Flight 93

Yesterday, we went to visit the Flight 93 Memorial.

I still remember the sadness I felt on September 11th, 2001; but yesterday I felt it in a whole new way as I walked among little memorials that the family members of those that died had placed.

I thought about how those that died, stepped onto that plane that day unaware of what faced them...unaware that Americans would be looking to them as heroes. Unaware, that Senator John McCain would acknowledge that he owes his life to them.

I was told of a man on the plane that day, when he realized just like others did on the plane that he was going to die; he called his wife. She wasn't home and how he called everyone he could think of that she might be with...he never got a hold of her that day. The final trail of conversation they found was him on an answering machine, stating how his fate would make the news and then silence. The passengers grasped for that final opportunity to express their love to those that meant most to them. But, they ultimately expressed how much they loved America when they gave their lives.

Blood bought my freedom...someone had to die. I am grateful that their are people willing to sacrifice their lives so that we may be free.