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This past summer, like every summer, when I was in Pennsylvania, I visited the Flight 93 Memorial.
It’s sacred.
I went there and I remembered. Today, may we all remember.
I wrote this story four years ago in memory of all those who perished on Flight 93 in Shanksville, Pennsylvania, USA. I read this story every year on September 11.
I remember. I hope you do too.
May 8, 2019
For the past 1 1/2 years, we lived in Western Pennsylvania. Just down the road from our house was the Flight 93 Memorial—one of several traumatic plane crash sites from 9/11. As a result, we have been there numerous times with guests passing through town.
I had never had an opportunity to take my boys. Every time I visited, they were in school.
One weekend, some friends came to visit. On Saturday, we went for a picnic and a visit to the memorial, and my son, Pierre, joined us.
Through the Eyes of a Child
A very sad and sobering experience, I wasn’t sure how Pierre, age six, would react. The display was full of graphic photos, videos, and memorabilia. I had never walked through the memorial through the eyes of a child.
When we entered, I noticed a group of children ”swearing in” as “Junior Rangers.” Out of curiosity, I asked what they were doing. The parents explained to me that kids could take a “children’s booklet” and look for objects throughout the memorial center. It was a fun game, as they hunted for clues and treasures.
Pierre really got into the scavenger hunt!
Listen to the Stories
One of the wall displays was a portrait board of the 40 victims of Flight 93. There was an interactive touch screen where you could click on the portraits of the victims in order to read and hear the audio of their biographies.
In all of my visits to the memorial, I had never noticed the touch screen display. Perhaps I had never taken the time to stop long enough, to linger, to explore, to hear their stories . . .
There was a young Asian-looking man on the portrait board, and Pierre became obsessed with his picture. He kept pointing to him on the wall. The next thing I knew, Pierre was on the interactive touch screen studying this boy’s face and life. He was fascinated and wanted me to read this young man’s story to him.
Pierre’s eyes were open to the world. He was drawn to this young man who was clearly from another land. My child was much more culturally aware than me.
As we scrolled through the photos of Toshiya Kuge, tears began to well up in my eyes and then slowly stream down my cheeks.
I read his story to Pierre, and he listened intently.
The Last Goodbye
I thought about this boy’s dear mother, Yachiyo Kuge, back in Osaka, Japan. I thought about the many times I had sent my own sons on airplanes as they traveled across the ocean. There were so many times when I had to release my kids to the other side of the world.
I always say “goodbye” to them, hoping and praying that I will hold them in my arms again.
When this mother embraced her son at the airport and said “goodbye,” she never could have imagined—in her worst nightmares—what lay on the other side of that ocean. She could never have believed that it would be the last time she would see her son.
Toshiya had come to the United States with a dream—a dream to learn English fluently and to earn a Master’s degree in engineering from an American university.
On 9/11, he was on his way back to Japan. Flight 93 was the first leg of his journey. He had been on a two-week vacation, enjoying a white-water rafting trip in Canada, along with a visit to Niagara Falls and the Statue of Liberty.
His parents and his brother were waiting on the other side of the ocean to welcome him “home.”
‘The Field of Honor’
Toshiya Kuge never made it home. He now lies in the field of Pennsylvania—buried in the “Field of Honor.”
The motto of Flight 93 is: “A common field one day. A field of honor forever.”
Toshiya Kuge now lies in the “Field of Honor” of Shanksville, Pennsylvania.
He wasn’t the only foreigner to perish in Flight 93. There was also a German passenger, Christian Adams, and Alan Anthony Beaven from New Zealand.
Toshiya’s mother has visited the Flight 93 Memorial, planting a Japanese flag in honor of her son. She also placed beautiful little origami birds at his son’s memorial on the Wall of Names.
Their Stories Ring Out
I am so thankful that Pierre visited the Flight 93 Memorial with me that day. If I had not gone through the display—looking at the memorabilia through the eyes of my child—I may never have heard Toshiya’s story.
His story, and the stories of the other 39 passengers, deserve to be heard.
For now, their voices ring out through the countryside of Pennsylvania. The 40 chimes of the “Tower of Voices” will forever tell their stories—to all those who will take the time to listen.
Another Flight 93 story from a few years ago . . .
—The Cultural Story-Weaver
MY GIFT TO YOU—GET YOUR FREE EBOOK—”THE 5-DAY JOURNEY TO CULTURAL AWARENESS”!
Let’s Weave Cultures!
Why do you think Pierre was drawn to this young Asian man? Have you ever seen things differently when looking through the eyes of a child?
We invite you to tell us your own cultural stories . . . as you engage with the world, breaking down barriers, building bridges, and “weaving cultures!” Write about them in the comment box below.
