Just regular people

A couple years ago, my youngest son was looking over my shoulder while I surfed the 'net on 9/11. I paused to read a blog which featured a spectacular photo of the Twin Towers burning.

My boy asked me, "What's that?"

I took a deep breath.

I told him about the towers.
I told him about the Pentagon.

And then I told him there was a fourth plane.
And how that plane didn't hit anything... because it crashed into the ground.

The people on board that plane, I explained, knew they were being hijacked. So, they shared their cell phones and called their families to say goodbye and tell them they loved them. Their families told them over the phone what had happened to the three other planes.

The people on this plane decided they would not let the hijackers cause further damage with their plane and kill more people. So, the people on this plane attacked the hijackers, and this plane crashed into a field. It hit no buildings. It harmed no one other than those on the plane.

Those people weren't soldiers. They weren't policemen or firemen. Most of them weren't trained to fight much less trained for combat. They were just people going to work, going on vacation, going to visit someone.

They were just regular people.
And they were heroes.