Passenger Tom Burnett told his wife that a group of passengers was preparing to act.
Todd Beamer spoke with a telephone operator.
Jeremy Glick spoke with his wife.
Others left final messages for the people they loved.
There was no guarantee they could retake the aircraft.
They were unarmed civilians confronting hijackers who had already seized control of a Boeing 757.
But the information from the ground changed the calculation.
If they did nothing, Flight 93 could be used to kill hundreds or perhaps thousands more.
So they chose to act.
9:57 A.M.
At approximately 9:57 a.m., the passenger and crew counterattack began.
The cockpit voice recorder captured the struggle.
The hijacker flying the aircraft responded by violently rolling Flight 93 left and right and pitching its nose up and down, attempting to throw the passengers off balance.
But they continued.
The sounds recorded in the cockpit showed that the assault did not stop.
The passengers were getting closer.
The hijackers eventually faced a decision: continue toward Washington and risk losing control of the aircraft, or deliberately crash it.
At 10:03:11 a.m., Flight 93 slammed into an empty field near Shanksville, Pennsylvania.
Everyone aboard was killed.
Lauren was 38.
Her unborn child died with her.
The Target They Never Reached
Flight 93 was the only one of the four hijacked aircraft on September 11 that failed to reach the hijackers' intended target.
The official 9/11 Commission concluded that the aircraft was heading toward Washington, D.C., and that the intended target was the U.S. Capitol or the White House.
Later evidence has made the Capitol the most likely target.
The National Park Service notes that hijacker-pilot Ziad Jarrah entered the frequency for a navigational aid at Washington Reagan National Airport shortly before the passenger uprising.
The U.S. Capitol was filled that morning with lawmakers, staff, police officers, journalists and visitors.
Exactly how many people would have died had Flight 93 reached Washington can never be known.
But the consequence of the passengers' decision is clear.
The aircraft never reached the capital.
The 9/11 Commission summarized the outcome in unusually direct language: the hijacker pilot had intended to strike a symbol of the American government, but he was defeated by the alerted, unarmed passengers of Flight 93.
They could not save themselves.
But their actions prevented the hijackers from completing their mission.
Jack Woke Up to a Different World
Back in California, Jack Grandcolas had gone to sleep expecting his pregnant wife to come home.
When he awoke, America was under attack.
The television was filled with images that were almost impossible to comprehend.
The World Trade Center was burning.
The Pentagon had been struck.
Then came reports of an aircraft crashing in Pennsylvania.
Flight 93.
Jack eventually heard Lauren's message.
The ordinary first voicemail—telling him she had managed to catch an earlier flight—now carried an unbearable irony.
She had changed flights because she wanted to get home sooner.
The second message was something else entirely.
It was goodbye.
For Jack, September 11 meant losing two people.
His wife.
And their unborn child.
Lauren and Her Unborn Child
That second loss has never been erased from Lauren's memorial.
At the National September 11 Memorial in New York City, the inscription reads:
Lauren Catuzzi Grandcolas and her unborn child.
The National Park Service likewise lists her among Flight 93's passengers as Lauren Catuzzi Grandcolas and unborn child.
That wording is important.
It preserves the future Lauren and Jack were expecting.
The child had never been born.
Jack never got to discover all the things parents gradually learn about their children.
What would the baby look like?