IPK13. 💙🇺🇸🍀

[Zack Peter @zackpeter]

The holdout juror has been revealed! Not only is he black (on an all white jury) but he may have also been GAY?! Yikes, the Clancies must be losing it.

Trump pardon, then Patrick conspiracies getting dismissed, now THIS?! 😆

[Johnny Midnight ⚡️ @its_The_Dr]

Remember when Sammy Sosa was running with the flag after 9-11, Still gives me Chills, the Spirit and the love that came from something so Tragic on 9-11.

[Warren @swd2]

Brian David Sweeney, 39, a passenger on Flight 175, left a voicemail for his wife Julie four minutes before the plane crashed into the World Trade Center's South Tower.

"Jules, this is Brian. Listen, I'm on an airplane that's been hijacked. If things don't go well, and it's not looking good, I just want you to know I absolutely love you," he said.

"I want you to do good, go have good times. Same to my parents and everybody and I just totally love you and I'll see you when you get there."

[Benny Johnson @bennyjohnson]

Zohran Mamdani and AOC Caught LAUGHING on Camera While The Names of 9/11 Victims Are Read

3,000 Americans died that day and they’re smiling and joking.

They don’t even pretend to care anymore.

What a disgrace.

[Spencer Pratt @spencerpratt]

3,000 people may have died on 9/11, but that’s not the actual death toll. Nearly 10,000 died from 9/11, as the heroic rescuers continue to die from cancers they’ve endured as a direct result of the wreckage from the muslim terror attack 25 years ago. 9/11 hasn’t forgot about us.

[Spencer Pratt @spencerpratt]

25 years ago, today…we learned what “globalize the intifada” means.

Seems we’ve forgotten.

[College Sports Only @CSOonX]

25 years ago today, former Boston College lacrosse player Welles Crowther was a 24-year-old rookie equities trader in the South Tower of the World Trade Center.

"The Man In The Red Bandana" used his trademark bandana to cover his face against the smoke and saved the lives of 18 people on September 11th.

A true American hero. 🇺🇸

[🔥Red🔥 @mcucolo57]

Today, among thousands of people crossing the Mackinac Bridge, I watched two firefighters in full gear running that bridge carrying flags.✨🇺🇸✨
And something about it hit me differently.
Carrying the weight of their gear, carrying those flags and carrying something much bigger than either.
A reminder, there are people who willingly carry heavy things so the rest of us don't have to.
It honestly did something to my heart.
We get so caught up in arguing,
complaining, judging, and worrying about things that won't matter someday.

[College Sports Only @CSOonX]

Todd Beamer was the passenger on United Airlines Flight 93 who rallied fellow passengers to fight back against the 9/11 hijackers with the phrase "Let's roll" and stopped it from reaching Washington, DC.

This is his daughter, Morgan, who was born 4 months after his death and went on to play women's soccer at his alma mater, Wheaton College.

Imagine how proud he would be. 🇺🇸 #neverforget

[Mila Joy @Milajoy]

Remembering Jeremy Glick.

He was 31, a judo champion, a rugby captain, a new father.

He married his high-school sweetheart, Lyz.

Their daughter, Emerson, was twelve weeks old.

He was supposed to fly the day before.

On September 11, 2001, he boarded United Flight 93 in Newark.

After the hijacking he called Lyz.

He asked if it was true that planes had been flown into the World Trade Center.

She told him it was.

He understood then what the plane was being used for.

He told her the passengers were voting on whether to rush the cockpit.

He joked about butter knives.

She told him he needed to do it.

He said he loved her.

He told her not to be sad.

He told her to take care of their daughter, and that he would be all right with whatever choices she made.

Then he said they were going to rush the hijackers.

Stay on the line, he said.

I’ll be back.

He did not come back.

The plane went down in a Pennsylvania field. The Capitol was never hit.

He was a take-charge guy, his family said. In the last minutes of his life he made sure his wife knew he loved them, and then he went forward.

Say his name today.

[Farm Girl Carrie™️👩‍🌾 @FarmGirlCarrie]

God bless the firefighters and first responders who ran towards the danger and did not shy away from it.

We Remember 🙏♥️🇺🇸

[Amy Mek @AmyMek]

The jumpers started at 8:46.

Networks had the tape. They hid Americans choosing the air over the fire.

Then they spent 25 years treating the word Islam like a crime. The footage was “too graphic.” The truth was forbidden.

This day is stamped in my heart forever...

