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Friday, September 12, 2003
My family and I had planned a trip to visit my father-in-law at his home in Frostburg, Maryland, several weeks ago. I had not been over for many months, and the kids were not yet extremely involved in schoolwork and activities. After the events of September 11th, we had heard that one of the hijacked planes had crashed about 10 miles from my father-in-law's family farm near Somerset, Pennsylvania. My son, Timothy, has recently decided to do a research paper on the events of September 11th; so we thought it would be helpful to try to visit the crash site.
We left our home in Gallipolis, Ohio at 8 a.m. and eventually
met my father-in-law at a gas station near the farm. He and many
relatives had grown up around Somerset, PA and he was familiar
with some of the back roads in that area. Upon trying to access
the exact crash site we ended up in Somerset, PA at a gas station.
There was a small group of customers in the store, and upon request
for information, the group became quiet, and specific directions
were given. Several people had been to the site, but said it
was quite restricted. Despite hearing this information, we ventured
on out of Somerset to Shanksville, PA.
At this point I knew we were very close to the site, but it was
not obvious where it was. I again asked directions in a country
store. The only people there were the husband and wife owners
of the store. They were very polite and respectful, apparently
not knowing if we were relatives of the victims on the plane,
or not. At this point we were only 2 miles from the site. After
driving out of Shanksville, we drove through old fields and some
wooded areas, many of which had been surface mined and reclaimed.
At the east end of the site we came upon the first memorial to
the victims. We made a turn onto the road and followed it several
hundred yards to an active strip mine site. There was an access
road to the crash site that had locked gates and signs stating
no admission. We turned the car around and went back to the roadside
memorial. There we got out and looked at the various photographs,
flags, slogans, and personal items placed in memory of the victims.
Several people arrived later and quietly discussed the other access
roads and memorials at those other points. After taking some
pictures, we went on down the road as instructed and made a right
turn. Again, at this corner was a small memorial. We went on
to the road that was the main access road to the crash site.
There was a large flat field, well worn from many parked vehicles.
It was probably 50 X 100 yards long. Many people had parked
along the access road, so that is where I pulled over. There
was a very large memorial with several flagpoles, a large banner
that visitors and victim's relatives had signed hundred of signatures.
We tearfully added ours. The memorial had many pictures, personal
items, children's favorite stuffed animals carefully sealed in
ziplock bags, many burned candles, and rosaries. The people visiting
here were very quiet and respectful, I would even say, reverent.
We saw several people walking out the road toward newly constructed
gates, which were open. We quietly decided to follow them to
see the actual site, if possible. Even grandpa, having two artificial
knees, hurried to the car for his cane, so he could come along.
As we turned toward the road, two trucks with specialized trailers,
slowly and quietly came down the road. These appeared to be forensic
or research trucks. Then came some trucks containing men who
had been carefully excavating the site all day. Again, the slow
quiet driving indicating the respect and reverence due this area.
The road was thin, new loose gravel. As we got to the gate,
the road had been newly paved to avoid carrying mud and dirt to
or from the site. There was a young, fit policeman guarding the
width of the road-his car parked in front of a long, yellow police
ribbon noting that this was a restricted area. We asked him about
the site. Again, he responded with the same polite and quiet
tone that had been increasingly apparent the closer we got to
the site. He said that this was as far as we could go at this
time, yet noted that the depression and the burnt trees at the
edge of the forest were visible from the edge of the road. Apparently
he felt that may have some comforting value, had we been relatives
of the victims. Shortly thereafter, another policeman, a superior,
approached in his car, and went under the barrier to the site.
The first policeman then followed him and returned, telling us
politely that he had to close the gate now and the area where
we had been standing was restricted. We turned back down the
road and he slowly closed and locked the gates behind us.
A young local lady was standing near us, and we asked about the
crash. She said she was home at the time, and the impact was
great. It had cracked the foundation on her house. She said
the plane had hit at a sharp angle in a reclaimed mining field
and the soil was soft. The plane's nose had penetrated the earth
65 feet. The black box recorder was found at the 25-foot level.
A lot of debris had landed in the trees as a result of the impact
and resulting explosion. There had been some winds the day before
we arrived that had blown much of this debris to the ground.
Crews had been collecting and processing this material during
the day, Saturday.
My experience, nearing, and at the site, was one of respect, then
reverence, and, near ground zero, almost a holiness. My sense
is that what occurred on the plane was perhaps that the authority
of God had intervened and moved some of His "saints"
to go to battle against the evil aboard. Despite the loss of
life aboard, the actions of these heroes averted, perhaps, a much
larger loss of life elsewhere. I guess we will never know.
However, I do know that God works everything in perfect detail,
and His plan is what it has always been: To bring all of His children
back to Him. His plan is absolute. He demands absolute love
toward Him, absolute discipline-yet He offers absolute grace and
absolute forgiveness for our imperfections, so that we may, in
His time, return to Him.
I see this demonstrated in Flight 93. The extreme detail that
He works-His perfect plan that, at times, seems bizarre and unusual
to us. Yet in His wisdom, He works only to one end-bringing us
back to Him. This flight was an example, or type, of the Passover
that occurred in Egypt. Remember the feast of Passover. The
Hebrews, under the tyranny of Pharaoh, were not allowed to leave
Egypt and slavery, so God sent may plagues to convince Pharaoh
to let them go. The last plague was death-sent to kill the firstborn
of all animals and humans. Yet, God's people were spared by sacrificing
a lamb and then placing the blood of the animal on the sides and
the top of the front door. Death then passed over that house.
Three of the four planes hijacked by the terrorists found their
targets, yet, He appears to have interceded and caused the fourth
plane to "pass over" its intended target.
In the Passover meal, as celebrated in remembering the "Passover
event" in Egypt, the meal is highlighted by preparing and
eating the meat of the sacrificed lamb. The shank, or leg, of
the lamb is a prized piece. This is a time every year for the
Jews (and Gentiles) to remember God's great deliverance miracle.
On September 11, 2001, I think God performed another sign, and
another miracle, aboard Flight 93. In His very detailed way,
the plane missed everyone on the ground and crashed in an open
field near the edge of the forest between two small country towns
called SHANKsville and LAMBertsville, Pennsylvania. Flight 93
is now history and becomes another chapter in the great mystery
of God.
September 29, 2001
Timothy V. Kyger