Friday.  It's 9/11.

So many people seem plunged in sadness and sorrow.  Eight years removed from the tragic events on this day, I no longer see sorrow as a fitting tribute to those who died in the most heinous attack ever on American soil.  More than 2,400 Americans and hundreds of foreigners died as the World Trade Center crumbled.  They were not soldiers.  They were moms and dads and Little League coaches and church volunteers and neighbors who would help you out of a jam.  On that day, they became unwitting victims of a war in which they had no defense.  We cannot fathom the grief of their families.

But out of that rubble, something emerged.  A new American spirit was born that day, a new patriotism.  New leaders stepped to the fore through the smoke and dust.  Through our shared grief, we grew wiser.  We grew more compassionate.  We grew stronger.  

Whether we were American citizens for a day, a week, or all of our lives, we all knew what generations of our heritage had wanted us to hear:  that despite tragedy, or murderous villainy, or the travesties of war, these United States of America and its dedication to freedom and justice will prevail.  So this day stands as two towering pillars of strength, upon which we build a more prosperous democratic republic in which we can give thanks each day for waking up as Americans with an iron will forged in fire and tested in blood.  We will never forget this day.  We will never forget what it means to be an American.