I often wonder about the last moments of the passengers on Flight 93, diverted from San Francisco by hijackers aiming for Washington DC six years ago today.

I wonder in quiet moments before each of my flights, or in quiet panic whenever we make abrupt course changes, mid-flight. I wonder about all the “ifs” of that day that are unique yet common fears to anyone who flies.

But when I saw this headstone in Santa Clara, I started to wonder about a whole other set of people’s moments: the families of Flight 93.

To be David and Cathy, who buried their daughter Nicole just as she turned 21. To have that unimaginable pain and loss in such a public forum. The most personal and devastating mourning, a parent losing a child, now a national remembrance.

And now a personal one too. I cried when I saw her grave. I cry now typing this. I will cry again when I read this live.

For Nicole. For David and Cathy. For every 9/11 family.

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