ONE of the 2996
Remember and honor the 2996
NINETY SIX souls.
September Eleventh in the year Two Thousand and One.
In memory of one them...
*She was 69 years old.
*She was from Bayonne, New Jersey.
*Married in 1958...the year I was born.
*Mother to five children...I come from a family of five.
*Famed for her meatloaf...as was my own Mom.
*A devout Roman Catholic...like my Mom.
*Worked for New Jersey Bell Telephone...I worked for Southern New England Telephone.
How ironic that I would randomly receive Patricia to honor on this 5th year since she was taken from us all.
This is part of a project to honor each and every one of the 2996 that died that day. One for each blogger who asked to join the group. Go to www.dcroe.com/2996/ if bandwidth allows). It's my honor to have had the opportunity to learn a bit more about her.
Patricia got on a plane expecting a vacation in San Francisco, (a city her children raved about), with her sister-in-law and best friend, Jane Folger.
Her family never saw her again.
Patricia, her fellow passengers and crew stepped out of our lives,
and into our hearts...Forever.
Patricia Cushing...just ONE, of almost THREE THOUSAND AMERICANS who died that beautiful Fall day...five years ago.
Do you remember that morning?
Remember where you were...
what you were doing...
whom you were with...
the day that EVERYTHING changed?
I remember it like yesterday. I had "bad dreams" the night before.
Oddly enough, they were about a plane crash. But that's the only similarity.
My dreams were personal to my own experience. But none the less,
I lost a LOT of sleep in the wee hours of September 11, 2001.
I chose to call out from work that day.
I decided to turn on FoxNews "just 'till 9am...then I'll go back to bed".
I never got back to bed.
At 0903, while talking to my Father on the telephone, both of us witnessed
Flight 175 out of Boston fly into the South Tower.
I wanted make the two hour drive to NYC right then and there...but 18 minutes later,
the city was shut down...no one in, no one out.
At 0921 New York City was closed.
At 0925 all domestic flights are grounded by the FAA.
At 0945, American Flight 77 out of Dulles, flew into the Pentagon.
At 1005 the South Tower collapsed.
Flight 93 took off from Newark Airport at 0801.
By 1005, New York City was closed off from the rest of the country...from the rest of the world. And New York's skyline had changed forever.
Fifty-six passengers, two pilots, seven flight attendants, and four madmen were on Flight 93.
Some of the innocent on board had already been slaughtered by radical followers of
"the religion of peace".
It was time for the others to join ranks. By now they knew that this was no ordinary "take me to Cuba" hijacking. They had been on their cell phones...They knew...they knew.
They had just been thrust into a situation that none had expected.
They knew that they were all that stood between the madmen, and another building getting hit
...possibly the Capitol, or the White House.
They knew what they had to do...and they did it.
That's what we Americans DO.
We often hear the term "the heroes of Flight 93". And yes, that's exactly what they were.
As a plaque in the field where they stopped the madness reads:
This day ordinary Americans took extraordinary steps
to help their fellow Americans
and by doing so gave the greatest sacrifice.
Patricia was among those brave, ordinary Americans.
She was one of those "Heroes of Flight 93".
They were the first among the many, that chose to fight back
...to say NO!
...this WILL NOT STAND
...you WILL NOT WIN!
We Americans owe these brave "first responders to the terrorists" a tremendous debt of gratitude. Many in Washington owe them their lives...I hope they realize it.
Pray for Patricia.
Pray for all of those who chose to fight back that day.
And pray for those who fight back for all of us...to this day.
Pray for the souls of all of those lost that terrible day in September. Five years ago.
God Bless them.
And God Bless America.