What happened on September 11, 2001 that made us better people?

On Thursday’s radio program, Glenn poignantly reflected on the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks and asked listeners to think back on where they were 13 years ago. September 12, 2001 is a remarkable day in American history because of the way Americans turned a tragic darkness into a hopeful light. On this September 12, Glenn asked his audience to once again think back to 13 years ago, but this time he also asked people to consider what has changed or been gained since then.

Below is an edited transcript of the monologue:

Today is a very important day for this broadcast and for many of our listeners. Today is 9/12. This is the day that we modeled the 9/12 Project after. Yesterday, we spent the whole day talking about the things that we learned from 9/11 and the things that we feel we have lost. Today is the day that we now would like to look at the things that we have gained.

What happened on 9/11 – and in particular for me, 9/12 – that made us better people? You know, the bad stuff happens to everyone. Every country goes through bad stuff. And here's what I've really been concentrating on lately. We're not Europe. We're not like any other nation. And people have always said that about America. People come from overseas and they say, ‘You guys are so different here. You're so open.’ People come from all over the world and they will always walk away saying, ‘There's something different about Americans. They're so trusting.’ That's because we haven't had the world wars here. That's because we haven't had our own people turn against each other and round them up. Well, I'm sorry. Except for Woodrow Wilson and F.D.R. But, generally speaking, our neighbors don't tell on one another. We're not snitches on each other. We don't spy on each other. That's what made what George W. Bush wanted to do and Barack Obama also wanted to do so wrong. That's not who we are.

I was not a huge fan of the Tea Party's original messaging and mission because the original message and mission was taxes, oppression. And I understand that. But if you remember, what everybody was saying at the time was, ‘What have you lost.’ We were projecting. We knew what was coming. It wasn't hard to read the tealeaves, but most Americans still will say, ‘Oh, what have you really lost?’ We've lost a lot. But the rest of the world has already gone through this. Europe has gone through this over and over and over and over again. We never have. It's why we're so blind to it. But we also choose our responses to things.

I think of Dietrich Bonheoffer an awful lot. I've gone the full circle with Dietrich Bonheoffer. At first, I saw his story and I was inspired by it. Dietrich Bonheoffer is a pastor that lived in Germany in World War II. He was a pacifist, and he stood up for peace. At first, he impressed me. Then I thought: Really, he didn't win. And then I realized, no, actually, he did. I really studied the last part of his life, when he was in prison – in particular, the last few minutes of his life when he got down on his knees in the woods as they're getting ready to hang him. They were hanging people one after another after another.

Imagine, he was on the road to escape. They were freeing him. It was 15 days before Hitler was dead, and they were freeing him. But the car broke down. Here are these prisoners on the side of the road with guards, with really no guns and no place to go. And a concentration camp truck comes by and they're like, ‘Hey, we're taking these prisoners and our truck broke down.’ They're like, ‘You know what? We got a camp up here. We'll just put them in the camp.’ So they weren't released. They were put into another camp.

He shared that cell with a guy who had done all of the medical experiments on the Jews because, in the end, Hitler wanted him dead, too. He was with that that guy and a prostitute – a double agent who was a prostitute. I can't imagine what that Nazi doctor and that prostitute were doing in the cell. Apparently, it was extraordinarily vial. And then sitting in that same cell was Dietrich Bonheoffer. He preached to them. He just spoke of love and peace and kindness. I'm sure they didn't really listen to him very much. They were busy with other things. But he never changed. And when it came his time to be executed, they came for him in the morning, and they took him out into the woods. That's when where they had the hanging platform. And he got down on his knees and he prayed. He wasn't afraid. He was praising. He was giving joy. He was thanking God. He got up on to the scaffolding. They put the noose around his neck, and he thanked the hangman. The guy who pulled the lever said, ‘I'll never forget him. There was something different about him.’

It was the same thing with Viktor Frankl. Viktor Frankl was a guy who was in concentration camps. All I ever pray for is just let me accept Your will. I don't care what it is – if I'm rich, if I'm poor, if I'm free, if I'm in prison, whatever. Just let me know that everything is okay. Everything is gonna be great. I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. Nelson Mandela could have gone into prison, and he could have been more and more bitter every day. But he didn't do that. He chose to change his life. In some ways, he belonged in prison at the beginning. He was a bad guy. His wife, Winnie Mandela, was not a good individual. He could have ripped those people apart when he got out. He could have used anger to get what he wanted. Instead, he chose love.

We all have bad things that happen to us. Something that my father taught me at the bakery was when he lied to me and told me he had bread to make as I was whining to him on the phone. ‘Oh, my life is so tough.’ ‘Yeah, I know. I know it is. Why don't you make a list and call me back tonight. We'll talk about it.’ I didn't realize he was being sarcastic. I didn’t know the life my father had gone through.

