Twenty-five years ago, America was attacked in a way that hadn’t occurred since Pearl Harbor. Terrorists successfully coordinated the hijacking of four west coast-bound planes, crashing two of them into the World Trade Center towers, piloting one of them directly into the Pentagon, and ditching the fourth plane, which was intended for the U.S. Capitol, in Shanksville, PA. Passengers on this fourth plane, Flight 93, plotted and subdued the terrorists guarding them and were about to enter the cockpit to retake control of the plane when the terrorists flying the plane aborted their plan and crashed the airliner. Dianne and I, along with four friends from Charlottesville, recently went to the Flight 93 Memorial, created by the National Park Service to tell the story and honor the heroism of the passengers on board. The visit was both difficult and totally uplifting.

As we commemorate the 25th anniversary of that terrible and tragic day, nearly every adult can remember exactly where they were when they heard the news, much the way that most of us in our generation can remember the announcement that President Kennedy had been shot. It’s good for us, even if hard, to remember such events, as memories are a significant part of the American story. Dianne and I would like to share the memories of those who traveled with us to the Flight 93 Memorial, in their own words. We hope they help all of us pause and remember.

Paul:

My recollections are very clear, much as is my recall of the assassination of JFK; both are locked in. 

Shortly before the assaults, I had retired from the USPS and gone to work for a consulting company.  I was interviewing an applicant for a plant manager position at our facility near Andrews AFB when an assistant interrupted the interview to say that a plane had hit the World Trade Center.  Thinking it was a small plane, I continued with the interview.  A few minutes later, he came in again to say that “all hell is breaking loose” and that another plane hit the other tower.  We ended the interview and went to the conference room and watched the news in disbelief.  Then we saw the towers fall and the news that the Pentagon had been hit.  From our location we went outside and saw the smoke billowing up from the direction of the Pentagon just as two air force jets streaked by only a few hundred yards overhead, heading toward the Pentagon.  We left the facility and headed back to the corporate headquarters in Vienna at about 11:30am; the Washington Beltway was virtually empty, a sight I had never seen at that time of day, or almost any time of day.  We drove past the George Washington Parkway, watching the smoke still rising from the Pentagon.  It was at once, surreal, chilling, and sad.  

Later, I was struck by how very warm and genuinely kind people were to one another during the ensuing few weeks after 9/11. Gestures of grace were evident everywhere, tears were just below the surface in most all conversations, and deference given to all.      

Susan:

That Tuesday morning I was at LaMadeleine restaurant in Tyson’s Corner as part of a breakfast meeting with my advisor and representative from my Christian Education Committee.  I was the Director of Christian Education at Lewinsville Presbyterian Church in McLean, VA.  I was also working on my Masters Degree at Virginia Theological Seminary.

Our meeting concluded a bit before 9:00am and I got into my car for the short drive to Lewinsville.  My radio was on and an announcement was made that a plane had hit the North Tower of the World Trade Center.  I, like many others, assumed it was a small plane and a terrible accident.  Before I reached Lewinsville the second plane hit the South Tower and another announcement came on the radio.  Then I knew this was no accident and was eager to get to church to see what else I could learn.  I remember thinking, “Those poor people in NYC; this is so awful.”

When I arrived at Lewinsville the staff was already assembled in our conference room and the TV was on.  It was being talked about as a terrorist attack. As millions of others did, we watched the planes hitting the towers on an almost continuous loop.  

A short time later (9:37) the third plane hit the Pentagon.  Now it was personal.  We had several friends who worked there and I was immediately worried about them and how this might all end in an all-out attack on our nation.

When the first tower collapsed, I remember thinking that this was too much to watch over and over again, so I went to my office and closed the door.  I tried to call Paul (her husband) but his phone went to voicemail.  I called both of our kids and let them know we were ok and to check on them.

I stayed at work until about 1:00pm but then Gary Pinder, the Senior Pastor, told us to all go home because the Federal Government was sending most workers home and the roads would shortly be packed with frantic people trying to get home.  During the hours before Gary sent us home, many members of the congregation came into the church.  Some were distraught, some were angry, some were bewildered.  I remember expressing a question:  “Why do they hate us so much?”  A fellow who worked for the CIA and is ordinarily soft spoken and calm turned to me and answered with a snarl and in a loud voice, “They hate us because we stand for everything good!”  Today as I reflect on that I wonder if his statement still holds true.  I feel some shame about where our country is today and our approach to the rest of the world.  

