They call it “A common field one day, a field of honor forever.”
Flight 93 Memorial Gate
This past week, as I was traveling through western Pennsylvania, I made a stop that has been on my list for a long time. I journeyed to a field in a remote area outside the town of Shanksville, Somerset County, Pennsylvania at what is now the site of the Flight 93 National Memorial operated and maintained by the National Park Service. It honors those who lost their lives there after United 93, a flight from Newark, New Jersey en route to San Francisco, California was hijacked as part of a coordinated attack by al-Qaeda on September 11, 2001. Most likely with the United States Capitol as the fourth target of the day, the terrorists on Flight 93 failed in their mission due to the heroism of those on board. Ordinary citizens who had heard of other atrocities that morning gave their lives so that others might live.
As I entered the memorial area, it was a two-mile drive to make it to the visitor center and the overlook, and three miles to the memorial grove and crash site. I kept thinking about the first responders on 9/11. Those roads did not exist. To make it to the remote crash site was, in fact, a feat in itself. When they got there, they were anxious and eager to help but there was nothing they could do. There was total devastation; everyone was gone.
As I approached the overlook, I walked over three markers etched into the pavement. These name the times and crash sites of the first three planes on 9/11. After I looked down on the third, noting American Airlines Flight 77 at the Pentagon, I looked up and my eyes set upon a field, a beautiful meadow. It brought me to tears as I thought about the culmination of the tragedy of that day.
Twenty-one years ago, that ordinary field in the middle of nowhere became the site of tragedy. In a place of quiet tranquility where it seems like you could literally reach up and touch the clouds, the earth was literally shaken. Making my way down to the meadow and the crash site, I looked at each of the names on the memorial wall and then came to a gate, beyond which is an area visible but closed to visitors, the final resting place of those on board. I began my prayers for those heroes, for their families, for the first responders, for peace, and for hope.
Flight 93 Memorial Flag
It is what is beyond the gate that has become my focus. This was a place where evil was stopped, heroes were made, and ordinary men and women laid down their lives for others. It reminded me of the admonition by Jesus to enter through the narrow gate, the admonition we are given to be selfless in our love and care for others.
The language of those who gave their lives on Flight 93 is universal. It reminds me of the words of Francis de Sales: “Heart speaks to heart. Lips speak only to ears.” These heroes stand there in perpetual vigil, their hearts speaking to ours about the journey through the narrow gate, a journey home to God.
Through that gate of selflessness for us is incredible possibility, the joy and peace that can only come from eternity with God. Beyond the gate and in the field of self-sacrifice are those clouds that look like you can reach up and touch them, a reminder of the closeness of God, the promise of Heaven.
Last year, on the twentieth anniversary of the tragedy, President George W. Bush spoke at the Flight 93 Memorial. He concluded his remarks with these words: “These Americans were brave, strong, and united in ways that shocked the terrorists – but should not surprise any of us. This is the nation we know. And whenever we need hope and inspiration, we can look to the skies and remember.”
Let us make our way through the gate. Let us look up to the sky and remember why the promise is worth living for. May the heroes who have gone before us inspire us not only on this anniversary but always.
Father Michael Vannicola, OSFS
Assistant Provincial, Wilmington-Philadelphia Province
