Children recite names of dead in N.Y. ceremony

NEW YORK — Two by two they stepped forward at ground zero Thursday, the sons and daughters, nieces and nephews, grandsons and granddaughters of the Sept. 11 victims, mournfully reciting the 2,792 names of the World Trade Center dead.

"My mother and my hero," 13-year-old Brian Terzian said after reading the name of his mother, Stephanie McKenna. "We love you."

For a second straight year, the nation paused on a bright September morning to recall the day when hijacked jetliners slammed into the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and a field in Pennsylvania, killing more than 3,000 people in the worst terrorist attack in U.S. history.

Across the world, people and governments marked the anniversary with prayers, promises to continue fighting terrorism, and reflections on the changes that have been wrought internationally.

In New York, 200 children led the mourning, showing extraordinary poise as they read the enormous list of victims for 2 1/2 hours. Church bells tolled at the moment hijacked Flight 93 crashed near Shanksville, Pa. A moment of silence was observed at the Pentagon for the 184 victims there. And President Bush stood in silence on the White House lawn.

"We remember the heroic deeds," Bush said. "We remember the compassion, the decency of our fellow citizens on that terrible day. We pray for the husbands and wives, the moms and dads, and the sons and daughters and loved ones."

The ceremonies came as the federal government warned of possible al-Qaida attacks against Americans overseas in connection with the anniversary. An Osama bin Laden videotape emerged a day earlier, but U.S. officials sought to downplay its relevance.

The relatives at ground zero appeared in various sad permutations: Police Sgt. Michael Curtin was represented by his three daughters, Jennifer, 17, Erica, 15, and Heather, 13. Kristen Canillas, 12, stood alongside 8-year-old Christopher Cardinali; both had lost a grandparent.

"I love you and I miss you," Kristen said after reciting the name of her grandfather, Anthony Luparello.

The children — the youngest was 7 — offered poignant messages to their lost loved ones, their emotions laid bare before a crowd that held aloft pictures of the victims, dabbed tears from their eyes, and laid flowers in temporary reflecting pools representing the towers.

The two years since the attack seemed to disappear as speakers surrendered to their emotions.