As we drove down a curvy road through rural Pennsylvania, my kids continued to ask detailed questions about Sept. 11, 2001. I started to think that maybe I had made a huge mistake bringing my kids to the Flight 93 Memorial.
Earlier this year, I had the honor of writing about the memorial for this paper and had told my kids about the evening I spent with the families of the passengers on Flight 93. So when I realized that our summer trip to Pittsburgh would take us near Shanksville, we decided to visit the memorial as a family.
A little while later, we were walking hand-in-hand down the path alongside the crash site, which is now a field filled with beautiful wildflowers. We stopped to silently read the names of the passengers engraved on the memorial. And I realized that the kids were actually talking softly and walking quietly without reminders.
For most of their lives and even before they were born, I had wondered how I would share the story of 9/11 with my kids. As we took one last look at the beautiful countryside and breathed the peaceful air, I realized that I had found the perfect way for Laurel and Trevor to understand what the day meant to our country.
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When we headed back to the car, Trevor looked up at me and said “Mommy, you were right. The people really were heroes.” I had tears in my eyes as I quietly replied, “Yes, honey. They are heroes.”
Read Jennifer Gregory’s entire blog at TriangleMom2Mom.com/usersJenniferg72/blog.