My father taught me, make that list. I called him back a couple of minutes later after I looked at that list, and the top of the list was my mom's suicide. ‘Oh, my mom killed herself and it changed my whole life.’ Wait a minute, hang on just a second. Yes, she did. But if my folks wouldn't have gotten a divorce, I wouldn't have moved down with my mother. I wouldn't have started in radio. Then my mom committed suicide, which meant I went back and I lived with my father for a while. And because I did that, I met all my good friends. I met Robert who is my brother. He changed my life. From there, I met other people. And I started working in Seattle. All of these things that I did, I probably would not have done had it not been for my mom’s suicide. So I could wallow, or I could say, ‘Wow, look at what came out of that.’

Life happens. Life sucks a lot. But we can't let it beat us down.

Pat and I have talked many times about, ‘Oh, man, 1970s, those days don't come back. They were simpler times.’ No, they didn't. They sucked. We went from Nixon and Watergate during Vietnam right into Jimmy Carter. We went from the oil crisis to the burning of the helicopters. Those days came right out of the '60s where we had Bill Ayers killing police officers. What are we doing? Those weren't good days. Those were not simpler times.

So what were we thinking? Here's why we look back on those days, whether they were in the '60s, the '70s, the '80s, the '90s, 2002. The reason why we look back at those as simpler days is because we were simpler. We weren't bogged down with the worries of the world. We still had hope that it could change.

Now, what's changed? Has the hope changed? No. We're in the same bad situation that we were in before. Granted, we're dealing with stuff we've never dealt with before. Got it. But why are we hopeless? We're hopeless for this reason: We choose to be. And we choose to be because we think we know.

When you're 20, you thing you’re never gonna die. You just think that you will always be able to go. Unless you are exercising the mind and, especially, the spirit, it ain't gonna work. At some point, it breaks down, and that's what's happening to our society. Our bodies are breaking down because we're eating, and we're not exercising, and we're living the life of Americans. It's not good. Our bodies are breaking down.

Our minds are breaking down because we're no longer challenging them. Political correctness makes it so you don't challenge anything. We should be challenging everything. Question with boldness, even the very existence of God, for if there be a God, He must sure rather have honest questioning over blindfolded fear. Question everything. Question with boldness. Hold to the truth, and speak without fear. And our spirit is atrophying because we are not exercising it. We get tired, and we lose that ability that we had at 20 to bounce back.

When I was 20, I may not have understood everything, but I understood this: It's all going to be fine. It's all going to work out. I'm going to make a difference. That's the thing that we all had. ‘I'm going to make a difference.’ Nobody was 20 years old and thought, ‘I just want to be a guy who's stuck in a cube in an office that nobody really likes.’ Nobody thinks that. That's not what you wanted.

Now, what is it that you wanted? And why? What is standing in your way that stops you? We changed overnight on 9/12. Overnight. That fast. All of a sudden, all of those barriers were gone. All of those beliefs were gone. Everything. We went right back to who we were, real human beings that loved each other. Real human beings that knew the only thing that mattered was our friendship, was our decency, was our humanity, our freedoms.

We don't need a tragedy to change us. But because a tragedy happens, we can choose to wallow in it, or we can – today on 9/12 – say: What have I gained? Who am I? Yesterday, we said to you on the air, ‘Who was I 13 years ago?’ I was a nobody 13 years ago. My job has changed a great deal. Okay. More importantly, I've changed. I've become a much more deeply spiritual person. I've learned so much about American history. I've learned so much. Look at what you've done in the last 13 years. Just do this again in the next 13 years and watch us shine.

In the quiet aftermath of a profound loss, the Christian community mourns the unexpected passing of Dr. Voddie Baucham, a towering figure in evangelical circles. Known for his defense of biblical truth, Baucham, a pastor, author, and theologian, left a legacy on family, faith, and opposing "woke" ideologies in the church. His book Fault Lines challenged believers to prioritize Scripture over cultural trends. Glenn had Voddie on the show several times, where they discussed progressive influences in Christianity, debunked myths of “Christian nationalism,” and urged hope amid hostility.

The shock of Baucham's death has deeply affected his family. Grieving, they remain hopeful in Christ, with his wife, Bridget, now facing the task of resettling in the US without him. Their planned move from Lusaka, Zambia, was disrupted when their home sale fell through last December, resulting in temporary Airbnb accommodations, but they have since secured a new home in Cape Coral that requires renovations. To ensure Voddie's family is taken care of, a fundraiser is being held to raise $2 million, which will be invested for ongoing support, allowing Bridget to focus on her family.

We invite readers to contribute prayerfully. If you feel called to support the Bauchams in this time of need, you can click here to donate.

