I think it was the highlight of my trip to New York. I was surprised at how raw my emotions were, even 14 years later. It was a solemn experience. I honestly don't think our nation will ever be the same. I hope we never forget what happened there.

The Memorial is very well done. As I went through the timeline exhibit and the memorial rooms where the pictures of those killed are displayed, I felt angry. I wanted to finish the tour with a room dedicated to the death of the men responsible for that terrible act. I wanted to see a display about our Navy Seals doing what they do best, but that room never came. As I thought back on the entire experience, I developed a new respect for the people of New York and the people of this great nation. On the way to Manhattan, my driver was a Muslim from Pakistan. I purchased my ticket to the 9/11 memorial from an Arab man. I don't know what his religion was. While touring the Statue of Liberty, four Muslim men gathered on the lawn just below Lady Liberty and made their afternoon prayers. It was a unique situation watching these four men praying to Allah at the foot of the Statue of Liberty and with World Trade Center One in the background. No one threatened them with violence. No one stopped and stared. In fact, hundreds of people tried to give them room and respect to complete their prayers.

To get to live in a nation where the people can mourn the loss of their dead, but still openly embrace the peaceful practice of religion is nothing short of a miracle. The fact that the memorial doesn't celebrate the death of those terrible men - but celebrates the lives of those who died there says so much about our country. This isn't to say that we shouldn't confront evil wherever it exists - but I left believing even more that defending America isn't about defending a particular group of people, a specific religion, or those of certain races. It is about defending the God-given principles on which this country was founded - and defending them for any who come here.

"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"