9/11: Flight 93 – A Personal Story

SAG HARBOR, NY – Hurricane Erin roared up the Eastern Seaboard overnight 25 years ago today, leaving behind what would be an absolutely gorgeous day, weatherwise, across the region. The sun arose to reveal a beautiful blue sky with white cotton ball-like clouds.

I turned on the television to catch the latest weather report, to see if it would be a good beach day, as my late wife, Sherri Moyer, and I were on vacation in The Hamptons. What I saw and the events of the morning would leave an indelible mark on my life and those of tens of millions of others around the world.

Witnessing the second plane, United Airlines Flight 175 out of Boston, at 9:03 a.m. pierce the South Tower of the World Trade Center, looked more like a movie trailer, based on a Tom Clancy novel, than reality. Fifteen minutes later, United Airlines Flight 93 out of Newark, at 9:28 a.m., was hijacked over Northern Ohio.

When word came at 9:37 a.m. that American Airlines Flight 77 out of Washington Dulles struck the Pentagon, I knew our country was under attack, but by whom and for what reason was unknown. It was time to leave and return home to Ohio, but Long Island was sealed off.

Eight minutes later, at 9:45 a.m., U.S. airspace was closed.

I called my office. A colleague said there was a plane on the ground at Cleveland Hopkins with a bomb onboard, which later proved to be false, and another plane in the air, which nearly took out the BP Tower in downtown Cleveland, as too closely seen by my wife’s boss. That plane was United Airlines Flight 93.

Aboard the aircraft was Linda Gronlund, the daughter of a close family friend in Sag Harbor. She and her fiancé were traveling first-class to Napa Valley in California to celebrate their engagement. Linda was North American counsel for BMW and held a brown belt in martial arts. Fighter jets were scrambled, reportedly flying in excess of Mach 1, breaking the sound barrier, but were unable to reach Flight 93 in time.

After a 6-minute revolt by the passengers to take back their plane from the hijackers, Flight 93, zipping through the sky at full speed and turning upside down, plunged into the ground near Shanksville, PA. It was 10:03 a.m.

Approximately 90 minutes later, my wife and I received a call from her uncle who told us Linda Gronlund had perished in the crash. We spent the next 3 days consoling her mother, Doris Gronlund, a long-time Sag Harbor merchant, resident, and family friend. It was not the vacation we had planned, but God put us where he needed us most.

May all the souls that perished that day rest eternal. And may our country never forget those who paid the ultimate price to either rescue the injured or bring those responsible to justice.