September 11th - The Poem

It was documented as ‘DR #790 United Airlines #93 Air Catastrophe.’ The world would come to know it as September 11th. And still others as 9/11.

For 11 days in Shanksville, Pennsylvania, as a member of a highly-trained public affairs communications team, I met with family members of those who perished on United Airlines flight #93. The two memorial services of which I helped coordinate, would be the official gathering for the family members who mourned their loss.

Every family member was given a small vial of soil which represented their loved one. They held tightly to the small vial of soil. But it was so much more. They were holding on to the smiles, laughter, conversations, holiday dinners and family vacations. That ground would later be classified as ‘Hallowed Ground.’

There were countless cards, candles and bouquets of flowers that lined the steps of government buildings. Yellow ribbons were tied to street signs and pinned to the lapels of local residents and first responders alike.

As I stood in the makeshift Red Cross headquarters, at a local church, I read a handwritten poem. It was poignant and stirred the emotions of passersby, including me. It was titled, ‘911.’

A day of terror and tears forever

The changed the U.S. skyline

Just before and after the sun rose that morning

Then it was the Pentagon

And an old strip mine.

American under siege

Who would ever believe?

It brought our lives to a standstill it took our breath away.

Smoke, stones and twisted steel

Our hearts are saying ‘No, this can’t be real!’

Our ships and sailors are afloat.

Our soldiers are on standby.

Flags are waving at half mass, across the silent sky.

All the planes are grounded and the children whisper, ‘Why?’

Photos of missing loved ones draped on cars and T.V. screens.

As my thoughts and anger run,

We all unite after all we know what this means!

We will fight!!!

Love and prayers to all touched by this terror.

~Author Unknown