By Charles Henry, Guest Columnist
Today is September 11, 2025. 24 years ago, a self-confident America, flush from a decade of global primacy and convinced we were untouchable, was violently torn from that illusion. It is entirely appropriate and necessary, to remember the lives snuffed out that terrible day – parents, siblings, employees, first responders – ordinary people who, like all of us, did their best every day, who laughed and cried, who loved, who were flawed, but who lived their lives and pursued their dreams until evil men snatched it all away from them. This is the human cost of terrorism, and one need only visit the Flight 93 Memorial to understand: the victims of the 9/11 attacks could have been literally any one of us.
More than two decades later, we understand that the attacks on that fateful day shocked the national psyche to its core. When the Twin Towers crumbled, so too did our signature optimism and our faith in the goodness of others. Our grief hardened into righteous outrage, but after two decades of war, financial collapse, and pandemic upheaval, our trust in institutions has imploded as well. The image of the twin towers is seared forever onto our national conscience, and our paranoia has become a fixture of American public life rather than an aberration. What was once a suspicion of distant enemies has curdled into suspicion of our own neighbors, as we turn our mistrustful eyes on one another.
Today, we are once again in a state of mourning. Yesterday, September 10, saw yet one more in an endless list of mass public shootings at American schools, along with the assassination of Charlie Kirk, a prominent conservative activist known for his open and public debates. These attacks may not match 9/11 in scale, but the human cost of terrorism remains equally as potent today. Just as the passengers on Flight 93 could have been any of us, so too could the students at Evergreen High, or any parent, teacher, or community member who stood in the shooter’s path. And Charlie Kirk, still a young man at the time of his murder, leaves behind a family who will now have to operate without a husband and a father. This violence is always a toxic contagion, but when it is employed against public figures, it also undermines democracy and corrodes public discourse, thereby threatening to destroy the American way of life. To excuse or celebrate Kirk’s assassination, or any of the other recent high-profile assassinations and assassination attempts, is to abandon the very principles of free speech and peaceful debate that hold this country together.
In a nation where violent extremists now radicalize online and in isolation, where public figures routinely come under threat, where members of the public increasingly celebrate the downfall of their “enemies,” and where new types of extremists unbounded by familiar ideological belief structures crop up, the fight against terrorism looks very different today than in the pre-9/11 era. It germinates in bedrooms and online echo chambers here at home, and it is woven into our contemporary social fabric even if it is uncomfortable to admit it. Nonetheless, it is up to all of us, no matter our political precepts, to remember the real cost of violence, to forswear its use against our neighbors, and to stand united in these moments of tragedy, remembrance, and mourning. The American people, by and large, are good and decent. They are idealistic, compassionate, and brave. But sometimes, we have to remind each other to look past petty squabbles and see the bigger picture. We are part of the greatest experiment with self-government in human history, which, at its core, is about allowing each and every person to flourish according to the standards they have chosen for their life. So to honor those who have lost their lives in senseless acts of terrorist violence, choose to make the most of yours. Live with charity, courage, and decency – even toward those with whom you disagree.
Today is September 11, 2025, and today we all must choose to be part of the solution. Nothing less will preserve the America we inherited, or the future we hope to build.
