We left Baltimore about 9:30 this morning. It didn't take long to get onto the highway and away from the traffic headed into town and into DC. Everything is relatively close here, within an hour or so of one another. The highway is mainly hidden by trees and the cities of Baltimore and Washington DC blend into a multitude of suburbs.
We get on I 70 headed west. Our . destination is listed on one of the highway's signs. We've a long way to go and our destination has been calculated by Google to be 26 hours away.
C and I are getting a little antsy to be home. We enjoyed our stay and all the things we've seen and done but its time to get home. We've been gone two weeks now.
So we are traveling 70 and our phone asks us to follow US 30. I'm not quite sure why since 70 goes directly home. We leave Maryland and enter Pennsylvania. The countryside is hilly and C and I laugh as we crest an elevation of just over 4,000 feet. The is a runaway truck ramp made of gravel. It has to be one of the shortest ramps I've seen. The road goes from four-lane to two. We end up behind a truck that is having some trouble naveigating the upward side of the hills.
A couple hours into Pennsylvania, I see a sign for a historical marker. Tears spring to my eyes and I make an instantaneous decision to follow the signs to the memorial. It is a park dedicated to the men and women who perished on Flight 93.
The visitor's center is filled with large display boards talking about the events of 9-11-2001. There are reels of what the news was saying about the Twin Towers being attacked. Memories rush back and I cry. A lot of people must. Kleenix is available.
People who were alive and over ten years old more than likely remember where they were that day. I was in a doctor's office, the radio was on and docs and nurses were in the hallway talking about the World Trade Center having an airplane flown into it. By the time we got home and turned on the news, the news was worse.
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The story is well remembered. President Bush and Clinton make remarks that emphasize the sacrifice made in crashing the plane. The passengers at the rear revolt and rush the cabin. The plane sways and eventually turns upside down. It crashes into a remote field, away from population centers at a speed well over 500 miles per hour. 7,000 gallons of fuel ignite.
The biggest piece of the plane recovered is about six feet. It's a part of the fuselage. Witnesses describe a large black plume in the sky sparkling in the sun as the light glints off pieces of metal descending.
Today, a large 17 ton boulder marks the spot the plane went down. The site is peaceful. If not for the memorial you'd be hard pressed to know anything significant happened here.
And then there is the memorial, 40 separate walls connected to one another, in alphabetical order, simply naming each passenger on Flight 93 that perished that day.
Some three thousand people died that day. Forty of those people prevented the death toll from being higher. Forty average, ordinary people became extraordinary; they were super heroes who gave all they had to give - their lives.
I'm glad to have remembered each and every one of them today.