James D. Debeuneure 1943-2001 by Rachel

I sit here on the bench of James D. Debeuneure, under a tree, and just think.  This man was on the plane that crashed into the pentagon.  Water trickles underneath, and a clear blue sky scattered with cotton balls floats overhead.  On the day of September eleventh, Mr. James woke up, and began his daily commute.  He probably made contact with a loved one that day, or maybe not.  But whomever he was loved by, they were not to hear from him again.  On this day Mr. James would be one of the many people to bring a nation together in a time of heartache and heartbreak.  As far as anyone knows, his story could be just another entangled in a larger tale of our nation’s history.  But Mr. James, I look up to the heavens, and I promise you: I will never forget you.