We grieve and pray with hope for the Bauchams.

May Voddie's example inspire us.

Loneliness isn’t just being alone — it’s feeling unseen, unheard, and unimportant, even amid crowds and constant digital chatter.

Loneliness has become an epidemic in America. Millions of people, even when surrounded by others, feel invisible. In tragic irony, we live in an age of unparalleled connectivity, yet too many sit in silence, unseen and unheard.

I’ve been experiencing this firsthand. My children have grown up and moved out. The house that once overflowed with life now echoes with quiet. Moments that once held laughter now hold silence. And in that silence, the mind can play cruel games. It whispers, “You’re forgotten. Your story doesn’t matter.”

We are unique in our gifts, but not in our humanity. Recognizing this shared struggle is how we overcome loneliness.

It’s a lie.

I’ve seen it in others. I remember sitting at Rockefeller Center one winter, watching a woman lace up her ice skates. Her clothing was worn, her bag battered. Yet on the ice, she transformed — elegant, alive, radiant.

Minutes later, she returned to her shoes, merged into the crowd, unnoticed. I’ve thought of her often. She was not alone in her experience. Millions of Americans live unseen, performing acts of quiet heroism every day.

Shared pain makes us human

Loneliness convinces us to retreat, to stay silent, to stop reaching out to others. But connection is essential. Even small gestures — a word of encouragement, a listening ear, a shared meal — are radical acts against isolation.

I’ve learned this personally. Years ago, a caller called me “Mr. Perfect.” I could have deflected, but I chose honesty. I spoke of my alcoholism, my failed marriage, my brokenness. I expected judgment. Instead, I found resonance. People whispered back, “I’m going through the same thing. Thank you for saying it.”

Our pain is universal. Everyone struggles with self-doubt and fear. Everyone feels, at times, like a fraud. We are unique in our gifts, but not in our humanity. Recognizing this shared struggle is how we overcome loneliness.

We were made for connection. We were built for community — for conversation, for touch, for shared purpose. Every time we reach out, every act of courage and compassion punches a hole in the wall of isolation.

You’re not alone

If you’re feeling alone, know this: You are not invisible. You are seen. You matter. And if you’re not struggling, someone you know is. It’s your responsibility to reach out.

Loneliness is not proof of brokenness. It is proof of humanity. It is a call to engage, to bear witness, to connect. The world is different because of the people who choose to act. It is brighter when we refuse to be isolated.

We cannot let silence win. We cannot allow loneliness to dictate our lives. Speak. Reach out. Connect. Share your gifts. By doing so, we remind one another: We are all alike, and yet each of us matters profoundly.

In this moment, in this country, in this world, what we do matters. Loneliness is real, but so is hope. And hope begins with connection.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.


Russell Vought’s secret plan to finally shrink Washington

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Trump’s OMB chief built the plan for this moment: Starve pet programs, force reauthorization, and actually shrink Washington.

The government is shut down again, and the usual panic is back. I even had someone call my house this week to ask if it was safe to fly today. The person was half-joking, half-serious, wondering if planes would “fall out of the sky.”

For the record, the sky isn’t falling — at least not literally. But the chaos in Washington does feel like it. Once again, we’re watching the same old script: a shutdown engineered not by fiscal restraint but by political brinkmanship. And this time, the Democrats are driving the bus.

This shutdown may be inconvenient. But it’s also an opportunity — to stop funding our own destruction, to reset the table, and to remind Congress who actually pays the bills.

Democrats, among other things, are demanding that health care be extended to illegal immigrants. Democratic leadership caved to its radical base, which would rather shut down the government for such left-wing campaign points than compromise. Republicans — shockingly — said no. They refused to rubber-stamp more spending for illegal immigration. For once, they stood their ground.

But if you’ve watched Washington long enough, you know how this story usually ends: a shutdown followed by a deal that spends even more money than before — a continuing resolution kicking the can down the road. Everyone pretends to “win,” but taxpayers always lose.

The Vought effect

This time might be different. Republicans actually hold some cards. The public may blame Democrats — not the media, but the people who feel this in their wallets. Americans don’t like shutdowns, but they like runaway spending and chaos even less.

That’s why you’re hearing so much about Russell Vought, the director of the United States Office of Management and Budget and Donald Trump’s quiet architect of a strategy to use moments like this to shrink the federal bureaucracy. Vought spent four years building a plan for exactly this scenario: firing nonessential workers and forcing reauthorization of pet programs. Trump talks about draining the swamp. Vought draws up the blueprints.

The Democrats and media are threatened by Vought because he is patient, calculated, and understands how to leverage the moment to reverse decades of government bloat. If programs aren’t mandated, cut them. Make Congress fight to bring them back. That’s how you actually drain the swamp.

