Transitions

On this Veterans Day, November 11, I find myself reflecting on a very special day one year age when I had the honor and pleasure to remember some very courageous people who on a beautiful fall day in September 2001, helped to save our nation’s capital from being destroyed by terrorist who wanted to cripple our beloved country. 

I was in Pittsburg, Pennsylvania to celebrate the wedding of my dear friend Lori to her love Martino.  While my finance, Don and I were there, we were also getting together with an old college friend, Dan and his wife Anne who live about an hour outside of Pittsburg in Somerset, Pennsylvania.  We met Dan at his work and he said he wanted to show us the countryside and then we would head to his home for dinner.  Little did I know that Dan was taking us to the memorial site of where Flight 93 went down in Shanksville, Pennsylvania.  

Our first stop was at a small country church where a memorial had been made honoring all those on board Flight 93.  Dan told us that the church was where the families gathered while they waited for news of their loved ones and found solace in others who were there with them.

I thought this was a very moving and a beautiful tribute to our heroic countrymen and women.  Nothing could prepare me for the raw emotions we felt as we journeyed to the field where the plane went down.  I could feel the sacredness of the ground we were entering.  I had often heard of sacred burial grounds, and now I was experiencing this very moving experience firsthand.  We could not go down to the crash site as that is truly considered Hallowed Ground, and is not to be disturbed. 

The sun was beginning to go down as we stepped out of the car and into the cold, blustery autumn air, but I did not feel the cold.  My heart was so moved by the makeshift tribute to our fellow Americans.  There was a small sign that just said “In Remembrance, September 11, 2001, New York, NY, Washington, D.C., Shanksville, PA.”  Nothing more needed to be said.  There was a fence with ribbons, hats, scarves, flags, flowers, anything someone wanted to leave as a small way to say thank you, and we will always remember.  There were benches with each person’s name on the bench forever memorialized for us to always think of who these brave souls were. 

As we walked and read each memorial plaque and each name, pausing to say thank you to each person on board that fateful flight, we wiped away our tears, gave each other a reassuring hug which said, “Yes, I too feel the sadness.”  Though this was such a somber and sad place, I felt so much love there.  Love for those that died there, love for others who came here to pay their respects, and a deep love and pride in our beautiful country.

There was also a small shack where a man was telling the story of those on board.  We could read the transcript of the final words spoken on the plane.  I had heard it before, seen the footage, watched the planes crash into the World Trade Center, but standing here, hearing the story, seeing the field, reading the names, touching those names carved on the benches, this put substance to the events. 

As we were ready to leave, I walked back to the fence, and felt I wanted to leave something behind.  I took off my scarf and Don tied it to the fence.  A small piece of us will remain with the memorial as our way of saying thank you.  Quietly walking back to the car, I noticed Dan brushing away tears.  Dan had been a part of helping the family members coming to Shanksville after the crash.  He had a very intimate relationship with the family.  Dan said he had been to the site countless times and cries each time he comes. 

So as we left the memorial site, I thanked Dan for giving me a gift of being able to thank and honor those that died for our country.  They may not have been in the official Armed Services, but they were every bit heroes for our country.  I will forever remember the day I was able to give thanks and leave a small piece of my love and deep gratitude to a group of dedicated and brave Americans.