For those people who read this without knowing me, let me make a few introductory remarks. I'm almost 52 years old. I gave up running over three years ago due to aches in my joints, so I am not the athlete I once was. I am a Boeing 757 & 767 Captain for American Airlines, and I served for 15 years in the U.S. Air Force, both active and reserve. I live in Florida, and I fly out of Miami International Airport. As an American Airlines Pilot, I had flown both American Airlines airplanes that were hijacked and used as weapons to attack the United States on September 11, 2001.

Having had a full two months to absorb all emotions from this attack, I have concluded that the United States must engage in a war against the terrorists who engage is such acts. The reason we must do this is to keep such attacks from recurring. While this will be a difficult war, we can win, we must win, and we must not give up. It will be long and costly in so very many ways. Like the Flag Run, this war will be a test of endurance, determination, dedication, and commitment.

It is with this attitude I set out on the "AMERICANS UNITED FLAGRUN". I had one simple purpose in joining this event. I needed to see for myself how the citizens of the United States would respond to this event. The FLAGRUN was dedicated to all who lost their lives in this attack. It was a call to patriotism, it was a call to cherish our freedom, and it was a call to arms.

I first learned of FLAGRUN through the email of American Airlines. It must be noted that American Airlines had no official connection to this event, but merely allowed its email to be used to spread word of the event. I soon checked the FLAGRUN website, discovering that the run had been routed through my hometown of Miami, Arizona. With this knowledge, I knew that I had to participate in Arizona. I volunteered, and thus began a flurry of emails and telephone calls to make the FLAGRUN within Arizona, a success.

The run coordinator for Eastern Arizona, Angela Langer, asked me to help anyway I could in the Globe-Miami area. I placed a phone call to a family friend named Bob Zache. Bob writes a column for the "Arizona Silverbelt", a weekly paper covering Globe and Miami. Bob enthusiastically endorsed the FLAGRUN, and various infrastructure events began. Bob brought in the editor of the "Silverbelt", Ellen Kretsch. The two of them publicized the event, sought sponsors, runners, and planned local ceremonies during the Flag's visit. Their efforts made the Flag's visit to Eastern Arizona and especially the towns of Globe and Miami a huge success.

For those unfamiliar with the geography of Eastern Arizona, it is quite mountainous. Clearly, this area from Show Low through Superior, Arizona would be the most difficult terrain of the run. The elevation of Show Low is about 6,300 feet. Superior is at approximately 2,800 feet. About 35 miles west of Show Low lies Salt River Canyon. The East Side of the canyon consists of 5.3 miles of switchback turns and a descent of over 2,000 feet. The West Side is an even steeper climb of over 2,000 feet in 4.9 miles. Once out of the canyon, there is a long climb of about 2 miles with a change of elevation of almost 1,000 feet. There are many other elevation changes along the route, which are substantial too. This route would be an enormous challenge. The road from Miami to Superior represented the most hazardous 17 miles of road for traffic reasons. This area too is quite mountainous, and the road is very narrow. There is also quite a lot of traffic. The Arizona High Patrol was not happy about us running this stretch. We did run this section, and the Arizona Highway Patrol did a magnificent job controlling traffic, and keeping the runners safe.

I had about two weeks to do some training to get in shape. Unfortunately, I was immediately beset with injury from too sedentary an existence. With the help of the physical therapists at Palm Beach Orthopedic Institute, I was finally able to achieve some training, and was able to run at least one mile.

On November 5th, I flew from West Palm Beach to Phoenix. I spent the night with my brother John and his wife, Susie. John is a retired Air Force Colonel, and F-15 Pilot. John had volunteered to help the FLAGRUN. We left Phoenix on November 6th, driving east to meet the Flag. We planned to meet the Flag near the town of Show Low. We reached Miami late in the morning, stopping for lunch with very dear family friends, Sam and Joyce Napp. Sam, who is retired, had worked in the local copper mines with our father. After lunch, we stopped by the office of the "Silverbelt" to meet with Ellen Kretsch. We exchanged final information, and set plans for the next day when the flag would travel through Globe and Miami. John & I left Globe traveling the 100 or so miles to Show Low. We arrived in Show Low about 4:30 PM on November 6th. The Flag was scheduled to arrive in Show Low at 6:41 PM. We decided to drive further east to meet the flag. About 14 miles east of Show Low, we saw it, and pulled off to wait its arrival. As the runners drew near, we took a few photos. The Flag Bearer ran to us offering the Flag to me. I told him we would be with it for the next 24 hours, but I held the Flag for just a moment. We then introduced ourselves to the occupants of the support van. Ken White, the main Arizona Coordinator, was driving the van. We agreed to meet them at the Show Low assembly point at 6:30 P.M. We had seen it! It was real! Both John & I were excited as we drove back to Show Low. Our turn was coming!

