Residents recall grim anniversary of terrorist attacks
All Americans of a certain age will spend at least some time Friday recalling the gut-wrenching events that played out in New York City, Washington, D.C., and Shanksville, Somerset County, 19 years ago as terrorists used U.S. airliners to carry out a devastating attack.
The first hijacked plane struck the World Trade Center's North Tower at 8:45 a.m.
The horror expanding in the American consciousness only grew that morning as hijacked airliners then proceeded to strike the South Tower at 9:03 a.m., the Pentagon at 9:37 a.m. and a farmer's quiet field in Shanksville at 10:03 a.m.
Investigators believe passengers on Flight 93, which crashed in Shanksville, had learned about the World Trade Center and Pentagon crashes and were putting up a fight with the hijackers. The 9/11 Commission believes that Flight 93's target was either the U.S. Capitol or the White House.
When the first plane hit, many people were at work or school on that picture-perfect late summer morning.
G. Jane Bromley, formerly of Butler and now a resident of New Castle, lived in Hagerstown, Md., and worked at a large credit card data center.Her brother, who was her roommate, worked on Capitol Hill for the United Methodist Church.“That day in September was a gorgeous day ... a clear blue sky with a bright sun,” Bromley said. “We played the radio in our Hagerstown office and the music was interrupted by the news about a plane hitting one of the towers in New York City.”Like many, she suspected a terrorist attack at first, and was certain that was the case after the second plane hit the Twin Towers.“Several ladies started crying, and some of us started praying,” Bromley said.When a plane hit the Pentagon, she tried calling her brother in Washington because she heard another hijacked airliner was heading for the White House or the Capitol.“I tried constantly for over an hour and the lines were busy,” Bromley recalled of dialing a traditional phone. “I decided to call my mom and dad who lived in Butler and there was no answer.”She reached her parents around noon.“They didn't answer earlier because they were at a photographer's studio having their 50th wedding anniversary photo taken,” Bromley said.After being released from her office at 11 a.m., she rushed home to see the events playing out on TV.“I was mesmerized by these scenes,” Bromley said. “Never before would I have thought that someone would use a jumbo jet as a weapon to kill so many innocent people. To see so many lives lost was appalling.”She finally reached her parents a little after noon, and learned that her brother had called them and was safe.“We should never forget the terror of that day, but we need to live on as a nation of people who care for each other, show kindness to one another and, as Jesus commanded us, love one another,” Bromley said.Others found themselves closer to the situation, like Brian Hans of Oakland Township.Hans was a young firefighter with Oneida Valley Volunteer Fire Department in September 2001.
He remembers that the federal investigators working the Shanksville crash called a number of 911 centers in Western Pennsylvania two weeks after the crash to ask for volunteer firefighters to help clear the huge debris field at the site.Hans immediately volunteered after he heard that volunteers were needed for the grim task, as did one or two other firefighters from departments in the county.Hans and his colleagues arrived at the crash site and sat through a briefing by the federal investigators with about 250 other volunteers.“Then, we spent the next two days on our hands and knees cleaning up,” he said.He said the large plane parts were retrieved, but the volunteers were tasked with picking up tiny pieces of metal and other plane parts.They were also provided baggies and labels for the small human remains they came across at the huge site.The men scoured the debris field, which was in a three-mile radius from a 150-foot deep spot where the plane dove, nose-first, into the ground.Hans recalls retrieving tiny human remains and wondering whether they belonged to a victim or a hijacker.“Everything we picked up, we had to turn in,” he said. “They did DNA testing on everything. It's something you think you'd never be doing in your life.”He said the firefighters who volunteered had experience with injured and deceased victims at accident and fire scenes, so they were not bothered by the sights they endured.“But every year, you think about it,” Hans said. “There are so many thoughts in your mind of what we went through those two days.”The size and damage at the debris field amazed and horrified the firefighters as well.“I've never seen the destruction on the ground that the plane caused,” he said.He recalls a line of pine trees 50 yards from the impact site that were shredded during the crash.“Thin pieces of metal that you could bend with your fingers went through those trees and were sticking out the other side,” Hans recalled.He said every scrap of debris and remains was retrieved to prevent scavenging by locals.When he has visited the Flight 93 Memorial, he recalls the makeshift memorials local residents and organizations brought to the site.Hans is now an Oakland Township supervisor and he and his wife, Tiffanie, remain members of Oneida Valley Volunteer Fire Department, but he will never forget the events of Sept. 11, 2001, and his experiences that followed.“It was like the world stopped turning that day,” Hans said.Others commemorate Sept. 11 to this day.Carl Claypoole of New Alexandria, Westmoreland County, grew up in Karns City.Ten years ago, he bought a 2001 Yamaha V Star motorcycle from a firefighter who had the bike painted with scenes from Sept. 11.The bike was painted to honor firefighters who lost their lives on that day, and sports a “343” on the seat to commemorate the number of firefighters who were killed.
The fire at the Pentagon, the smoldering Twin Towers, an exhausted firefighter leaning on his ax and other scenes decorate the motorcycle.Claypoole said he bought the bike in honor of his sister, who is a Prospect Volunteer Fire Department firefighter.He does not ride the bike, but hauls it on a trailer or in a truck bed to shows all over the region.While he has attended only four or five shows this summer because of the coronavirus pandemic, he and his wife normally show the bike about 15 times per year from Maryland to Erie.“We have 43 trophies on the shelf, and we've shown it 45 times,” Claypoole said.Reaction to the bike is always somber, with some observers telling Claypoole that they fought the fires at the Pentagon or Twin Towers.“It's a shocker, the reaction you get from people who were involved in 9/11,” he said. “One guy shed a tear and walked away.”He is always irritated when young children don't understand the significance of the bike.“They say 'Mummy, Daddy, what's 9/11?'” Claypoole said.Regarding the machine's value, Claypoole hesitates to hazard a guess.“It's priceless,” he said. “Something that beautiful? How could you put a price on it?”