Danna:

In September 2001, my family lived in a small town in New Jersey near the Erie Lackawanna train line.  Many people in the area, including myself, commuted by train to NYC for work.  I had a part-time job in the city, and happened to be home on the 11^th.  That morning I was just preparing for the day, listening to The Today Show in the background.   I remember seeing the first plane hit the north tower and, like everybody else, thought it was a horrific accident.  My eyes were glued to the TV when the second plane hit the south tower, and I vaguely remember being utterly confused.  Could this be a second accident?  I had such a feeling of shock and disbelief until the awful truth sank in.

My son was in fifth grade at the local elementary school.  The scene was somber and tearful as we parents arrived at the school to take our children home, knowing we’d have to tell them about this nightmare happening not far from us.  We knew we could not protect them from these events, and we knew our world had changed forever.  We also knew that some of the children in our town had parents who worked at the World Trade Center, and all we could do was wait and hope.  

Harriet:

On Tuesday September 11, 2001, I was just beginning the day’s lesson with my high school Senior English class when our principal interrupted with an announcement over the speaker system asking teachers to turn on the classroom televisions. It was around 9:30 am. For the next hours, I was with that group of students as we were told there would be no class changes that morning until lunchtime. As we watched the destruction of the World Trade Center’s towers over and over again, I was assuring the 17- and 18-year olds that they were safe and at the same time attempting to impress on them that they were living through a pivotal moment in history. 

I remember a conversation with one student where I told her that our world had just changed, as it had for my generation with the assassination of JFK and for my parents with the bombing of Pearl Harbor. At that time, I didn’t realize the ways and the extent that it would change, however.

The teacher in the next room over was from New York City. Both of his sisters worked in the World Trade Center. My principal sent a sub to take over his classes and he sat in the hall outside my classroom trying to call his mother in NYC. It was impossible to get through to her as communications were down. I would go and sit with him for a couple of minutes at a time over the next hours. Finally, in the afternoon he reached his mother. He was told that his sister who worked in Tower 1 had been late for work as she had stopped to vote in that day’s election so she was not in the tower. His other sister worked in Tower 2 and had left work to try to find her sister after Tower 1 was hit. Both survived. But both would have died had they been at their places of work when the planes hit.

The next day, we found out that the aunt of one of my students had been on the plane that hit Tower 1. My daughter-in-law’s sister worked in Tower 1, but was at an off-site meeting, which my daughter-in-law did not at first know and was understandably distraught.

Almost everyone I have ever spoken with about 9/11 was only one or two degrees removed from the tragedy. And everyone remembered just where they were and what they were doing when the attacks occurred.

Joey:

It was an ordinary, sunny morning in Greenwich, CT, and I was driving to the Trinity Church office. Listening to NPR on the radio, as I usually did, I was caught off-guard when the program was interrupted for a special announcement: a plane had just flown into one of the World Trade Center towers. No other details were available, and it seemed like a terrible accident. I arrived at the office and a couple of people asked if I had heard the news, and we commiserated together. Then came the fateful follow-up: a second plane had hit the other tower, and all of a sudden, things looked very different. We were all shocked and wondering what to do next. How widespread is this attack? Where are our families–are they safe? Do we rush to get our kids from school? Are there members of the church we should reach out to? We gathered quickly to pray for understanding, protection, and wisdom as to what to do next. 

As more news arrived, as the fact of an attack became more obvious, after Dianne arrived at the office and we were satisfied that our family was safe, the next few hours became a bit of a blur. It wasn’t clear what we should do, what we could do, so we watched the TV replays and waited. We received calls at the office from church members who had friends who worked in the Trade Center, asking for prayer for their friends whose fate was unknown. 

Our residence in Old Greenwich was close to Tod’s Point, a town park which is a peninsula in Long Island Sound. On a clear day, driving or biking out to the tip of the park, we could look across the sound and see the NYC skyline, with the twin towers the most obvious landmark; this day, we could see smoke arising from the Trade Center rubble. It was a sick and sobering view that would be visible for several days. 

