Just over a year ago, the families' questions were at least being asked. During May 2002, controversy swirled when CBS News reported that five weeks before the Sept. 11 attacks, Bush had been briefed about an active plot by Osama bin Laden's al-Qaida operatives to seize civilian aircraft. The revelations stood in stark contrast to White House spin in the wake of the Sept. 11 attacks that nobody in the administration or the intelligence community had "specific information" about a possible hijacking plot.

Into that combustible mix came revelations that FBI special agents in Phoenix and Minnesota had warned their superiors about suspected al-Qaida operatives training at U.S. flight schools. For the White House, the "what did Bush know and when did he know it" narrative was its first real political crisis after Sept. 11, the first time the press along with Democrats were asking pointed questions -- and gaining traction by the day. Even the New York Post, usually a reliable White House ally, ran a headline that declared "Bush Knew"; the conservative Weekly Standard warned that "the administration is now in danger of looking as if it has engaged in a cover-up."

But the White House, aided by global circumstances and a distractible news media, conspired to change the subject.

First, a succession of senior administration officials made dire warnings about the certainty of suicide bombers striking inside America. Then, on June 6, 2002, the administration abruptly reversed itself and announced it was backing the creation of the Department of Homeland Security, as first proposed by Democrats. And the White House made the historic announcement the same day FBI agent Colleen Rowley testified before Congress about her famous Minneapolis memo, ensuring that the Department of Homeland Security was the next day's top headline.

Then, by last August, the Capitol was abuzz in talk of war with Iraq, and the buzz persisted for the next nine months. "Iraq changed everything with the press," says one victims' advocate whose wife died in Tower 1. "Nobody cares about this after Iraq."

"It was a successful attempt to change the story," notes John Pike, director of GlobalSecurity.org, a nonprofit defense policy group. "From the White House's perspective, no good can come of these [9/11] investigations. So I think their approach has been entirely predictable, and easy to understand."

Adding insult for some family activists was the fact that Bush used the 9/11 attacks as a justification for the war on Iraq. "I sat and listened to the State of the Union speech [last January] when Bush mentioned 9/11 12 or 13 times," recalls Kristin Breitweiser, whose husband, Ronald, was killed when United Flight 175 slammed into Tower 1. "At the same time, we were having trouble getting funding for the independent commission."

Gabrielle was equally upset: "Bush has never personally met with the [9/11] families to discuss any of this, so for him to use Sept. 11 and its victims to justify his agenda, I myself am disgusted."

In the face of today's public indifference, the victim activists have placed their faith in two investigations they hope will finally answer some key questions. Though the Sept. 11 attacks were arguably one of the decisive moments in U.S. history, both investigations appear mired in a deadly Beltway mixture of bureaucratic morass and political sniping.

The first was a bipartisan joint inquiry conducted by the House and Senate examining intelligence and law-enforcement failures that led up to the Sept. 11 attack. Its relatively narrow scope came about after Bush and Vice President Dick Cheney personally phoned then-Senate Majority Leader Tom Daschle, D-S.D., in late January 2002, pressuring him to limit the congressional investigation surrounding Sept. 11.

Despite budget restraints and complaints from Sen. John McCain, R-Ariz., that the White House had "slow-walked and stonewalled" the joint inquiry, the panel's 900-page report was completed late last year. Today it remains stuck in national security limbo as the joint inquiry staff negotiates with the White House and its intelligence agencies over what portions can and cannot be released in the public version of the report. The release date has already been pushed back several times as the declassification process drags on into its seventh month. Even the Republican chairman of the joint inquiry, Rep. Porter Goss of Florida, a former CIA operations officer, has expressed deep frustration at the pace of the process.

"It appears the joint intelligence committee did too good of a job," quips Breitweiser. Indeed, last fall the New York Times reported that "the findings of a joint committee have been far more damaging than most officials at either agency expected when the panel's inquiry began [in early 2002]." The report is expected to detail disturbing lapses in counterterrorism at the CIA and FBI, where warnings about the Sept. 11 attacks went unheeded. They're revelations that are sure to be uncomfortable for the administration.

"I understand when you have national security issues, that's fine," says Breitweiser. "But I hope [the delay] is about national security issues and it's not about embarrassment. Because for people to be holding up making this nation safe because they fear embarrassment, I don't have any time for that. We need to fix the egregious errors of 9/11."

Raising concerns about the joint inquiry review process was the revelation that the administration wanted some information that had already been made public during open hearings to be reclassified in the joint inquiry report. Also alarming was the news from this spring when former Rep. and current 9/11 commissioner Tim Roemer, an Indiana Democrat, tried to read transcripts from the joint inquiry's closed-door hearings. Even though he had actually served on the joint inquiry a year earlier, Department of Justice attorneys refused to let him read the transcripts, insisting that the White House needed five days to decide whether it wanted to exert executive privilege to keep the information under wraps. The White House eventually relented.

"It was upsetting to find out the White House was trying to block the independent commission's access to the joint inquiry information, when we all know the mandate that created the independent commission states clearly that the commission is to use the joint inquiry as a starting-off point," notes Breitweiser, who also voted for Bush in 2000. "So why would they be blocking access to that?"

Today, the negotiating continues over what gets declassified. "We're making some headway. It's a very long, complicated process. But the public deserves to be told as much as we can tell them about what happened on Sept. 11," reports Eleanor Hill, who directed the joint inquiry staff. Asked whether she's happy with the level of cooperation she's receiving from the administration's intelligence community, Hill responded: "I'll reserve judgment on that."

As Breitweiser noted, the joint inquiry report is supposed to serve as a springboard for the independent 9/11 commission, which is charged with taking a much broader view of the terrorist attack -- everything from border security to immigration. (A classified version of the joint inquiry report has already been made available to the commission.)

Known formally as the National Commission on Terrorist Attacks Upon the United States, the panel has been bogged down by delays in obtaining security clearances, setting guidelines for how the group would handle classified material, and selecting members. The White House first proposed Henry Kissinger to chair the panel, which provoked some bitter complaints. Kissinger eventually withdrew after refusing to make public the list of his consulting clients.

"I would've thought it'd be further along by now," says Gabrielle. "The length of time it's taken to get up and running is astonishing."

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