[Patricia Heaton @PatriciaHeaton]

25 years later and it still brings me to tears. A decision was made by media during that time not to show people choosing death by jumping, but we now must be reminded of the evil we are still fighting today. Watch and remember. Devastating.

[End Wokeness @EndWokeness]

This just aired on CBS Boston:

A female 4th juror comes forward and says the other jurors were pushing to acquit on *DAY 1*

She changed from guilty to not guilty

[Eric Daugherty @EricLDaugh]

🚨 UPDATE: A new poll just found that Americans by a +25 point margin believe Lindsay Clancy is guilty of M*RDER — but Democrats are near evenly split, 34% saying "guilty" while 31% say "not guilty"

Republicans? 61% GUILTY, 13% not guilty

Nationwide, the margin is 46% to convict and 21% not guilty.

This is absolutely a huge issue...A THIRD OF A MAJOR POLITICAL PARTY thinks a KlLLER shouldn't face consequences

We're now at the point where wanting to convict for m*rder is a partisan issue.

Poll: YouGov

[Matt Van Swol @mattvanswol]

I'm sorry...

...but HOW ON EARTH are we supposed to trust a "jury of one's peers" after seeing these Lindsey Clancy juror interviews?

These people are crazy and evil.

I'm having a hard time getting over the fact that these people exist in society, let alone are on ANY jury.

[Steve Clemans @Steve09812]

His mother thought his final words were, “I’m okay.” She did not learn until months later that after saying them, her 24-year-old son kept going back upstairs to save strangers.
Welles Crowther was never preparing to become a hero.
He was preparing to build a life.
Born on May 17, 1977, in Nyack, New York, Welles was the oldest of three children, with two younger sisters, Honor and Paige. When he was only six years old, his father Jefferson gave him a red bandana and told him to keep it in his back pocket, just in case.
Welles kept carrying it.
Nobody could have imagined that one day, a simple piece of red cloth given from a father to his little boy would become one of the most unforgettable symbols of September 11.
At sixteen, Welles joined a volunteer fire company near his hometown. He loved being a firefighter, but adulthood eventually carried him toward another career. He attended Boston College, played lacrosse, studied economics, and later became an equities trader.
His office was on the 104th floor of the South Tower of the World Trade Center.
He wore business clothes to work.
But somewhere inside him, the firefighter had never disappeared.
On the morning of September 11, 2001, United Airlines Flight 175 struck the South Tower between the 77th and 85th floors.
Nine minutes later, Welles called his mother.
She did not answer.
So, he left a voicemail.
“Mom, this is Welles. I wanted you to know that I’m okay.”
Those were the final words his mother would ever hear in her son’s voice.
But Welles was not okay.
And instead of spending his remaining time trying only to save himself, he began giving that time away to other people.
He reached the devastated 78th floor sky lobby.
People were injured.
Smoke surrounded them.
Some were badly burned.
Others could barely stand.
Many did not know whether there was any way out.
Then through that smoke came a young man wearing a white shirt.
The red bandana his father had given him years earlier was now tied across his mouth and nose.
Welles found a usable stairwell.
And he took control.
He told people who could stand to get up.
He told those who were able to help the injured.
He began leading strangers toward safety.
Then he saw a badly burned woman who could not make the journey herself.
Welles put her on his back.
He carried her down seventeen floors.
Imagine the weight.
Imagine the heat.
Imagine the smoke.
Imagine knowing your own mother was somewhere believing you were safe.
Welles reached relative safety with the woman.
He could have kept going down.
He could have gone home.
He could have survived.
Instead, he turned around.
He went back up.
On the 78th floor, he found more people.
Among them was a woman suffering from a broken arm, cracked ribs, and a punctured lung.
Welles remained calm.
“Everyone who can stand, stand now. If you can help others, do so.”
He led another group down.
And then he turned around again.
He went back up a third time.
That is the part of his story that almost hurts too much to imagine.
Every trip downward brought Welles closer to life.
Every decision to turn around carried him back toward danger.
Once would have been courage.
Twice would have been extraordinary.
Welles kept going.
At 9:59 that morning, the South Tower collapsed.
Welles Crowther never came back down.
For months, his family knew only that he was gone.
They did not know what his final hour had looked like.
His mother knew only the voicemail.
“I’m okay.”
She did not know that after leaving those words, her son had been carrying injured strangers through smoke.
She did not know that terrified survivors had been following his voice.
She did not know that the little red bandana his father gave him when he was six years old had become the one detail people remembered about the mysterious stranger who kept coming back for them.
Then survivors began telling their stories.
They spoke about a calm young man.
A white shirt.
A red bandana.
Welles’s mother read one of those accounts.
And somehow, a mother knew.
She showed survivors photographs of her son.
They recognized him.
The nameless man who had appeared through the smoke finally had a name.
Welles Crowther.
Her Welles.
The boy she had raised.
The son who had called to tell her not to worry.
The young man who had spent his final hour making sure other mothers might get their children back.
On March 19, 2002, Welles’s body was recovered from the South Tower lobby area alongside firefighters who had also remained behind to help.
He was only 24.
Later, survivors credited him with helping save many lives, with some estimates reaching as high as eighteen.
And then his family discovered something else.
Inside Welles’s apartment was an unfinished application to become a professional firefighter.
He had apparently been considering leaving Wall Street and returning to the calling he had loved since he was a teenager.
He never got the chance.
In 2006, New York City named Welles an honorary member of the FDNY.
Perhaps no title could have suited him better.
Because when September 11 stripped away everything else, the stockbroker disappeared.
The firefighter remained.
Today, people remember him as the Man in the Red Bandana.
But to his mother, he was still the son whose last message said he was okay.
To his father, he was still the little boy who had once accepted a red bandana and put it in his pocket.
To his sisters, he was still their big brother.
And to the strangers who walked out of that tower because Welles kept going back, he became the reason they were given more birthdays, more Christmas mornings, more hugs, more ordinary Tuesdays.
Welles Crowther was 24 years old.
He had an entire life waiting below him.
And every time he reached a path toward that life, he turned around because somebody else was still above him.
The red bandana began as a gift from a father to his six-year-old son.
On September 11, it became the last thing frightened strangers saw before that son led them toward home.
Rest peacefully, Welles.
Your mother heard you say you were okay.
She later learned something even greater.
You were making sure other people would be okay too.