We watched video footage, we prayed, we held several church prayer gatherings, we tried to console each other, and we all wondered what this meant.

The Flight 93 Memorial

The Memorial design highlights the flight path of the plane moments before it was crashed. A large boulder marks the point of impact, a spot which now must be observed from a distance out of respect to those who died. Along the walkway which mimics the flight path is a white wall with the passengers’ names inscribed. In the Visitor Center is a time line of the events of Sept 11, pictures of the passengers, recordings of the last voices heard before impact, and speeches by presidents praising the bravery and courage of the passengers. It is a large, mostly natural site, with room to walk and reflect. It is beautiful, and the beauty of the site is a stark contrast with the horror of the event being memorialized. It is somber, completely honoring without sensationalizing. Bravo, NPS!

We asked our fellow travelers to also share their reflections on the Flight 93 Memorial, as different people are struck by different aspects. Again, in their own words:

Paul:

On reflection of what I might have done had I been on Flight 93, I think (hope) that I would have voted yes and been well involved in the struggles to retake the airplane; frankly, I think that there would have been no other choice but to act, and to act aggressively.  

My thoughts at visiting the Flight 93 memorial were very similar to my thoughts at visiting Normandy … how can we do such things to one another? 

Danna:

My first impression was … this  memorial is expansive, covering acres and acres in a beautiful, pastoral setting; most of it is open fields.  When we arrived, we found ourselves on a walkway following the flight path of Flight 93.  The high white walls on either side of us drew our eyes up to the sky where the plane would have travelled.  About half a mile down the hill is the wall of names and beyond that the debris field and crash site marked simply by a giant boulder. 

We learned that the crash site is only accessible to family members once a year when they walk through a ceremonial gate each September 11^th.  We were lucky enough to hear a 30-minute talk by a park ranger, and I was mesmerized as he quietly took us minute by minute through the events of that morning.  Back at the museum in the visitors’ center, we learned something about each of the 40 people onboard the flight that day, and heard heart-breaking voice recordings of final messages to loved ones from some of them.

Overall, my impression of the Flight 93 Memorial is that it’s exactly right … thought-provoking, haunting, informative, respectful, wide-open and really quite beautiful. 

Final Thoughts:

It was said over and over after 9/11 that our world had changed forever, but as I reflect on the 25th anniversary of the events and our current circumstances, I wonder how true that actually is. Certainly the world for many was turned upside down. Many families suffered terrible losses and would struggle to heal. Many first-responders lost their health when they bravely ran toward Ground Zero. Many companies in the NYC area were severely impacted: some that were based in the Trade Center were wiped out entirely; many faced the loss of personnel; and many others suffered because parts of NYC became a work site rather than being filled with consumers. So I don’t in any way want to minimize those, and other, tragic, senseless losses. But did the world change for those of us not more directly affected?

It certainly changed in the years immediately following. The U.S. committed thousands of military lives, vast resources, and so much energy to punishing those responsible for the attack and those nations which in one way or another supported them. The U.S. also dramatically increased our security efforts, at airports and other transportation venues, at governmental facilities, and at events, to reduce the risk that such an attack could happen again. But aside from punishment, enhanced self-protection, and the brief but fleeting period of greater unity and kindness, did anything else truly change the trajectory of the American story? Did we learn anything from the tragedy that might make us a better country?

While many around the world still see the U.S. as their hope for a better life and go to great lengths to get here, others see us as the source of so much evil and hate us. We flaunt our wealth and share it very stingily. We tout freedom and equality, yet continue to elevate some and oppress others at home and abroad through legal, and illegal, actions. We make decisions, pass budgets, build more walls, and develop new technologies to prevent migrants from entering our country, and we actively strive to deport as many immigrants as possible. We bully nations that need our support, we break international promises and commitments, we pursue trade policies that enrich us at another nation’s expense. If I had to guess, I would say that there are more people, groups, and nations that hate us today than there were twenty-five years ago. The city on a hill needs a massive dose of humility and neighborliness. I’m concerned that we are sowing many, many seeds that could grow into another tragic harvest.