America Reflects on 9-11, Two Years Later
      September 11, 2003 6:17 PM EST
      By: Larry McShane
      Associated Press

      NEW YORK (AP) - Two by two they stepped forward
      at ground zero Thursday, the sons and daughters,
      nieces and nephews, grandsons and granddaughters
      of the Sept. 11 victims, mournfully reciting the 2,792
      names of the World Trade Center dead.

      "My mother and my hero," 13-year-old Brian Terzian
      said after reading the name of his mother,
      Stephanie McKenna. "We love you."

      For a second straight year, the nation paused on a
      bright September morning to recall the day when
      hijacked jetliners slammed into the World Trade Center,
      the Pentagon and a field in Pennsylvania, killing more
      than 3,000 people in the worst terrorist attack in U.S. history.

      In New York, 200 children led the mourning, showing
      extraordinary poise as they read the enormous list of
      victims for 2 1/2 hours. Church bells tolled at the moment
      hijacked Flight 93 crashed near Shanksville, Pa.
      A moment of silence was observed at the Pentagon for
      the 184 victims there. And President Bush stood in
      silence on the White House lawn.

      "We remember the heroic deeds," Bush said. "We
      remember the compassion, the decency of our fellow
      citizens on that terrible day. We pray for the husbands
      and wives, the moms and dads, and the sons and
      daughters and loved ones."

      The ceremonies came as the federal government warned
      of possible al-Qaida attacks against Americans overseas
      in connection with the anniversary. An Osama bin Laden
      videotape emerged a day earlier, but U.S. officials sought
      to downplay its relevance.

      The relatives at ground zero appeared in various sad
      permutations: Police Sgt. Michael Curtin was represented
      by his three daughters, Jennifer, 17, Erica, 15, and Heather,
      13. Kristen Canillas, 12, stood alongside 8-year-old
      Christopher Cardinali; both had lost a grandparent.

      "I love you and I miss you," Kristen said after reciting
      the name of her grandfather, Anthony Luparello.

      The children - the youngest was 7 - offered poignant
      messages to their lost loves ones, their emotions laid
      bare before a crowd that held aloft pictures of the victims,
      dabbed tears from their eyes, and laid flowers in temporary
      reflecting pools representing the towers.

      The two years since the attack seemed to disappear
      as speakers surrendered to their emotions.

      "My daddy, Gerard Rod Coppola," said Angela Coppola,
      20, her voice cracking. "Your light still shines."

      Brannon Burke, 13, and her 10-year-old sister Kyleen
      wore matching blue Engine Co. 21 sweatshirts with buttons
      bearing the face of fire Capt. William Burke Jr.
      their beloved Uncle Billy, a second-generation firefighter.

      "It's heartbreaking and it's heartwarming when you hear
      them say, 'My father, my mother, my aunt,'" said Betsy Parks
      of Bayonne, N.J., whose brother Robert was killed.
      "What's amazing is the strength and resilience."

      Some family members used their hands to scoop up dirt
      from the site as a keepsake, slipping it into bags and empty
      water bottles. For many, it may provide the only link to their
      lost relatives; authorities estimate the remains of as many
      as 1,000 victims may never be identified.

      The crowd of thousands observed a moment of silence
      at 8:46 a.m., the time the first plane slammed into the north tower.

      At sunset, two light beams pointing skyward were to
      be switched on, evoking the image of the twin towers.

      The remembrance extended far beyond lower Manhattan.
      Firefighters in Chicago joined in the moment of silence,
      while bells tolled in Milwaukee.

      Defense Secretary Donald H. Rumsfeld presided over a
      ceremony at the Pentagon and attended a wreath-laying at
      nearby Arlington National Cemetery. Solicitor General Ted Olson,
      whose wife, Barbara, died in the attack, told Justice Department
      employees that an unrelenting fight against terrorism is the best
      way to honor the memory of those who died.

      "Their suffering and deaths must fuel our dedication to stamp
      out this cancer," Olson said.

      In rural Pennsylvania, church bells began tolling solemnly
      shortly after 10 a.m. to mark the moment Flight 93 crashed.
      The plane was believed to be headed to the nation's capital;
      it went down as the passengers fought back against the hijackers.

      "I feel incredibly proud for what my nephew did and those
      brave souls and what a difference they made," said
      Candyce Hoglan, whose nephew Mark Bingham was among
      the passengers. "They prevented those monsters from continuing
      on with their plan."

      For a second straight year, family and friends of the 658
      Cantor Fitzgerald employees killed in the trade center attack
      gathered in Central Park for a memorial service.
      The group met beneath a white tent festooned with an American flag.

      Some families of the 700 New Jersey victims in the trade center
      attended ceremonies in their home state, including the unveiling
      of black marble monuments for the 37 residents of Middletown, N.J.,
      killed by the terrorists.

      "It's not easy today," said Rose Marie D'Amato, whose sister was
      working on the 94th floor of the north tower. "I felt like I wanted to
      be here, and I wanted to be in New York. We never recovered
      any body remains."

      In Manhattan, the footprint of the trade center's north tower
      was outlined by a 4-foot fence draped with banners bearing
      drawings and messages painted by children of the victims.

      "I remember riding on daddy's shoulders," read the message
      from 4-year-old Maggie Murphy, written between a picture of
      flowers and the two towers.

      Family members of victims walked down a ramp into the pit of
      the site. Some knelt to touch the trade center's bedrock;
      others hugged or wept.

      Joan Molinaro, the mother of late firefighter Carl Molinaro,
      spoke for all the parents who had lost their children.

      "I feel your hand leave mine," Molinaro said, reading from a
      poem she had written. "I feel that warm gentle kiss and wake
      to the tears on my cheek.

      "My baby boy is gone."





      Click Logo Below - Return To Main Menu

      CLICK HERE - KLIK HIER




    Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

    1