Don Kimball

I was one of the UAL crewmembers who brought the B767 that was taken the morning of 9/11 (UAL175) into Boston the evening of 9/10. We narrowly escaped by hours being murdered by Islamic terrorists. Our purser missed going back on the trip by just minutes because he was not legal for it. I’ll never forget him arguing with the crew desk that he would waive the rest requirements, but to no avail. When I saw him a month or so later we hugged knowing what almost happened to him.

I wrote this poem days after 9/11 as I volunteered at Logan and felt the strange silence.

Silent Skies

The skies turned deadly, the Twin Towers black, from nowhere they came to reign their terrorist
attack.

The skies were made silent, no planes graced the sky, we asked how this could happen, no one could answer why.

Gone were our friends, family and coworkers too.

Taken from us, before there time here was due.

The scenes of horror still haunt us all, images of terror both large and small.

Perhaps one day we will forget that terrible day in September, but the memory of those we lost will live on forever.

We shall seek our peace as we go about our days, and we shall remember in so many ways.

The lives taken, the innocence lost, we shall seek justice, though heavy the cost.

For now we take back to the skies with a wing and a prayer, and know that they are with us, somewhere up there.

Dedicated to the Crew of UAL175.

  1. W. Kimball Jr.