Shaken To Its Core, Shanksville Determined To Honor Flight 93 Victims

Chrissy Bortz of Latrobe, Pa., pays her respects at the Wall of Names at the Flight 93 National Memorial in Shanksville, Pa. after a Service of Remembrance Tuesday, Sept. 11, 2018, as the nation marks the 17th anniversary of the Sept. 11, 2001 attacks. The Wall of Names honor the 40 people killed in the crash of Flight 93. (AP Photo/Gene J. Puskar)
SHANKSVILLE, Pa. — For the past two decades, Shanksville has been known worldwide as the community that on September 11, 2001, was on the precipice of disaster — and survived.
Beginning immediately after the crash of United Airlines Flight 93, the residents of the small borough and its surrounding area stepped forward to provide supplies, water and food for the first responders.
In the ensuing years, those same residents have gone the full measure to remember the heroes of Flight 93 — the passengers and crew who fought the hijackers and brought the plane down in a field near here.
The townspeople’s efforts have not gone unnoticed.
They’ve been honored for their caring attitude toward the victims’ families and for their continuing efforts to remember those who gave their lives as America’s first response in the war on terrorism.
A Houston-based company, Cornell Companies Inc., sponsored a sculpture created by Pittsburgh-area metal artist Jan Loney. The tree-shaped piece features leaves bearing the handprints of Shanksville-Stonycreek School District students, all pointing toward heaven.
The Helping Hands Memorial is located next to the administration wing of the school.
A second sculpture honoring the residents’ response is a totem memorial made from a western red cedar tree. The gift from the Lummi tribe in Washington State can be found near the Flight 93 Memorial in Stonycreek Township. It features a large bear with its arms protecting male and female figures who represent the crew and passengers of Flight 93.
Christopher Baeckel, the 35-year-old mayor of Shanksville, was asked recently if the trauma of Flight 93 had changed the people of his small community.
“I don’t think it changed anyone. It just brought out who we were,” he said.
Baeckel, who works at a Somerset bank, was a freshman student in the high school that day, as were Tessa Belsterling and Jill Shubik, both were 10th graders.
A DAY TO REMEMBER
As the story unfolded, Flight 93 was one of four planes that day taken over by terrorists. Two slammed into the World Trade Center Towers; one hit the Pentagon.
Those onboard Flight 93 knew what was going on as news filtered to them through their cell phones. The hijackers didn’t care that the passengers and crew were communicating with family and friends on the ground — but that communication is what sets Flight 93 passengers and crew apart.
Shubik, now a high school English teacher, was a sophomore at Shanksville-Stonycreek High school that day.
She remembers a loud bang — like a door slamming shut.
Everybody was shocked, she said.
At that point in her life, Shubik did not know what terrorism was.
“I didn’t know why people would want to do this,” she said, as she stood outside her Shanksville home on a picture-perfect, slightly hot and humid summer day, her children by her side.
Her property abuts the parking lot of the Shanksville Volunteer Fire Company, the first department to respond to the explosion that occurred when Flight 93, flying upside down, drilled into the ground of an abandoned strip mine just seconds away from Shanksville and its 200-plus residents.
The last communication from Flight 93 was at 10:03 a.m.
Shubik’s memory of that day coincides with the story told by Belsterling, who was attending a class on world cultures when the loud bang created by the downing of the plane reverberated through the school.
She was on the top floor of the school but was told the ceiling tiles on the bottom floors went up and down due to the impact.
Belsterling, standing with her children just two doors away from the Shanksville Borough building, added one other thought about that day.
“It had to be a little bit of God, too,” she said. “In a couple of seconds, it (the aircraft) could have been on the school.”
Baeckel was 15 in 2001.
There was awareness within the school that something was going on in the nation at large.
Some teachers had televisions on, and the students were aware that a plane had hit one of the World Trade Center towers.
Some watched as the second plane hit the towers.
Then, from nearby came a “loud crash,” Baeckel said.
“We all jumped up out of our seats. We could see a big cloud of smoke,” he said.
“Sit back down,” ordered the teacher, he recalled.
Rumors circulated. One said it was a small plane that had crashed … a passenger plane.
“It took a while to figure out what had happened,” Baeckel said.
Eventually, the students were sent to the cafeteria and parents came to the school to pick them up.
Shubik remembers delivering water to the state police who were keeping order and directing traffic around the site.
Baeckel helped a driver deliver supplies.
He was asked if he wanted to see the site. Of course, he assented with the curiosity of a 15-year-old.
The driver found a spot close enough for the young teen to view the site where Flight 93 crashed.
“There was nothing to see. It was just a hole,” he said.
Bacekel said that one of the leaders of the community’s response was his mother, Judi Baeckel. She has her own story to tell.
THE FIRST MEMORIAL
Judi Baeckel was the acting postmaster in the Shanksville Post Office in 2001.
“Oh, what a beautiful day it was going to be,” she recalled.
It was one of those days with a bright blue sky, plenty of sun and not too hot.
There were no TVs in the post office, and Baeckel noticed that business was slow. Nobody was coming in.
A neighbor finally called her and told her about the planes striking the World Trade Center and the Pentagon.
The neighbor commented, “At least we are safe in Shanksville.”
Within an instant of making the comment, the post office shook.
“I thought it was a bomb. If it was happening here in Shanksville it’s happening all over the country,” Baeckel said. “It was pretty scary.”
As the picture of events became clearer, Baeckel’s thoughts turned toward the victims and their families.
“We should have something for the victims to show the families that we care,” she remembered thinking.
Authorities had closed access to the crash site, but in response to a sign in her yard that proclaimed “Shanksville salutes the heroes of Flight 93,” visitors began to sign their names and leave messages to show their respect.
Someone suggested a cross be placed on a hill in Shanksville, but the railroad that owned the land denied the request.
So local churches placed a shrouded cross in Baeckel’s yard.
Donations of flowers and flags followed.
People also suggested that a permanent memorial be established, with Baeckel part of those discussions.
Some suggested the permanent memorial be in Johnstown or Somerset, two much larger communities; the latest census figure for Shanksville shows a population of 208.
But Baeckel argued a permanent memorial should be in Shanksville, where the plane came down.
Family members of the victims and visitors would come by the busload to see the makeshift memorial, she said.
Baeckel thought waving to the people on the buses was disrespectful. Instead, she put her hand over her heart and bowed her head.
As time went on, Baeckel would often go to the temporary memorial established at the site of the downed plane and explain to visitors what had occurred there.
That memorial, established by the Stonycreek Township supervisors and led by Doug Custer, placed a chain link fence along the perimeter of the site.
People stuffed the fence with mementos and notes.
When the National Park Service took over the site, Baeckel became an “ambassador,” which allowed her to continue her work at the site.
She also became close friends with Mary White, the mother of victim Honor Elizabeth Wainio, 27, who was traveling on Flight 93 to a business meeting.
Baeckel and White have stayed in touch over the years and have visited each other. White now lives in Florida, Baeckel said.
Asked what she thought about the permanent memorial erected in the field overlooking the crash site, Baeckel said, “I think it is beautiful. I feel it is in good hands.”