This past May, I had the honor of visiting the Flight 93 Memorial in Somerset County, Pennsylvania.
Seventeen years ago, passengers aboard this jet watched as hijackers took control, murdering crew members. The hijackers threatened the passengers, told them a bomb was on board, and (according to reports) locked themselves in the cockpit having dispatched the pilots.
Passengers began calling loved ones – and thus learning about the planes colliding with the Twin Towers in New York City and the Pentagon, just outside of Washington, D.C.
One of the calls ( Burnett Call Transcript ):
"Tom: We’re waiting until we’re over a rural area. We’re going to take back the airplane.
Deena: No! Sit down, be still, be quiet, and don’t draw attention to yourself!
Tom: Deena! If they’re going to crash this plane into the ground, we’re going to have do something!
Deena: What about the authorities?
Tom: We can’t wait for the authorities. I don’t know what they could do anyway.
It’s up to us. I think we can do it.
Deena: What do you want me to do?
Tom: Pray, Deena, just pray.
(after a long pause)
Deena: I love you.
Tom: Don’t worry, we’re going to do something..."
That was passenger Tom Burnett's last words with his wife Deena.
Shortly after that call, passengers stormed the cockpit and caused the plane to crash in a rural portion of Pennsylvania.
Driving to the memorial is truly a two-lane experience – about 90 minutes southwest of Pittsburgh, one finally finds directional signs that lead to a gated drive. Turning off the main road, I drove about 2.5 miles until I found the visitors’ center. The weather was gray, and chilling.
Walking up to the visitor’s center, I saw a National Park Service ranger by what looked like a diorama. Approaching, I stepped onto a black walkway – not in a style I’d seen before.
The ranger greeted me, and showed me that the diorama was a relief of the entire parkland. Then she emotionally punched me in the throat. “The black walkway is Flight 93’s flight path. If you walk up to the glass barrier (300 feet away) you’ll overlook a prairie and see the Memorial Plaza and the Wall of Names. Beyond there, you’ll see a boulder – the site of the impact.”
I walked to the glass barrier. I saw, in the distance, a white marble wall on the same vector as the path. At the end of view, a large boulder. Tears were in my eyes.
Within the visitors’ center, there are well-done displays, video, audio, timelines, maps, too much for my head to absorb. There was a striking exhibit – showing some recovered debris. The largest pieces
were less than two inches across. According the National Park Service: “Flight 93 struck the ground at a 40 degree angle almost upside down, hitting right wing and nose
first, at a speed of between 563-580 miles per hour. It was carrying
approximately 7,000 gallons of Jet A fuel at impact” (https://www.nps.gov/flni/learn/historyculture/sources-and-detailed-information.htm).I drove to the Memorial Plaza and met another Park Service Ranger. He offered guidance – I just wanted to wander alone. There is a long, low wall separating the visitor area from the prairie. Along the wall are small cutout shelves where people still leave memorials (medals, flowers, prayer cards, etc.). Also along the wall you learn that the boulder placed on the impact site is 17 tons and
sandstone. For some odd reason, that was important to know. At the marble wall, the names. Well, the names. Hope this isn’t too much of a downer essay – but I pray we never forget. Thanks
Previous musing: Why today is special
