Flight 93

\\\... Giving life for other, upon the stairs, or in the sky, .../// \\\... Gives every American Patriotic surge, and a reason why ...///

Once more the time for me to send,
The poem I send, each year,
The memory, keep alive and defend,
Of Flight Ninety Three Hero's here:

Flight 93
By Arley Steinhour 091102 mod 091115

You wake up in the morning,
an ordinary Joe;
preparing for the routine,

of a young man on the go.

Shower, shave, teeth brushed on fly,
you have packed your bag to leave;
kiss your wife and kids goodbye,
brush talcum from your sleeve.

The taxi ride is routine,
to where you'll go aloft;
as sun is lighting up the sky,
where clouds are white and soft.

You feel the plane lift off the ground,
Your preflight jitters fade;
Great wife, kids, and job you think,
'I really have it made.'

Minutes into flight time,
you get the dreaded news;
five hijackers, they be haters,
of our Christians and our Jews.

The message from the bad guys is,
"Be smart, against us, lend no hand";
You know that throughout history,
they'll just fly somewhere and land.

They'll rant and rave excessively,
Ransom they'll demand;
Call for release, from a jail,
Members of their band.

Your nervousness is soon replaced,
With total, abject, fear;
As flight crew and the pilot,
Are pushed roughly to the rear.

The pilot says that something's wrong,
Hijackers, now, the plane, will fly;
And if he doesn't do it right,
Then everyone will die.

The cell phone in your pocket,
Handy and maybe works;
Call your wife to tell her,
'Plane hijacked, by some jerks.'

She tells you with a deep concern,
Twin Towers have been struck;
And then you know beyond a doubt,
You've all ran out of luck.

The plane is going Southeast,
D.C. is on that track;
The aircraft is a weapon;
You have to take it back.

The plane has over fifty souls,
D.C. has thousands more;
The choice is simply who may die,
From this heinous act of war.

You tell your wife you love her,
But you have a job to do;
You will make the plane secure,
By subduing those crazy few.

You tell her that you may not live,
As something may go wrong;
These people don't want money,
They want to kill our freedom song.

The last words that your wife will hear,
Brands freedoms corporate soul;
A battle cry, no better made,
Than what you said: "Let's Roll."

Spectator, you no longer be,
Your heart hears drum and fife;
Something must be done, and quick,
To save more innocent life.

Into freedoms history,
And shirking not your charge;
Bad guys lose, good guys win,
The price is very large.

You brought us all together,
That very fateful way;
The standard raised for "Patriot,"
You few have set this day.

Rest well you friends of country,
God bless, and keep your souls;
Patriots, can die, but once;
While, cowards live in holes!

AMEN

May what the passengers of Flt 93 did that day be the standard met,
As they accomplished the same standard meted by Jesus:
"No one shows greater love, than when he lays down life for friends."
Flight 93 Hero's saved, many 'Friends.'