Wendy's trip log: Flight 93 National Monument (And Bradford PA)

Bradford, PA

Jan. 27th-Jan. 28th 2022

The 2001 terrorist attacks on the United States was the closest thing in my lifetime to what it must feel like to be living in a time of war in my own country. This dreadful event in our history will certainly never be forgotten. In my own memory of that day and the days that followed, I was in shock. We all were. I held my love ones tighter and reviewed what was really important in my life. Simpler things, like my children's voices, time taken with friends and still moments of reflection were much more important then what had been. I think we loose that feeling as our lives move on. On this day, I was brought back to those moments in time and humbled by the thought that every second we are given is a gift. I need to learn to embrace that.

There is nothing "happy" about this National memorial park, a place that would have no purpose before the events that had conspired on Sept. 11 2001. My reason for being here was to remember, to learn and to never forget.

My friend Kelly and I had taken this road trip into PA in Jan. to get away from the winter blahs, reconnect with what is important and fill in the gaps of our history. When we remember that day, our minds first flood to the burning towers ripped through by planes, the falling of those towers and the smoke that trailed on for days after. We often forget the failed attempt of flight 93 that for not of the 40 brave Americans who had acted that day prevented an even larger tragedy. Today, we would remember them.

I can not imagine what it must have been like to be these people. They had all known. There was no surprise. Death was to come. Hope was their only sustainability. Perhaps, they could stop this. perhaps they could change their fate and overtake the terrorists. Perhaps their actions could prevent another suicidal plane plunge, saving both themselves and the lives of others. It was a risk they had to take.

It was a risk that, although it did not save them, it may have very well saved hundreds of others. It is believed that the flights intended target was the Capitol building. (Although we thankfully will never know for sure.)

We had toured the interior museum and this aided in our understanding of the attacks that day. I was not aware of how much flight activity a usual day has in the United States. The attacks happened so suddenly and unexpected that no one truly knew what was happening. This flight however became full aware by the many phone contacts that were made while the hijackers were taking over the plane. One part of the exhibit had recorded phone calls from some of those individuals. This had to be the most difficult part of the experience. To listen to the voices of these people. To hear the fear in their goodbyes was chilling. To think that these individuals had gotten up that day fully expecting to be in San Fransico by late morning, spending time with family/friends, attending a work project, taking a vacation.

Of course no one knows the exact facts of what had happened during the hijack and the passengers decisions to take back the plane, but it is concluded that 4 hijackers had instructed the passengers to the rear of the plane at which point they took over the cockpit. It is believed that at least one of the pilots had been killed. While the passengers remained in fear in the rear of the plane, many made phone calls to their loved ones only to find that other planes had been hijacked and that this may indeed be a terrorist attack. At some point a decision was made by the passengers to take back the plane. It is assumed that they charged the cockpit and it is then that the plane was out of control and began its descent into this PA field. It is not clear on if one of the hijackers had forced the plane down, but it is for sure that a struggle took place. The plane actually flipped over and slammed into the ground upside down, nose first.

The experience is surreal. I walked along the memorial which passes the field where the plane went down. In the snow, someone had written; NEVER FORGET. Just beyond the snow covered walkway lays a bolder indicating where the plane and those 44 (4 were the terrorists) had crashed.

Above the bolder the sun gleaned in the skies as the clouds swirled by. It was difficult to appreciate such a beautiful day, but I found myself smiling as I needed to block out the sun from my eyes.

Just at the bottom of the hill stands the memorial wall. The names of those 40 hero's, as that is indeed what they were, are etched in the stone.

Individuals, just like you and me. Mothers, daughters, spouse, brothers, sons. People who had lives. Innocent individuals just doing their day, like any other day. The experience really makes one think about the significance of my own life.

This sculpture is called the Tower of Echo's. It stands as a memorial to those brave individuals on that plane that day. It was built to create a chiming effect when the wind blows just right. There was a little wind, enough for me to get a small chiming sound as I gazed at its beauty.

It seemed as if the tower was playing with me, as it chimed every time I started to walk away. I would quick look back and the chime would cease. Was this the worlds way of reminding me to slow down? Stop and spend a moment in time just being in that moment, taking an appreciation of what I have now? I would halt and stare up into the strong steal structure. "Come again..."I said, "are you calling to me?" The sculpture was silent.

As we drove off from this place, I silently said a prayer and a thank you. I also took a moment to take inventory of my own blessings. Hold tightly to my loved ones, and reflect in the moments I have in the today.