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.
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.