Pentagon 9-11 Memorial
Everyone looks to the front, as Marybeth spoke about our last stop of the long and muggy day at the Pentagon Memorial. I felt excited, but at the same time weary. I don't like to cry, but it comes to easy for me! As we pulled into the 67 acre lot, everyone noticed just how big the Pentagon is. Five-sided with bomb resistant windows, the Pentagon is the largest office building in the U.S. We sauntered off the bus, welcoming the cooler weather. We walked toward the memorial thinking we were ready to handle the clout of sadness that would soon loom over us, but we weren't. At the memorial there is no picture taking. In the Memorial there are benches that look like waves. They either face towards the building for those who died working in the Pentagon, or away in the opposite direction, for the people in the plane. My friend and I knelt down to read the first name on the bench. Dana Falkenberg, born in 1998. Already, I could feel myself welling up. That little boy died at only three years old, with his little nine-year-old sister Zoe by his side, along with their parents. I think that bothered me the most was imagining (even if not correct) Dana in his mother's arms. She must have been so strong for her son and daughter. She knew they were going down and that her children's short lives were only seconds away from ending, but she didn’t shed a tear because she wanted them to die knowing their mother and father loved them. She didn’t want them to see her crying. It would only upset them. I know this probably isn’t exactly how they went out of this world, but I like to think highly of the innocent people who died on September 11, 2001. Realistically I know this is not true. Not all of those people where good and pure, but it doesn’t really matter if they died a good person or a bad person. What matters is that they died innocently. Moving on through the memorial, the dismal mood worsened until several of my peers, including myself, were either crying or on the verge of tears. Once we had left the memorial few words were spoken between my friends and I. We knew talking about what we had just gone through would make us feel worse. Stepping onto the bus was like stepping onto a place where I felt comfortable enough to cry. I soon noticed others felt the same way. People who had seemed undeterred let it all out. Everybody settled into their seats. Depictions of innocent passengers flitted through my mind. It made me feel so awful imagining the confused look on Dana’s face as he took his last look at his family. The bus launched forward and rolled smoothly out of the lot. A song by Kitty Donahue singing about 9/11 strolled out the speakers making my heart ache. I could feel dry tears staining my face as I listened not only to the music, but to the sobs of the others on the bus. Once the song ended, ou would have thought that the weeping would die out, but it stayed strong for another 15 minutes. My friend offered her comfort to another friend and I as I am sure others did for their friends. Tissues were passed around and slowly everyone stopped crying. There is no doubt in my mind that later – whether It be tonight in the hotel rooms or even a few months later – tears will come back to me as they will to others. My friend made a great a great point, “ If we are crying this much now think how bad I’ll be at the Holocaust museum.” She’s right. I will be horrible as the feeling that will enclose us as we touch into victim’s lives. But if today is any indicator to how my peers will act at the Holocaust Museum that isn’t one bone in my body that tells me that we won’t handle it with understanding, caring for one another, and of course, respect for those that have passed away.
-Sydney
Friday, June 22, 2012
June 22, 2012
Today I learned things that some people may never learn in their lifetime. They were things that teachers or parents can't teach. It is a moral that no one can comprehend in a single day. I learned that life is given to you you don't get a second chance. You don't get a second try at it. You can't just buy a life - you have one and one only. Today was a hard day not only because of the heat but the emotion that spread throughout everyone. The emotions ranged from sad to wanting to give up (because of the heat). Today we went to the Iwo Jima statue. I about cried! The statue consisted of six men... or as I should say boys. They were all 17-19 years old. Three died and three came home. When we arrived there I wasn't expecting to cry because it is just a statue. But when you hear the story of each boy you think of them more than a metal man you think of him more as a friend or a ... well a brother. Once done there we went to the Pentagon memorial. I cried like no tomorrow. I saw Dana and Zoe! Dana is three and Zoe was nine. They both died in the plane crash. I started to cry so bad because it reminded me of my brother and I. Today was, well, quite depressing.
Sincerely,
Lexie
Today I learned things that some people may never learn in their lifetime. They were things that teachers or parents can't teach. It is a moral that no one can comprehend in a single day. I learned that life is given to you you don't get a second chance. You don't get a second try at it. You can't just buy a life - you have one and one only. Today was a hard day not only because of the heat but the emotion that spread throughout everyone. The emotions ranged from sad to wanting to give up (because of the heat). Today we went to the Iwo Jima statue. I about cried! The statue consisted of six men... or as I should say boys. They were all 17-19 years old. Three died and three came home. When we arrived there I wasn't expecting to cry because it is just a statue. But when you hear the story of each boy you think of them more than a metal man you think of him more as a friend or a ... well a brother. Once done there we went to the Pentagon memorial. I cried like no tomorrow. I saw Dana and Zoe! Dana is three and Zoe was nine. They both died in the plane crash. I started to cry so bad because it reminded me of my brother and I. Today was, well, quite depressing.
