribute to the victims of 9/11. It is a site where unparalleled tragedy has been converted into hope and healing -- and a place whose sacredness must be experienced in person.
A decade later 9/11 has become the name of a path as much as the name of an occurrence. Until we search out the tributary paths that led to the catastrophe, we will not begin to master the other courses to which it might lead.
I remember playing at Farm Aid's annual concert, a few weeks after 9/11. We were determined to send a message of hope.
This September, what will you do to remember? Will you take time to maybe help paint a school, or plant a tree, or tutor a child? Wherever you are from you can demonstrate the common humanity that binds us together and makes our societies and our world stronger.
As unimaginable and cowardly as the 9/11 attacks were, it's important to ask ourselves what we must learn from them. Not just about terrorism, but about our country and ourselves as well.
It haunts me to my grave that prior to 9/11 I should have pounded on the doors of editorial writers and presidents demanding that they take the warnings of terrorist attacks seriously. Unlike the first responders, I cannot say that I did my duty.
A decade after 9/11, I've been thinking a lot about heroes. I think about the ones that should have been, but ultimately couldn't carry the weight of the moment. I think about the ones we'll never know, or even know about, but should be able to recite by name.
Part of Never Forget is Moving Forward. We honor the fallen that way, whether they fell in the towers, at the Pentagon, Shanksville, or on the battlefields of Iraq and Afghanistan. And if you're not sure how, or not sure you're ready, find a veteran and ask him or her to help.
After 9/11, America embarked on a path of revenge and vendetta, shedding the blood of thousands of innocent Afghans and Iraqis. Our gallant troops died avenging my son's death and the deaths of every precious soul we lost on 9/11. Who benefited? What did we gain?
In 1999 we warned that terrorists "will acquire weapons of mass destruction... and some will use them. Americans will likely die on American soil, possibly in large numbers." Tragically, few in government or the media paid attention.
Today, as we commemorate the tenth anniversary of the atrocity of 9/11, we must continue to stand by our first responders and provide them with the tools and resources they need to handle a major national emergency and save lives.
Ten years after 9/11, my wife and I still have no better explanation to offer our sons -- now 12 and 14 -- for what on earth happened that day than the poetic one that Stevie Wonder somehow understood a quarter century before those twin towers fell.
Every magazine and paper and news show seems to want to define the post-9/11 decade, but for those of us who lost our spouses, children, parents, and siblings, there is no defining or encapsulating.
Failure to understand or act on intelligence goes a long way toward explaining the attacks of September 11, 2001. On this 10th anniversary of those events, we seem, once again, not to grasp the import of the information being provided by our intelligence.
This week, I had the privilege of sitting down with three remarkable young women who all had parents who died in the north tower of the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001. Here is what I learned.
In the post-2008 return to 9/11 style intimidation by framing, conservatives have been winning. They have protected industry from regulation and successfully attacked the very idea of the public -- public education, employees, unions, parks, housing, and safety nets.
In commemorating the 9/11 tragedy we dare not practice a submissive, counterfeit faith that assumes our own sinfulness and G-d's righteousness. We did nothing to earn this.
From survivor stories to taking on religious, political and global ramifications, here is our collection of the very best opinion, analysis and heartfelt expression from our valued contributors.
My son joined after 'Mission Accomplished' in Iraq, but was killed in Iraq in September 2007. He was number 3,757 killed, age 22, which was the average age killed in the war on terror that was launched ten years ago.
Not letting go permeates the city these days. In large ways and small, New Yorkers still are trying to refill the empty sky that Bruce Springsteen mourned.
In our sudden sense of vulnerability ten years ago we were then, and perhaps for the first time, like most of the world, where vulnerability is an accepted part of being human.
I remember that after the Sept. 11 attacks, a great pall fell over the otherwise gorgeous fall days. Everything during that season seemed at once excessively beautiful and excessively sad.
While I believe ours to be the greatest country on earth, one that has done so much to improve the world, I also believe we have much for which we should repent.
Ten years ago the world united in horror at the attacks perpetrated in the United States on September 11th, 2001. In that moment, geographical distance vanished and differences in culture or political systems faded away in our common grief.