“Never Forget” has to mean more than remembering the date. But also - never forget why it happened. We do no honor to the dead by remembering their deaths while becoming too uncomfortable to remember the hatred that killed them. A hatred that wants to kill or convert every single one of us. I grew up with kids who were missing fathers and uncles. We all knew which family friends came home covered in ash. One of my neighbors came home late that night, but she never really seemed to come home. Remember the Americans who fought until the end, who stormed the cockpits, the first responders who ran through the tunnels on their days off, the firefighters who climbed while everyone else descended. Remember the Americans who had to choose between burning to death or jumping to it. Remember the Americans who searched through the toxic rubble and who rebuilt the city out of the ashes. Our responsibility is not merely to remember them. It is to be worthy of them. Worthy of being Americans. Worthy of being New Yorkers. Worthy of the people who climbed those stairs and the people who never came home. Remember what happened. Remember why. That is what it means to Never Forget.