A place of sorrow. A place of tears. A place of death. A place of inspiration. A place of hope.
A place where human courage was displayed with two simple words – “Let’s roll.”
One year after those words, a car pulls into the parking lot, amid all the sorrow, tears, death, inspiration, hope,
where those two words echo over the field and sadness hangs like a shroud over the grassy graveyard.
Three generations get out of the car, an entire family – all except one. The youngest child remains
inside. She, more than all the others, feels the sorrow, tears, death, inspiration, hope.
She, more than all the others, hears the echo of those two words – “Let’s roll.”
The others try to convince her to come out. They know the story of this place, but
they do not feel it, see it, like she does.
In the little girl’s eyes, there is more than their family, more than tourists, at the field. To her,
there are angels. To her, the heroes and victims of that day never left.
After several attempts, the family gets the girl to come out of the car.
Several years later, the family is back among the sorrow, tears, death, inspiration, hope.
Back to the echo of those two words – “Let’s roll.”
The little girl looks around the field – a memorial is under construction
around the field, that grassy graveyard. But something is different.
The angels are gone.
The heroes and victims of that day have finally moved on.
They are happy that they are remembered and are
ready to go.
The little girl tells her mother eagerly about the change.
A nearby tourist, there for the first time, overhears. At the little girl’s words
he begins to notice the sorrow, tears, death, inspiration, hope. He begins to notice
the pall of sadness – it is not a field, it is a graveyard.
Perhaps this day will stay with him.
Many years later, the little girl is not so little anymore.
She is in high school.
That day that caused so much sorrow, tears, death, inspiration, hope, was 15 years ago.
She doesn’t remember
the angels, only the stories from her mother –
the story of those two words – “Let’s roll.”
She wants to do something for those angels, for their families.
She thinks of their heroism, their courage.
She decides to make rosaries. Her classmates make
dozens of rosaries in three months. They write
cards for each family. The rosaries arrive
just in time for the holidays.
From Hawaii to Virginia, 40 families
receive a reminder of that day – the sorrow, tears, death, inspiration, hope.
And over it all is the echo
of the two words that started it all –