On Flight 93, she called her stepmother as terrorists took control
On Flight 93, she called her stepmother as terrorists took control. Her last words weren’t about fear—they were an apology for making it harder on her family. Then she fought back.
On the morning of September 11, 2001, Honor Elizabeth Wainio woke up in her New Jersey apartment, got ready for work, and headed to Newark Airport.
She was 27 years old, working as a district manager for Discovery Channel Stores. She had a business meeting in San Francisco. It was supposed to be a routine Tuesday morning flight.
She boarded United Airlines Flight 93 at 8:00 a.m. The Boeing 757 took off at 8:42 a.m., delayed by 42 minutes due to routine runway traffic.
That delay would change everything.
While Flight 93 was still on the ground, American Airlines Flight 11 had already crashed into the North Tower of the World Trade Center at 8:46 a.m. While Flight 93 taxied for takeoff, United Airlines Flight 175 hit the South Tower at 9:03 a.m.
Flight 93 was in the air, climbing to cruising altitude, when American Airlines Flight 77 crashed into the Pentagon at 9:37 a.m.
The passengers on Flight 93 didn’t know yet. They were settling in for a cross-country flight, reading newspapers, working on laptops, making phone calls.
Then at 9:28 a.m., 46 minutes into the flight, four hijackers stormed the cockpit. They murdered the pilot and co-pilot. They turned the plane around, heading east toward Washington, D.C.
The passengers were herded to the back of the plane. The hijackers claimed they had a bomb. They told everyone to stay calm, to stay seated.
But the passengers had cell phones and airphones. As they made frantic calls to loved ones, they learned what had happened in New York and at the Pentagon. They realized this wasn’t a hostage situation. This was a suicide mission.
And they realized they were the only ones who could stop it.
At 9:53 a.m., Honor Wainio managed to get through to her stepmother, Esther Heymann, using an airphone on the back of a seat.
Honor’s voice was calm. Eerily calm for someone facing death at 27 years old, 30,000 feet in the air, with terrorists in control of the plane.
She told Esther what was happening. Hijackers. Weapons. The plane was being flown toward a target. The passengers were planning to fight back.
Then Honor said something that Esther would never forget:
“I’m so sorry that this is so much harder for you guys than it is for me.”
In the final minutes of her life, facing certain death, Honor Wainio apologized for the pain her family was about to experience.
Not “I’m scared.” Not “save me.” Not “why is this happening?”
An apology. For their pain. Not hers.
Honor and Esther talked for about four minutes. Honor was calm, focused, thinking clearly despite the chaos. She told Esther she loved her. She asked Esther to tell her father and her mother that she loved them.
