Michael Lucchese, editor of On America: How to Understand the Legacy of 1776 reflects on 9/11.

As the 25th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks approaches, I am struck once again by the fact that college freshmen matriculating this fall have no memory of the terrible events. Most were born in 2007 or 2008, in the years when discontent with the Iraq War and doubts about America’s mission in the Middle East were at their highest. The “Never Forget” slogan that was a war-cry for their parents has become little more than an admonition for students to recall what they learned at the end of their high school history classes.
Unlike those younger peers, I am old enough to just barely remember the 9/11 attacks. I can recall not only the sense of fear that gripped the adults in my life, but also their noble defiance. The stories of the heroes of Flight 93 and the first responders deeply shaped how I came to think about American citizenship. What I admired the most, and still do, is those who sought to make both the country better as a place and themselves better as people as a way to memorialize.
LOVE, DEATH, AND SERVICE
In the immediate aftermath of the attacks many turned for solace to a World War II-era poem: W.H. Auden’s “September 1, 1939.” Although it written originally to express his horror at Nazi Germany’s invasion of Poland, it was recontextualized and often read, for example, on National Public Radio or in memorial services, almost as a sort of battle cry of liberalism.
One line especially popular in the early 2000s—“We must love one another or die”—perhaps expresses why the tragedy evoked not only outrage and patriotic fervor, but also a real sense of community. Americans were moved by the horrific images coming out of New York, Virginia, and Pennsylvania, and to their credit they wanted to help one another. And as ordinary Americans committed to a new idealism in their personal lives, our political leaders committed to something similar in foreign policy. Compassion, for good or for ill, motivated Americans to stretch beyond themselves.



