My husband I frequently drive between the midwest (our parents live in Michigan/Ohio) and the east coast (we live in Virginia). For years we’ve been promising ourselves we’d stop along the way in Shanksville, Pennsylvania at the Flight 93 Memorial. But by the time we get close we are invariably tired of driving and don’t want to make the detour. We just push the last three hours home.
This August we spent an extra night on the road, so we visited the memorial on a sunny Sunday afternoon. I was so glad we did. Today seemed like the right day to tell you about it. Maybe you will feel inspired to make the detour some time if you can. At least you can enjoy the pictures.
The assortment of visitors was what you might see strolling the National Mall in Washington DC on any sunny afternoon: retired couples in golf visors, parents with school-aged children plus a stroller, a throng of boy scouts in khaki uniform, men and women sporting Harley Davidson logos, a woman or two in hijab, a large Amish family in their distinctive white caps and straw hats. In other words: a cross section of America.