Nation still remembers tragedy; moods shift toward normalcy

   Knight Ridder Newspapers (KRT)-NEW YORK-Grief still lingers in the heart of Manhattan, evident in the flowers tucked into the wire fence encircling Ground Zero or in the hundreds of faded "missing" posters that stretch across the wall of a nearby hospital.
   But across the rest of the nation, Americans have shown signs of moving beyond that horrific day. They haven't forgotten-and never will-but they have settled into a semblance of normalcy while embracing the realities of a frightening new age.
   The shadow of terrorism has become a part of daily life, and Americans are preoccupied with worries over the economy, rising gasoline prices and health care. The fervor that bonded the country in the immediate aftermath of the disaster has hardened and cooled.
   "The country still remains very patriotic," says Carroll Doherty of the Pew Research Center in Washington. "But the idea of rallying around the president and national institutions the way people did in the fall of 2001, that's faded."
   After watching U.S. troops go into combat in Afghanistan and Iraq, Americans appear to be reordering priorities. National polls have shown a significant rise in the percentage of people who say it is more important to focus on economy and jobs than on terrorism.
   The shift in public mood is also illustrated by intense questioning of the U.S.A. Patriot Act, which Congress passed just after 9/11 to give the Justice Department more powers to combat terrorists. Some now describe it as a threat to civil liberties.
   As Americans move further away from "the horrific events of 9/11," says Laura W. Murphy, a Washington lawyer with the American Civil Liberties Union, they feel more comfortable about asking: "Did we go too far, too fast in the aftermath?"
  Murphy's ACLU is leading the challenge to the Patriot Act.
  "In my 25 years of being around Washington," she said, "I have never seen such a shift in public sentiment on a law."
   At the same time, Americans have been permanently reprogrammed to hold the fear of terrorism just below the surface.
   National security has come to define life in many ways.
   Travelers routinely take off their shoes and flash ID cards for screeners posted at the nation's airports. Every American has become accustomed to life in a world of color-coded terror alerts, monitored by a 7-month-old bureaucracy created solely to fend off terrorism: the 170,000-employee Homeland Security Department.
   "If anything, we feel a little more exposed," said Sal Espino, 35, a Fort Worth attorney who now routinely scans crowds for anyone suspicious. "I'm always looking for something unusual. You might say I'm a little bit paranoid."
   Those directly affected by the tragedy have followed divergent paths since the tragedy. Some have found new direction in volunteer work; others are struggling to cope with their emotions.
   Nikki Stern, a New Yorker whose husband was on the 94th floor of the north tower, concedes that most Americans are putting 9/11 behind them, sometimes to the point of showing impatience with those who still grieve. But, she says, the pain is still fresh.
   "It's like yesterday. You never forget it," she said. "It gets smaller, but it takes a long time to get smaller."
   America's emergence from the disaster is like a series of concentric circles. Those furthest away have been able to distance themselves, but at the points of impact, feelings still run deep.
   "Life hasn't resumed to a new normalcy for them," said Douglas A. MacMillan, founder and chief executive officer of the Todd A. Beamer Foundation, named for the passenger who led a revolt against the hijackers over Pennsylvania. "For those who were directly affected by 9/11, it's still a big hurdle."
   Plaques and memorials dot the cityscape across Manhattan, where nearly 2,800 died in the attacks on the World Trade Center.
   At Ground Zero, workers toil in the excavation site that extends six stories below ground. The wire-enclosed site, bedecked with flags, flowers and placards bearing the victims' names, draws throngs of tourists each day, though in fewer numbers than during the months immediately after 9/11.
   A few miles away, hundreds of fading "missing" posters still adorn the brick wall of St. Vincent Hospital, held up by weathered, peeling tape. "Have you seen my daddy," pleads one.
   The groundswell of unity that brought New Yorkers together has tapered off, supplanted by the grittiness of everyday life.
   Firefighters, who with police and paramedics were hailed as the heroes of 9/11, are angered by budget cuts.
   "Morale is very low, probably at an all-time low," said Stephen Cassidy, president of New York City's Uniformed Firefighters Association. "It's devastating."
   Seemingly every company throughout Manhattan displays a memorial to fallen comrades. "Our brothers will never be forgotten," proclaims a plaque at Manhattan's Ladder Co. 5, which lost 11 members. Every few days, women in the neighborhood bring fresh flowers to place underneath the memorial.