The memorial's design speaks in literal beams of light. A flat inclined metal ring, inscribed with words cut entirely through the steel, allows the Arizona sun to project statements onto the concrete base below. As the sun moves, different phrases illuminate at different times, creating a meditation that shifts with the hours. The circle shape represents the unity Americans felt in the immediate aftermath of the attacks. Design team member Eddie Jones articulated the memorial's unflinching approach: the attacks gave America 'a sense of what the rest of the world is feeling, sometimes on a daily basis.' This was never meant to be a simple tribute. It was meant to be a mirror.

Within days of the memorial's unveiling, Arizona became a battleground over memory itself. Some inscriptions recorded uncomfortable truths: 'Erroneous U.S. Airstrike Kills 46 Uruzgan Civilians,' 'Congress Questions Why CIA and FBI Didn't Prevent Attacks,' 'You Don't Win Battles of Terrorism With More Battles.' Critics called it anti-American. Gubernatorial candidate Len Munsil demanded it be torn down, launching his campaign from the site itself. He lost the subsequent election to incumbent Janet Napolitano by a 63 to 35 margin. Yet the controversy did not end with that vote. The memorial also contains pro-military statements, personal rescue stories, and a complete timeline of the attacks. Joseph Manny, visiting the site, ran his hand along the concrete where phrases glowed in reflected light: 'There is nothing detrimental here. This is just what was going on in America in this reality at that time.'

No public funds built this memorial. The Phoenix firefighters' union, the city of Phoenix, Bank of America, and private donors created it. Families of 9/11 victims endorsed it. Governor Napolitano called it 'unique, bold, dynamic, educational and unforgettable.' The diverse inscriptions were chosen specifically to capture how different Arizonans processed the tragedy - not to judge those reactions, but to preserve them. When the state legislature passed a bill to remove eleven inscriptions, Republican Governor Jan Brewer vetoed it. In her veto message, she acknowledged the Arizona families affected by 9/11: 'For their sake, I am sorry this issue has reared its head once more.' The Memorial Commission eventually removed two statements and added President George W. Bush's name, along with a new introductory plaque providing context.

The memorial sits within Wesley Bolin Memorial Plaza, a seventeen-acre park adjacent to the Arizona State Capitol. The plaza holds numerous monuments, but the 9/11 memorial remains singular in its approach - treating memory not as a single narrative but as a chorus of American voices from a moment of trauma. Some came to the memorial expecting comfort and found confrontation. Others found exactly what they needed: acknowledgment that their complicated feelings about that day, and what followed, were shared by their neighbors. The words remain cut through metal, waiting for light to give them voice again each morning.