Nine days ago, we visited the Flight 93 National Memorial, the site of the plane that crashed en route to the Capitol Building on September 11th, 2001. This was my second visit, and it hit just the same as my first time there.

As you’d imagine, it’s an incredibly somber place, especially for anyone who remembers that day. The exterior of the memorial is angled to align with the flight path, capped by a memorial plaza and a solitary stone in the field where the plane crashed—killing everyone on board, but saving so many others.

The visitor center is relatively small but quite powerful; it feels weird to have a park bookstore there, or even a passport stamp available. No photos or videos are allowed inside, and most people have shed at least a tear or two by the time they depart. I opted not to listen to the phone calls left by those on the plane this time, a good call given how it crushes rushes you.

The approach

A pathway leads between two towering concrete walls under a cloudy sky, with a grassy area to the left and a black barrier on the right.

The end of the approach, overlooking the memorial plaza and crash site in the distance

A scenic view of a vast field is seen through a glass balustrade inscribed with the words, A common field one day. A field of honor forever.

The angles here are piercing. This is the edge the visitor center, as seen from near the end of the approach above

A tall, curved concrete structure stands against a backdrop of a blue sky with scattered clouds.

Along the memorial plaza walkway

A memorial plaque with photographs and text is mounted on a sloped concrete surface in a park setting with grass, trees, and a cloudy sky in the background.

Deer wander near the crash site, denoted by the large boulder

A grassy field with a few deer grazing is bordered by a forest under a partly cloudy sky.

The Wall of Names, Ceremonial Gate, and boulder in the distance

An expansive concrete area with a wall and a solitary tree in the background under a partly cloudy sky.

The Wall of Names, looking back up at the visitor center and approach. The gate and boulder are behind you, all lined up with the flight path.

A row of white marble panels with engraved names marks a memorial under a partly cloudy sky.

The Ceremonial Gate, with the boulder visible in the distance.

A rustic wooden gate made from vertically aligned uneven planks opens to reveal a grassy field under a cloudy sky.

Two of several outdoor interpretive displays near the memorial plaza—a small nod to the more complete interpretation in the visitor center museum.

A memorial display features photographs and names of the crew and passengers of Flight 93.

A memorial board features an image of an aircraft interior and text describing the events and passenger actions during a hijacked flight.

The Tower of Voices, which had yet to be built during my 2016 visit. This was designed as a musical instrument, built with 40 wind chimes to sound in the breeze. Unfortunately, we didn’t have enough sustained wind to hear much during our visit, though you can hear what it sounds like thanks for a nearby push-button speaker.

A tall, slender tower stands in a grassy area under a cloudy sky, with an informational plaque in the foreground.

A tall, modern concrete tower with a geometric design stands against a backdrop of a cloudy sky.

A modern architectural structure features a series of vertical columns and cylindrical elements set against a partly cloudy sky.

There’s more to the site, of course, but I didn’t capture it on this visit. Besides, photos don’t relate the feeling you have in reliving this day, you just need to go there yourself. So if you find yourself in western Pennsylvania, I recommend you stop by.