Sept. 11: 10 Years Later
Before Sept. 11, there was April 19 _ when a truck bomb sheared away one side of a federal building in middle America and proved that anyone, anywhere, can be attacked.
A new medical study supports the argument for including cancers on a list of World Trade Center-linked diseases that qualify for assistance under the national Sept. 11 health program, federal lawmakers said Wednesday.
Ten years after the 9/11 attacks destroyed the World Trade Center, an 80-story glass and steel tower is rising like a phoenix from the ashes of ground zero.
Gregory Kamal Bruno Wachtler, 25, New York City, Fred Alger Management, Inc., World Trade Center.
Relatives of passengers and crew members who perished on United Airlines Flight 93 will hold a private funeral and reinterment service for unidentified remains at the crash site the day after the 10th anniversary of the Sept. 11 attacks.
Homeland Security officials are warning the public to beware of email scams and possible cyberattacks related to Hurricane Irene and the upcoming 10th anniversary of the Sept. 11 attacks.
Amid the chaos of the Sept. 11 attacks in 2001, emergency responders found they could not communicate with each other. That problem persists 10 years later, according to a review of the 9/11 Commission's recommendations.
A hidden network of U.S. companies, coordinated by a prominent defense contractor, played a key role in the covert airlift that transported terrorism suspects and their American minders, according to newly disclosed documents in a New York business dispute between two aviation companies.
As the nation prepares for the 10-year anniversary of the 9/11 attacks -- a date al-Qaida has cited as a potential opportunity to strike again -- security is intensifying at airports, train stations, nuclear plants and major sporting arenas around the country.
Matthew Salenger etched 54 phrases in a circular piece of steel, building Arizona's Sept. 11 memorial one story at a time. He wanted everyone's story to be told.
A janitor spots an abandoned diaper bag lying on a table in the sprawling food court at the Mall of America. A bomb-sniffing dog and a security officer are there within minutes, examining the package while nearby shoppers are held a safe distance away.
Brian Tolstyka stood at the edge of a giant American flag spread across several tables in the Veterans Affairs hospital gym. Wearing a leather vest with a flag patch and a hat with a flag pin, Tolstyka was about to stitch his place in history.
People look at some news photos shot on Sept. 11, 2001, and wonder how those who took them could bear to keep working in the face of such tragedy.
Kamaljit Atwal's neighborhood seems like an unlikely place for a hate crime. His street in this Sacramento suburb seems a model of diversity.
Back home, where Rick Sluder is the police chief of a village of 3,000 surrounded by corn and soybean fields, traffic wouldn't be an issue. But this morning, at the helm of a rented 15-passenger van mired in a New York City traffic jam thicker than the summer heat, he's way out of his jurisdiction.
Letters written by Helen Keller. Forty-thousand photographic negatives of John F. Kennedy taken by the president's personal cameraman. Sculptures by Alexander Calder and Auguste Rodin. The 1921 agreement that created the agency that built the World Trade Center.
Bicyclists zoom across the Golden Gate Bridge, wander open walkways on either side and stop for hot coffee at a cafe at the base. A bridge officer cruises by on his patrol bike.
Cardinal Edward Egan was eating breakfast when then-Mayor Rudy Giuliani called to say there was a tragedy and the churchman was needed. A police car would soon be outside the chancery to take the leader of New York's Roman Catholics downtown.
In Dealey Plaza, with the white "X" painted on the spot where President Kennedy was assassinated, ask anyone about the grassy knoll and the second gunman.
He was the living symbol of the Sept. 11, 2001, terror attacks, a hero to a traumatized nation seeking leadership in a time of crisis. Walking miles through the streets of Manhattan, Mayor Rudy Giuliani urged New York and the world to be calm, said the city would survive. With empathy and restraint, he said the number of 9/11 dead would be "more than any of us can bear."