[Kentucky Girl @Kentuckygirl1]

These horrible women said the Lone Juror just couldn’t get past Lindsay Clancy strangling her 3 children to death.

Yeah.

Neither can most of us.

[🎹 Ames™ 🎹 @AmesStraight]

Today, there should have been 28 candles on Dana Falkenberg’s birthday cake.

Instead, there is a white rose beside her name at the 9/11 Memorial. 🤍

Dana was just three years old on September 11, 2001.

She was a little girl who loved dressing like a princess and sleeping beside her favorite stuffed lamb, Lambie. Her life revolved around the things a three-year-old’s life should revolve around—her family, her sister Zoe, toys, imagination and being loved.

That morning, Dana boarded American Airlines Flight 77 with her parents, Charles Falkenberg and Leslie Whittington, and her older sister, Zoe.

They were beginning a family journey that was supposed to eventually take them to Australia.

Dana probably couldn't have understood how far away Australia was. She only knew she was going somewhere with Mommy, Daddy and her big sister.

They never arrived.

Flight 77 was hijacked and crashed into the Pentagon.

Dana was three years old when she was murdered on 9/11.

And sometimes that number—three—says more than anything else possibly could.

She never walked into kindergarten carrying a backpack.

Never learned to drive.

Never graduated from high school.

Never celebrated her Sweet 16.

Never turned 21.

And today, she never got to turn 28.

We don't know what Dana would have looked like as a grown woman, what career she might have chosen, whom she might have loved, or what dreams she would have chased.

Terrorism stole the answers to all of those questions.

But it did not steal her name.

Today, a white rose reminds everyone who passes that memorial that Dana Falkenberg was more than the youngest passenger aboard Flight 77.

She was somebody's little girl.

Somebody's baby sister.

A princess-loving three-year-old with a stuffed lamb beside her at night and an entire lifetime waiting in front of her.

Happy heavenly 28th birthday, Dana. 🎂🤍🕊️

You deserved 28 candles today.

You deserved every single year between three and twenty-eight.

Twenty-five years later, America still remembers your name.

Dana Falkenberg.

Forever three.
Forever part of our history.
Forever remembered. 🇺🇸💔

[Thrilla the Gorilla @ThrillaRilla369]

This should make you angry.
This is Bonnie Pierce, a 38-year-old mother of three from St. Paul, Minnesota. Her house caught fire. She and two of her children escaped, then realized her toddler was still inside.
Bonnie went back in, found the child, but could not get out. She shielded the child with her body. She died from her burns. The child survived.
A GoFundMe for her family raised about $42,000.
By comparison, more than $1,000,000 was raised on GoFundMe for Lindsay Clancy, who was charged with killing her children.
It is a sad reflection of the society we have become.
RIP Bonnie.