Of course I remember the day. I remember every minute from the time I heard the news until I, uh, fell asleep after drinking and watching CNN all day. (It was before I had my current healthy lifestyle.) Everyone remembers. Seems to me that every year when we do all this commemorating, we're putting another feather in the caps of the douchebags who decided, "Hey, we're going to do something so bad they'll be thinking about it for decades."
I don't know what the answer is. Everyone grieves in their own way. I hope the world powers can stop killing people so this kind of thing doesn't happen anywhere in the world again. That probably isn't going to happen. It's all very depressing. Evidently I spend this day every year reflecting on the fact that people are pretty much evil to each other, and we've been that way at least since recorded history (my historian friend regales me with tales of particularly inventive torture and warfare), so probably we'll keep right on being barbaric, only now it costs more. I'm thinking nuclear bomb vs bayonet here.
Anyway. I'm in a mood. I'm going to go take some more cold medicine and brood for a while.