Predictable meltdowns

Predictably, Democrats are melting down. They’ve shifted their arguments so many times it’s dizzying. Last time, they claimed a shutdown would lead to mass firings. Now, they insist Republicans are firing everyone anyway. It’s the same playbook: Move the goalposts, reframe the narrative, accuse your opponents of cruelty.

We’ve seen this before. Remember the infamous "You lie!” moment in 2009? President Barack Obama promised during his State of the Union that Obamacare wouldn’t cover illegal immigrants. Rep. Joe Wilson (R-S.C.) shouted, “You lie!” and was condemned for breaching decorum.

Several years later, Hillary Clinton’s campaign platform openly promised health care for illegal immigrants. What was once called a “lie” became official policy. And today, Democrats are shutting down the government because they can’t get even more of it.

This is progressivism in action: Deny it, inch toward it, then demand it as a moral imperative. Anyone who resists becomes the villain.

SAUL LOEB / Contributor | Getty Images

Stand firm

This shutdown isn’t just about spending. It’s about whether we’ll keep letting progressives rewrite the rules one crisis at a time. Trump’s plan — to cut what isn’t mandated, force programs into reauthorization, and fight the battle in the courts — is the first real counterpunch to decades of this manipulation.

It’s time to stop pretending. This isn’t about compassion. It’s about control. Progressives know once they normalize government benefits for illegal immigrants, they never roll back. They know Americans forget how it started.

This shutdown may be inconvenient. But it’s also an opportunity — to stop funding our own destruction, to reset the table, and to remind Congress who actually pays the bills. If we don’t take it, we’ll be right back here again, only deeper in debt, with fewer freedoms left to defend.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

Britain says “no work without ID”—a chilling preview for America

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From banking to health care, digital IDs touch every aspect of citizens’ lives, giving the government unprecedented control over everyday actions.

On Friday, British Prime Minister Keir Starmer stood at the podium at the Global Progressive Action Conference in London and made an announcement that should send a chill down the spine of anyone who loves liberty. By the end of this Parliament, he promised, every worker in the U.K. will be required to hold a “free-of-charge” digital ID. Without it, Britons will not be able to work.

No digital ID, no job.

The government is introducing a system that punishes law-abiding citizens by tying their right to work to a government-issued pass.

Starmer framed this as a commonsense response to poverty, climate change, and illegal immigration. He claimed Britain cannot solve these problems without “looking upstream” and tackling root causes. But behind the rhetoric lies a policy that shifts power away from individuals and places it squarely in the hands of government.

Solving the problem they created

This is progressivism in action. Leaders open their borders, invite in mass illegal immigration, and refuse to enforce their own laws. Then, when public frustration boils over, they unveil a prepackaged “solution” — in this case, digital identity — that entrenches government control.

Britain isn’t the first to embrace this system. Switzerland recently approved a digital ID system. Australia already has one. The World Economic Forum has openly pitched digital IDs as the key to accessing everything from health care to bank accounts to travel. And once the infrastructure is in place, digital currency will follow soon after, giving governments the power to track every purchase, approve or block transactions, and dictate where and how you spend your money.

All of your data — your medical history, insurance, banking, food purchases, travel, social media engagement, tax information — would be funneled into a centralized database under government oversight.

The fiction of enforcement

Starmer says this is about cracking down on illegal work. The BBC even pressed him on the point, asking why a mandatory digital ID would stop human traffickers and rogue employers who already ignore national insurance cards. He had no answer.

Bad actors will still break the law. Bosses who pay sweatshop wages under the table will not suddenly check digital IDs. Criminals will not line up to comply. This isn’t about stopping illegal immigration. If it were, the U.K. would simply enforce existing laws, close the loopholes, and deport those working illegally.

Instead, the government is introducing a system that punishes law-abiding citizens by tying their right to work to a government-issued pass.

Control masked as compassion

This is part of an old playbook. Politicians claim their hands are tied and promise that only sweeping new powers will solve the crisis. They selectively enforce laws to maintain the problem, then use the problem to justify expanding control.

If Britain truly wanted to curb illegal immigration, it could. It is an island. The Channel Tunnel has clear entry points. Enforcement is not impossible. But a digital ID allows for something far more valuable to bureaucrats than border security: total oversight of their own citizens.

The American warning

Think digital ID can’t happen here? Think again. The same arguments are already echoing in Washington, D.C. Illegal immigration is out of control. Progressives know voters are angry. When the digital ID pitch arrives, it will be wrapped in patriotic language about fairness, security, and compassion.

But the goal isn’t compassion. It’s control of your movement, your money, your speech, your future.

We don’t need digital IDs to enforce immigration law. We need leaders with the courage to enforce existing law. Until then, digital ID schemes will keep spreading, sold as a cure for the very problems they helped create.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.