AMBER MORRIS/FOR THE EXPRESS Stephen M. Clark, Superintendent of the National Parks of Western Pennsylvania, addresses the families and friends of those on board Flight 93, at the 2024 9/11 remembrance ceremony in Shanksville.

Yesterday marked 24 years since that sunny September Tuesday when we changed who we were as Americans, as a nation and as a world.

On the morning of Sept. 11, 2001, we quickly went from seeing a small news flash come across the ticker at the bottom of the TV screen about a supposed accidental plane crash at the World Trade Center, to the realization that America was under attack.

I think for most of us, it was kind of unbelievable. Our entire lives we thought we were safe, and yet there we sat, seemingly helpless, watching as the Twin Towers fell, the Pentagon burnt and just two hours from Clinton County, in Shanksville, Pa., a plane crashed into a field, all part of an evil plan by terrorists. It was a beautiful day, but under those blue skies, everything was wrong. We were scared and numb voyeurs, wondering what was next.

Of course, we now know the rest of the story about what happened, who was responsible, who was behind it and what we did in retaliation. We also know that what was meant to separate us, and bring us down, did the opposite. After 9/11, blood donations went up, people sent money to the rescue and recovery efforts at Ground Zero, neighbors started helping neighbors and American flags once again flew from almost every front porch.

Generations have come and gone since the attack, and for almost anyone under 24-years-old, the events of 9/11 are those of history books, since they either weren’t born, or they were too young to absorb the horror of what happened.

By the time most of you read this in The (Lock Haven) Express, there will have been three ceremonies for the families of the victims. People will have gathered in New York City, Washington D.C. and here in Pennsylvania in the middle of a farmer’s field in Somerset County. Bells will ring, names will be read, politicians will have spoken. Similar to 24 years ago, there will be news coverage but mostly for the evening slots, because as time passes, the importance of remembering 9/11 is slipping away, but not for that small club of people who lived it in a different, intimate, first hand way.

As with any traumatic event, there is only before and after. Out of respect, we — the public — remember and honor all who perished on Sept. 11, 2001, in the planes, in the buildings and those who died as a result of rescue efforts. But the majority of people reading this will have no direct link to those who died. On this day, we will sympathize, but we don’t walk in the shoes of those who were left behind.

To make sure their story is told, each year, I get up early on the morning of Sept. 11, and we head to Shanksville for the remembrance ceremony for the 40 lost souls who were on board Flight 93. Typically, this event is primarily for the families, and only special guests, speakers and media are allowed to be present. It’s an interesting situation to be in for a small town writer — we are vetted by the FBI and get White House clearances, because each year, at least one United States President makes an appearance. As a member of the press, we are placed on risers behind the families, and beside me are always the big outlets — CNN, CNBC, FOX and more. To them, it’s just another day of news, but to me, a rural reporter, I’m honored to be present and to pay respect, but at the same time I also feel very out of place, like I’m peering into a private conversation, although I know it’s very important to be capturing these moments. Around 9 a.m. the cameras begin clicking, the film is rolling. The loved ones of the passengers and crew begin to show up and they smile and laugh and are happy to see each other. One might say this is a reunion of lost souls.

The Park Director, Stephen M. Clark, is present from beginning to end, and welcomes each special guest. He is not only in charge of the ceremony on this hallowed day, he oversees the entire grounds, where their loved ones lay, 365 days a year. He is kind, humble and loving, and even funny, as his words wrap around them in a metaphorical hug. It doesn’t take much to come to the realization that Stephen M. Clark is the definition of what it looks like to both love and live for your job. He talks to them one on one before and after the presentation, remembering every name and every face. His sentiment is genuine and he asks for no praise or recognition. Over the years, Mr. Clark, along with his team, and the Friends of Flight 93, has become the person who protects the final resting place of these people’s children, parents, siblings and friends. If they need it, he gets it. If they have questions, he answers them. He is the gatekeeper of memories, and the left-behind family members love him for it.

The TV shows and news articles about Sept. 11 are mostly a glance back at a devestating historical event, but to those family members it’s just another day without their people. They come from far away for the anniversary to Shanksville, NYC and Washington, year after year, and even though the world is watching, to them it’s personal. We see heroes, they see their children. We see the flight path, they see their parent’s final moments. We hear the chimes in their honor, they feel the pain of absence. Their grief is apparent as they walk up to the wall of names and pause to put a hand on the cold marble and close their eyes wishing their person back. The current President of the United States, along with the Governor of Pennsylvania, usually fly in by helicopter to walk the families down to the sacred rock and place a wreath where the plane made impact.

Afterwards, the families are invited to a very private event hosted by the Shanksville Fire Company where the Flight 93 families have fellowship and break bread with one another. People who come from small towns will understand the importance of the dinner, because like the old-fashioned traditional meal in a church basement following a funeral, this is where the real healing takes place. The families visit over roasted chicken and potatoes, catching up with each other, sharing their lives over the past year. Between them there is no pity, no talk of heroism, nobody says “I’m sorry for your loss,” even once. They are part of a club they never asked to be a part of, and they understand each other without needing to say a word.

So, when you think of 9/11 and those who lost their lives so tragically, so unexpectedly, so unfairly, that morning, remember the people in the buildings and on the planes, the EMS, the firefighters who didn’t make it home and those heroes on Flight 93 who most likely prevented the White House from being hit. Please take a moment and say a little prayer for the families and friends who still mourn for them. They walk among us, replaying that morning every single day.

They are worried the world will forget their loved ones, but I promised them we would always remember.

So, for them, the families of 9/11, keep telling the story of what happened on that September morning. Don’t let it slip into the past, remembered only by a tiny blip on the news. Read the stories of those who died, and in their honor be kind to a stranger, donate blood, fly your flag and remember that America is pretty great already, so in their honor, do your part to keep it that way. I promised them.

Happy Patriot Day. Never forget Sept. 11, 2001.