But really, there were 41

This is a hard post to write.  I’ve had to put some distance between having the experience, and sharing it. Not so much to ‘process’ it; although for sure there was some of that. More because I burst into tears every time I thought about it.  

During our recent trip to Maryland, we took a day trip to Shanksville, Pennsylvania. You might remember that name, vaguely, because it is where Flight 93 went down on 9-11.  It’s the flight that the passengers took back from the terrorists, and knowing that although they would lose their lives, they hoped it would save so many others. It’s the single victory – the one win we needed so badly that day.

There isn’t much there. Not yet anyway.  A big memorial and interpretive center is being built in time for the ten year anniversary.  There are construction vehicles everywhere, but mostly it’s just an open field with a gravel parking lot, a tiny shack with some pamphlets, and memorials sent by people everywhere.  There is also a short program presented by a Park Ranger, using a simple three ring binder and page-protectors to keep the pictures from getting dusty.

I remember hearing on the news that the terrorists chose flights they knew would be fairly empty, thinking they would be easier to control.  The Park Ranger said that there were only 40 people on Flight 93 that day; 33 passengers and 7 crew members. She gave a brief biography of some of them, including an Emergency Medical Technician named Lauren Grandcolas, and mentioned that fortunately, no children had died.

Except that’s not quite true.

Lauren Grandcolas was three months pregnant with her first child.  When I was three months pregnant with my first child, had he died, I most certaintly would have considered that a death.  In fact, I have an ultrasound picture of him at that age because there were some scary complications. The kind where the doctor tells you to go home and wait; because it’s either going to be OK or it isn’t; but there isn’t anything he can do. 

The Park Ranger said based on the trajectory of the flight as it fell from the sky, had it crashed three seconds earlier it would have landed directly on a school.  In fact, it was the only school in that town.  It housed Kindergarden through 12th grade.  An entire generation for this small town would have died that day.  But they didn’t. 

And although the history books will say that “no children died” – and I am profoundly grateful that no other children were on board and the school was spared – it’s important for me to say that one child died on Flight 93. That baby’s mom, Lauren Grandcolas, knew that they were both going to die. 

So little baby, I dedicate this post to you.  I can’t get you out of my head.  Maybe you just needed some credit.  Maybe you just needed to be counted. So now, the world knows.  Rest in peace.