At the end of the Fourth of July weekend, I made my way along the Lincoln Highway, around curves that exposed verdant farmland, and up and over the historic terrain of the Allegheny Mountains. The drive was slow and relaxing. I lost track of time and was surprised that it was past four o’clock when I arrived at the Flt 93 Memorial.
The gateway to the four hundred acre National Memorial is the Tower of Voices, a precast concrete and steel structure. It is ninety-three feet tall in honor of Flt 93 and contains forty wind chimes representing the voices of the passengers and crew members aboard the flight. The polished aluminum chimes vary in tonality and length from five feet to ten feet. The pitch of the chimes was conceived by composer Samuel Pellman, and constructed by a wind engineering consultant, an acoustics engineer, and a musical instrument fabricator. The chimes are activated by the wind and will sound at wind speeds of 15-25 mph. I didn’t hear the sound of the chimes. There were only gentle breezes the day of my visit.
As I approached the long, angular visitor center, I decided to go straight to the memorial site because it was later in the day than I planned.
The site is stark in its commemoration of the events of September 11, 2001. I entered the pavilion to look at photos and read notes of interest. Other visitors spoke in whispers, if at all. A sense of solemnity and sorrow filled the air.
On the hill above the site, the Visitor Center is in line with the trajectory of the flight. There is a walk towards the Wall of Names, to the left is the Field of Honor where the plane made impact in a grove of Hemlock trees at 563 MPH, nose down in an inverted attitude. The crater measured approximately fifteen feet deep and thirty feet across. A seventeen ton sandstone boulder surrounded by wildflowers marks the crash site.
There is a ceremonial gate made from Hemlock beams. Forty angles within the gate represent the strength and unity of the crew and passengers who lost their lives that day. The public can view the site from the gate, but only family members are permitted to enter that sacred ground on September 11th.
Here begins the Wall of Names, forty panels of polished white granite slabs, each inscribed with the name of a hero who fought back against the hijackers. I read each and every name, whispering it to the breeze with a blessing. When I read the name Lauren Catuzzi Grandcolas, I burst into tears. Beside her name is written “and Unborn Child.” Until that moment I didn’t know that there had been a pregnant woman on that flight. As a woman, as a mother and grandmother, the loss of this baby struck something deeply emotional within me. Of course, every life lost that day was precious, they were someone’s mother, sister, daughter, wife, father, brother, husband, son, friend, a soul in a human body; even so, babies represent hope for the future. I can only imagine the inner strength of this mother as she courageously faced the hijackers, and death, with a baby growing within her.
Lauren Catuzzi Grandcolas was a marketing and sales representative and a certified EMT. She was returning home from her grandmother’s funeral in New Jersey where she told her family that she was three months pregnant. She and the surviving passengers and crew members voted on whether to act (democracy in action) and then stormed the cockpit where the hijackers had taken control of the plane by ramming the door with the food cart. The plane crashed shortly afterwards. Their brave and selfless act saved the lives of many people in Washington D.C. that day.
On news reports, we heard calls made to family and friends by passengers and crew members. Here are Lauren’s last words on a voice message to her husband: “Jack, pick up sweetie, can you hear me? Okay. I just want to tell you, there’s a little problem with the plane. I’m fine. I’m totally fine. I just want to tell you how much I love you.”
9/11 is a universally shared event, and anyone over seven years old that day remembers the moment they heard that two planes had crashed into the World Trade Center in New York City, and then one into the Pentagon in Arlington, Virginia, and the fourth in a field in Shanksville, Pennsylvania. I remember the feeling of grief, not only for the country, but for the families of those who died that day. I thought about the people at work in the World Trade Center, looking out their office windows, seeing a plane headed straight for them, or at the Pentagon, or the passengers on Flt. 93 trying to overtake the hijackers, and I hoped that they all were filled with the Grace of God in their last moments.
What I remember most about that time in the days, weeks, and months after the horrific events of September 11th 2001, is the unity, the kindness, and compassion towards each other as Americans, and the support and kindness we received from the rest of the World.
At the time, I was working as a Beauty Advisor for a cosmetic company at a local department store. I remembered the days of stunned silence in an empty store in an empty mall. One evening an older woman came up to me. She said she was from Lebanon, an immigrant who had been taken in by America. She said that she loved America and was deeply sorry for what had happened, and that she wanted to show her gratitude to America by spending money to help the economy. She was going around to all the stores buying little things. She showed me a scarf she bought, and a pair of gloves, and some socks, all from different stores. As we talked she said, “All the people of the world want peace, it is the politicians who want war.” She bought a red lipstick, and I never forgot that lovely woman, not for spending a little money for the economy, but to uplift a grieving community and spread love.
Here we are, twenty-four years later, a divided country, families and friendships broken by divisive politics driving fear of the other, when we are really the same. Each of us wants the closeness of our loved ones, to enjoy peace within our homes, nourishment from the food we enjoy, and the pleasant acquaintance of our neighbors.
Yesterday, as I was formatting this blog to post there were two violent events, one at a college in Utah where a political activist who pushes a right-wing agenda on high school, college, and university campuses and recently said, “It’s worth it to have a cost of, unfortunately, some gun deaths every single year so that we can have the Second Amendment,” who was critical of gay and transgender rights and the separation of church and state, who said that women should be submissive to their husbands, who was anti-immigration, dismissive of climate change, and said that empathy was a “made up New Age term that does a lot of damage,” was assassinated. I do not believe or support any of the things this man promoted, but I am deeply saddened that he was murdered. A family lost a husband and a father.
Less than an hour later, at a high school in Colorado, a shooter died from a self-inflicted gunshot after shooting two schoolmates. I grieve with all of the students at Evergreen High School and their families. Too many children have died and/or been injured and traumatized by senseless shooting.
According to Ammo.com, there were over 840,000 gun deaths in the United States in the twenty-five years from 2000 to 2024. When will there be meaningful legislation to end this madness? Wouldn’t it be ironic if the murder of a pro-gun activist was the turning point?
I wrote this blog to honor those who lost their lives twenty-four years ago on 9/11, and to remind all who read this that there was a time when America was united. On my journey this summer across the Heartland of America, everyone I met was nice and helpful. I know we have it in us as a People to find our way back to that time and again be kind, caring, and helpful to each other.
“Imagine all the people
Livin’ life in peace
You may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
I hope someday you’ll join us
And the world will be as one.” John Lennon
The Write Mind of a Lefthander 