Sincerely,
Lexie
Gettysburg
Today was a very hectic day, but also very exciting. I learned so much. First we went to Gettysburg. My favorite part was when we went on top of Little Round Top. The view was so amazing. We stood on the same battlefield that hundreds died. It gave me chills. After that we drove to Washington D.C. and went to the Arlington Cemetery. It was shocking how many gave stones there were. I know that a lot of people passed away, but I never actually thought about it. It hit when I saw how many people were buried there. My favorite part of Arlington was the Unknown Soldier's Tomb. There is a guard there 24/7 keeping an eye out. Marybeth told me that the guards stayed through a hurricane, denying the option to leave. That is real loyalty. We saw the changing of the guards, too. They switch out the guards every half hour. It was complete silence. I didn't dare make a sound, it was so intense. I loved the words engraved on the Unknown Soldier's Tomb, "Here rests in honored glory an American soldier. Known But To God." Then we went to the Iwo Jima statue. This is when I started crying. We got there and we were read an e-mail from the son of one of the men. In the e-mail he started to describe the each man in the statue, there are six. After that we went to the Pentagon Memorial. All I can say is that there are no words for the amount of emotion that flows through everyone. It was a great day for everyone, even thought there was a lot of emotion.
Suzy
Suzy
Pentagon
184 Dead - 77 passengers on a hi-jacked plane - 107 people in the Pentagon
The Pentagon is the largest office building in the world. Coated with Kevlar, (bulletproof material) yet
184 people still lost their lives to a terrible cause. The youngest to die that day was a three year-old, my age back in 2001. The oldest, 71 years of age, was a retired pilot. One entire family was completely wiped out.
Dana, 3
Zoe, 8
Lisa, 45
Charles, 44
The Flackenberg family boarded flight 77 from Washington D.C. not knowing what awaited them that terrible, tragic day.
Walking through the memorial at the Pentagon building I realized all of this. 184 beautiful stone and metal benches that looked like wings/waves represent the dead. A small rectangular pool of water is placed under each bench giving it an unearthly feeling. As I stood listening to the crying around me, the heavens opened up and the fallen cried with us.
I was three years old that terrible day, the same age as the youngest passenger on the plane. That little boy never got the chance at life that he deserved. Walking through the memorial remorse welled up inside me and tears streamed down my face. I found friends or friends found me, either way we stood there in the rain and in each other’s arms, heaving huge wracking sobs. We continued to walk hand-in-hand needing one another for support.
Coming to the bench of the old captain I saw girls I used to be friends with but had grown apart from. Seeing them I lost it and all I did was sit on the ground and sob. Suddenly I felt arms around me and a voice telling me it would be OK. I looked up to find my best sworn enemy patting my back and cradling me. I learned something then, no matter how distant, once a best friend always a best friend.
We walked back through holding each other and murmuring words of comfort. Before leaving I knelt to honor the eldest and youngest deceased. I kept it together two seconds longer and lost all my composure again. One of my friends was never really to keep her emotions and I found her wrapped in a chaperone’s arms. I will never forget that sight. My strong friend wrapped in the arms of an even stronger adult. I joined them in a hug-sob fest and we walked, all three of us, a while with our arms around each other.
One of the girls from earlier stayed with me holding my free hand for support.
The Pentagon is the largest office building in the world. Coated with Kevlar, (bulletproof material) yet
184 people still lost their lives to a terrible cause. The youngest to die that day was a three year-old, my age back in 2001. The oldest, 71 years of age, was a retired pilot. One entire family was completely wiped out.
Dana, 3
Zoe, 8
Lisa, 45
Charles, 44
The Flackenberg family boarded flight 77 from Washington D.C. not knowing what awaited them that terrible, tragic day.
Walking through the memorial at the Pentagon building I realized all of this. 184 beautiful stone and metal benches that looked like wings/waves represent the dead. A small rectangular pool of water is placed under each bench giving it an unearthly feeling. As I stood listening to the crying around me, the heavens opened up and the fallen cried with us.
I was three years old that terrible day, the same age as the youngest passenger on the plane. That little boy never got the chance at life that he deserved. Walking through the memorial remorse welled up inside me and tears streamed down my face. I found friends or friends found me, either way we stood there in the rain and in each other’s arms, heaving huge wracking sobs. We continued to walk hand-in-hand needing one another for support.
Coming to the bench of the old captain I saw girls I used to be friends with but had grown apart from. Seeing them I lost it and all I did was sit on the ground and sob. Suddenly I felt arms around me and a voice telling me it would be OK. I looked up to find my best sworn enemy patting my back and cradling me. I learned something then, no matter how distant, once a best friend always a best friend.
We walked back through holding each other and murmuring words of comfort. Before leaving I knelt to honor the eldest and youngest deceased. I kept it together two seconds longer and lost all my composure again. One of my friends was never really to keep her emotions and I found her wrapped in a chaperone’s arms. I will never forget that sight. My strong friend wrapped in the arms of an even stronger adult. I joined them in a hug-sob fest and we walked, all three of us, a while with our arms around each other.
One of the girls from earlier stayed with me holding my free hand for support.
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