nmah5580.xml

nmah5580.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2003-07-30

I was at work in Boston. I worked for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts inside the South Station building. A co-worker who was also a private pilot came out of the lunch room where there was a TV set. He was sort of pale and told me a plane had crashed into the WTC in NYC. A few of us went in and kept watching. Then the 2nd plane hit. We were aghast. Silence, then someone murmers, "That was no accident, not two planes, no way!"

Later there was a report that there was a fire at the Pentagon, then word came that it had been struck by a hijacked plane. They said the planes had been hijacked out of Logan Airport across the harbor. Looking down at the lobby of busy South Station Terminal State Police were walking around. Our Executive Director ran in and told us that a State of Emergency had been declared and that we were all to go home. I took my things and got on the subway. Folks chatted on their cell phones and tried to gety information. A crowd gathered around a man with a portable radio. I got off the subway and quickly walked home.

I am a natural news hound and watched CNN, MSNBC and Fox News, back and forth. Then the Trade Center Towers fell. At that time (it is hard to remember) we thought there were more planes in the air headed who knows where... then they said a plane had crashed in Shanksville Pennsylvania. I got out a map and saw it was right close to where my parents had grown up in Connellsville. The next day I stayed at home and watched TV some more. I had not gotten much sleep. We stayed up until maybe 2am. At 7am I was back in front of the TV set. It was when my fiancee left to get some lunch that I began to cry very hard for a long time. I wept hard and even yelled out in anger and disbelief, very unlike me. Sometimes I think we would have a less angry and healthier society if more people had scream therapy, like going to a concert or on a roller coaster and just screaming so all the things we have repressed are let out.

I called my friends in NY to make sure they were OK. I had been to the top of the Trade Center when I was younger and remembered justy how tall they are up close and looking down from them. My father has a fear of heights. So that was it really, just stunned disbelief followed up by generalized unfocused anger and rage at the stupidity and amorality of such a thing. I found the cassette of Don Henley's song "In a New York Minute" and the lyrics made me cry all over again... "Harry got up, dressed all in black, went down to the station and he never came back, they found his clothing scattered somewhere down the track, and he won't be on Wall Street in the morning. everything can change in a New York minute..."

Yes, I decided to focus on the Heroes of Flight 93. It was a great story and when I listened to the theme music from the film "A Bridge Too Far" I cried because I realized what a suicide mission was. Troops, military or civilians in a moment's notice, do not know what is going to happen, they have no guarantee of success, just a hope. So I thought about what to do. I did reaserch on the Internet and found others who wanted to help in the project to build a memorial at the crash site in Shanksville PA. I sent an e-mail to a teacher who's students also wanted to help. I told her I wanted to visit the site on Sept. 11th 2002, one year later. She thought there might be others who want to drive as a group so I set up a forum for them to organize the trip.

I found a person there who would help. A person I had seen at the first GM Nationans car show in Carlisle PA, a Camaro owner named Val McClatchey. It turns out she lives near Indian Lake and took the photo of the smoke rising up over the crash site she calls, "End of Serenity". When the time came I brought a video camera to help record and document the memorial service. We had tried to find a logical starting place. The airport in Newark Nj where Flight 93 had flown out of made sense. Then I found the Great Swamp National Wildlife Refuge in Basking Ridge NJ. That was where FLight 93 passenger and hero Richard Guadagno had worked. I called their Security person to see if we could use a parking lot the morning of the 10th to meet up before driving to PA. He was touched. He had known Richard and knew a good spot at a trail head where the other employees had made a tribute to Richard and the crew and the passengers on a wall.

When we got there I video taped the scene and the wall with his picture on it. We drove out to PA and spent the evening in the lounge of the hotel in Somerset PA drinking and listening to a local live rock band. I wondered if Patriot's Day Eve would someday become a reason to celebrate the day before we all bow our heads in solemn rememberance, maybe a new tradition could be made and evolve. Maybe... so the next day we went to the crash site on the buses and saw the temporary memorial out near the crash site in a recovered coal stripmine. I had left my video camera at the hotel on purpose since I knew there would be plenty of news people shoving their cameras in the faces of the mourners. I brought my 35mm camera and took snapshots to help me remember. Witnessing is an interesting idea. I felt I had to go adn wotness the activity there one year later, to be there in person, drawn inexplicably, going out of the way to get the time off from work, to organize a group of ersatz "hot rodders".

The next day we were on our way out of town and at the front desk of the hotel we found a flyer for the Shanksville Memorial Chapel. It was a little out of our way, but I felt the Heroes of Flight 93 warranted the extra attention. I am so glad we made the pilgrimage. We saw the car with New Jersey license plates out in the parking lot. We entered the chapel adn saw the Reverend speaking with an older couple who were soon joined by a younger couple. We walked around and saw the names of the crew and passengers on the wall. I went to sign the guestbook and saw the names above the empty space... it was the names of Richard Guadagno's parents! I looked at them. The young man caught my eye and I asked him if they were his parents and he said yes, and that he was the buyfriend of Richard's sister and they lived in Florida.

I told him what a coincidence it was to see them since two days before we had started our trip from where he had worked at the wildlife refuge. He told his girlfriend who then told her parents. They approached us slowly. Richard's mothers spoke, "Who did you lose?" She thought we were one of the families of the victims! I explained to them that we were just plain folks who happened to have driven from Boston MA to witness the memorial service. They were touched. I told them how it was also sheer happenstance that we had picked the refuge to drive from, just thought it was a nice scenic place to begin our journey. I had to leave, in the parking lot the tears welled up and I cried like crazy. Got in the car adn could not drive, just held the steering wheel and cried for a few minutes. On the way to the Turnpike I got gas and again thought about Richard Guadagno, his parents and relatives and the crew and passengers and all of their relatives. It was a long quiet ride home.

The people, we need to remember each of the victims adn their loved ones.

Yes, I know we are blessed by God, that is why people want to blow us up.