L. Mark Weeks | #1 Amazon Bestselling Author

To My Dear American Friends 🇺🇸 My American friends rarely bring up the atomic bombings. But when I spoke of that pain on Japan’s war memorial day, they never turned away. They showed genuine compassion, mourning our tragedy as their own. Remembering tragedy is not the same as holding on to hatred. We must carry not anger, but a shared hope that such suffering never happens again. When we share our pain, memories become a light for the future. Those who try to divide us only strengthen our bond. Our friendship is unbreakable 🇯🇵🤝🇺🇸

I’m Japanese. In 2011, on the day the world watched in shock at the devastation in Japan, America did not look away. Despite the danger, around 24,500 U.S. service members, 24 ships, and 189 aircraft mobilized to help Japan. I will never forget Operation Tomodachi. That’s why, to me, America is more than a friend. America is family. If anything ever happens to you, this time I want to do everything I can to support you. If necessary, I’d even risk my life… Because that’s what family does. 🇯🇵🇺🇸

🇺🇸 To everyone in America, Today is September 11. Twenty five years ago today, America woke up beneath a blue sky that seemed just like any other. Tuesday, September 11, 2001. In New York, people headed to work with coffee in their hands, sent their children off to school, and said, “See you later” to their families. The people boarding airplanes thought they were simply traveling to their destinations. No one knew that morning would forever change American history. 8:46 a.m. Hijacked American Airlines Flight 11 crashed into the North Tower of the World Trade Center in New York City. At first, some believed it might have been an accident. But seventeen minutes later. 9:03 a.m. United Airlines Flight 175 crashed into the South Tower. In that moment, the world understood. This was not an accident. America was under attack. 9:37 a.m. American Airlines Flight 77 crashed into the Pentagon in Arlington, Virginia. It was no longer just New York. Then, at 9:59 a.m. The South Tower collapsed. The enormous building that had stood over New York that morning disappeared from the city skyline. And yet, there were people running toward it. Firefighters. Police officers. Paramedics. While terrified people rushed down the stairs trying to escape, they ran in the opposite direction. Up. Because somewhere above them, someone was still waiting to be saved. 10:03 a.m. Near Shanksville, Pennsylvania. Hijacked United Airlines Flight 93 crashed into the ground. Through phone calls, the passengers had learned what was happening elsewhere. They realized that their plane was also part of the attack. They did not choose to simply sit and wait for the end. They left final words for the people they loved and fought back in an attempt to regain control of the aircraft. 10:28 a.m. The North Tower collapsed. The two symbols of the New York skyline that had stood there that morning were both gone. That day, 2,977 lives were taken. People going to work. People traveling by plane. People who were supposed to return home to their families. Firefighters, police officers, paramedics. And people who stayed behind because someone else needed help. Every one of them had a name. Every one of them had a life. And every one of them had someone somewhere praying, “Please come home.” 🥹 Twenty five years have passed. Morning still comes to the skies above New York. Planes still fly, people still go to work, and children still go to school. But on that morning, someone said “See you later” without knowing it would be the last time. Someone said “I love you” without knowing it would be the last time. And there were people who, despite the danger to themselves, walked into fire and smoke to save someone they had never met. 😭 So today, I do not want to remember them simply as a number. Not 2,977. But 2,977 lives. 2,977 families. 2,977 stories. And all those who have carried the pain of that day with them for the past twenty five years. From Japan, I pray for you. 🇯🇵🇺🇸 For every person who lost their life. For every family who lost someone they loved. And for everyone who ran toward danger that day to save another human being. Twenty five years have passed. But no matter how much time goes by, we will remember that every person who left home that morning had a life. That someone was waiting for them to come home. And that until their final moments, there were people loving someone and trying to protect someone. We will never forget them. 🥹 Today, September 11, I offer my deepest prayers for the 2,977 lives lost. 🕯️ September 11, 2001. Never Forget. 🇺🇸