9/11 memorial tradition passed to a new generation to honor victims

Children of 9/11 victims honor lost relatives by reading names at the annual ceremony, ensuring their stories live on.

Each year on September 11, a poignant phrase echoes through the crowd at ground zero: “I never got to meet you.” 

As the names of nearly 3,000 victims are read aloud, many of the readers are young adults and children who were born after the attacks that forever changed the nation.These children, nieces, nephews, and grandchildren have inherited stories, photos, and a solemn responsibility to keep their loved ones' memories alive.

Last year, 28 young people were among the more than 140 readers at the ceremony, and this year will see similar participation from younger generations.

Some of these readers are the children of victims whose partners were pregnant at the time of the attacks, while others are nieces and nephews who have grown up hearing stories about the family members they never met.

One of these young participants is 13-year-old Allan Aldycki, who has read the names of his grandfather, firefighter Allan Tarasiewicz, and several others over the past two years. 

"It's like you're passing the torch on," he said, expressing the deep connection he feels to his grandfather. Although he never met him, Allan said, “I’ve heard so much about my grandfather that it feels like I knew him, but still, I wish I had a chance to really know you.”

Reciting the names of the dead is a tradition that extends beyond ground zero. 

Memorials around the world honor fallen military members, Holocaust victims, and others by speaking their names aloud. In Oklahoma City, the names of the 168 people killed in the 1995 bombing of a federal building are read annually. 

On September 11, ceremonies at the Pentagon and the Flight 93 National Memorial in Pennsylvania follow similar traditions.

At the 9/11 Memorial in New York, the hourslong observance is dedicated almost exclusively to reading the names of the 2,977 victims from the attacks, along with the six people killed in the 1993 World Trade Center bombing. 

Relatives who volunteer are selected by lottery and given a subset of names to read aloud. 

Many also share personal stories about their lost loved ones, adding an emotional and heartfelt layer to the ceremony.

One such story came from 17-year-old Capri Yarosz, who has twice read the name of her uncle, firefighter Christopher Michael Mozzillo. 

Growing up with stories about her uncle and a baby book dedicated to him, Capri said, “It means a lot to me that I can kind of keep alive my uncle’s name and just keep reading everybody else’s name, so that more of the upcoming generations will know.”

While some families pass the tradition to younger members, others, like Capri’s mother, Pamela Yarosz, struggle to find the strength to participate. “I don’t have that strength. It’s too hard for me,” she said. “They’re braver.”

For young adults like Melissa Tarasiewicz, whose father died in the attacks, the passage of time hasn’t lessened the significance of the day. 

She now watches her son honor his grandfather by reading names at the ceremony, continuing the legacy of remembrance for future generations.