Pat and Ron Reinbold know it can be an emotional experience for visitors at Flight 93 National Memorial.

Those emotions can range from sadness to anger as visitors contemplate what happened Sept. 11, 2001, in the Somerset County field before them.

But what’s important is that they feel uplifted about how the 40 passengers and crew members aboard United Flight 93 came together to thwart a terrorist attack on the aircraft, saving lives at its intended target, believed to be the U.S. Capitol Building, Ron Reinbold said.

“I tell them I want them to feel the memorial, not just look at it,” he said.

The Reinbolds are dedicating their retirement, and lives, to making sure park visitors remember. Married 58 years, the pair of retired teachers — grade school for Pat and university professor for Ron — have found a niche in memorizing every aspect of the memorial and the 40 passengers and crew.

The Reinbolds have been volunteers there for the past 15 years, starting just as the permanent memorial was beginning to take shape. On Thursday, they led the Pledge of Allegiance at the Stonycreek site during the 24th observance of the plane crash.

A few hundred visitors attended the somber ceremony under a sunny blue sky, with most standing along a gate to listen and watch. A light breeze swept through the memorial plaza, lifting leaves showing a hint of fall behind the Wall of Names. Family members stepped to a microphone and said the name of their loved ones, followed by the ringing of bells.

Gov. Josh Shapiro participated in a national wreath laying at noon.

The Reinbolds volunteer as ambassadors two days a week, driving about 30 minutes from their home outside Johnstown. Pat typically answers questions at the visitor center while Ron helps at the Memorial Plaza and Wall of Names. They both impart the symbolism of the memorial, created by architect Paul Murdoch, on visitors and help them grasp the gravity of what happened and the story of the people who died there.

“It’s just been part of our life,” Pat said. “If we’re not here, then we miss it.”

The Rev. Robert J. Way asked during a prayer at the ceremony for continued healing and comfort for the families of those aboard Flight 93 “as they continue to mourn after many years, because loss is always loss.”

He was a new pastor at the Good Shepherd Lutheran Cooperative in Shanksville on Sept. 11, 2001, and later served as a volunteer ambassador and helped with the vision for the memorial.

“What was once a common field is now a field of honor,” he said. “It is our privilege to continue moving forward to preserve and nurture this hallowed place, hallowed not by us but by the lives of your loved ones.”

Park superintendent Stephen Clark said the dedication of so many outside agencies in support of the memorial helps to make sure it will live on for future generations.

“Let us never forget, when the events of Sept. 11 have passed from living memory, it is our hope that this awe-inspiring memorial created through the tireless efforts of so many will allow future generations to embrace the powerful story of Flight 93,” he said.

Clark thanked the Reinbolds for their 15 years of volunteer service after the Pledge of Allegiance.

“Mr. and Mrs. Reinbold, as I like to refer to them,” he said. “I would also like to thank all of our Flight 93 volunteer ambassadors, both past and present, for their unwavering commitment in fulfilling our mission.”

The Reinbolds were intimately involved with the creation of the memorial — their son Jeff was project manager for construction with the National Park Service and later became superintendent of the site. He was working in Denver with the agency in September 2001 and requested to help with the project, his mother said. He’s since moved on from the park.

“His heart is still here,” she said.

The Reinbolds are part of a group of about 25 active volunteer ambassadors. They see visitors of all ages who come from around the world, some of whom know very little about what happened there.

When he’s explaining the story and the memorial’s symbolism, he can see when visitors start to understand and sometimes break down and cry, Ron Reinbold said. It’s then that he’s glad his eyeglasses are dark and they can’t see a tear streaming from his eye.

“I feel part of it,” he said. “We both feel that way.”

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