We arrived at the gathering point about 6:15 P.M. Several people were there anxiously awaiting the Flag. We met Theresa who was coordinating the runners from Show Low to the bottom of Salt River Canyon. Theresa is a flight attendant for Southwest Airlines, while her husband John is an American Pilot now on furlough because of the attacks of September 11th. Both of them would be running that night. The night air was turning cool, and anticipation was growing. My brother John was going to drive his truck and ferry the runner's back to their cars. Ken asked me to drive the support van.

As we started west, three Marines from the Show Low recruiting station ran with the Flag. They were joined by several citizens of Show Low, including a Girl Scout Troop. We made our way through town to the cheers of many locals. As we neared the western edge of town, I saw an elderly couple at a lone intersection. As we passed the man turned away wiping tears from his eyes. Further on, a man ran up to the van with a bag of fresh picked apples. The lights of town disappeared being replaced by a clear black night in this ponderosa pine forest. The stars shown brightly and the visibility was quite good.

There were two runners now, one man, and one woman. They ran a solid 5 miles. In the van were three ladies, (The Mary Atterberry Group). These ladies were serious runners. A fourth lady of their group would join us down the road. She was coming from work. It was now approaching 9:00 P.M. These ladies were scheduled to take the Flag to Carrizo, Arizona. Carrizo serves as the entry point to the White Mountain Apache Indian Reservation. As the man and woman completed their run, one of Mary's ladies jumped out of the van and began her run. She was now the solo flag bearer. Sometime during this run, the fourth lady from Show Low, Jolie, caught up with the van, leaving her car parked on the side of the dark road. We continued on, the ladies making small talk, and cheering each other on. By 11:00 P.M. it was Jolie's turn. She set a quick pace, and was facing some serious upslope. After 4 miles Jolie stopped, unable to continue. I decided to take my turn, as I was the only one who had not yet run. I knew I had about a mile to go to Carrizo. Surely, I could make that.

I took the flag and began to run up the hill into the night. As this necessitated a driver change for the van. I got quite far out in front. It was exhilarating running in the cold night air. I was completely alone with the Flag surrounded by darkness. It was an awesome few moments as the van caught up to me. After about 400 yards, my breathing became labored. My legs grew tired, and I began to have a mega dose of self-doubt. The air seemed bitterly cold, and the road unbelievably steep. My breath came in huge wheezes. Where the hell was that damn Carrizo service station? I became aware of two runners beside me. One was Theresa, and the other was a United Captain named Martin. They ran so effortlessly and silently. I felt like a plodding asthmatic. Finally as we rounded a turn, the lights from the service station shown brightly. I immediately felt better. We ran on for an eternity, yet the light seemed no closer. Now I was angry. I just wanted this to be over! Finally the Arizona National Guard Humvee that was the lead vehicle turned in to the service station. In another 100 yards I could stop. I had never been so relieved!

As I entered the service area, I became aware of several cars parked randomly about. As I entered the lighted area, car horns started honking and a great cheer rang out. Apache Indians surged into the light clapping and cheering the Flag. The first to reach me was a young boy madly waving his own American Flag. His eyes were big and bright. He wore the biggest smile I have ever seen. I offered the Flag to him, and he gave me his. About 100 Apaches surrounded the two of us still clapping and cheering. Physically I was a wreck, but emotionally I was in the stratosphere. My brother approached me after the Apaches had moved off. He said, "Brother you look like hell." I responded, "I wish I felt that good."

I did manage to recover reasonably quickly. Soon the Apaches found out we had T-shirts to sell. They all bought at least one. The price was $15.00. Many Apaches gave $20.00 telling us to keep the change. Once in their T-shirts, we began taking pictures of them with the Flag. On man, Dallas Massey gave me his business card. He was the Tribal Council Chairman. He asked me to forward on the photos I was taking. I readily agreed. One young man asked me to sign his T-shirt. Soon we were all signing everyone's T-shirt. A man holding a sleeping toddler in his arms approached me. He said the following: "I think what you are doing is wonderful. I am so proud and happy to be here. My sister is on a ship in the Arabian Sea. I am so proud of her, and I miss her so much. This means so much to me." It was a dark night, and I was flushed from running, so I doubt anyone saw my tears. I really didn't care if they did.

After some fifteen minutes, it was time to start the run. I was driving the van again. Dallas Massey took the Flag. About 25 Apaches, men women, and children joined him. Off they went into the black of midnight. Soon the children and older ones dropped out. At every turnout of the road, Apaches would cheer us on. After two miles Dallas and a young girl were the only remaining runners. They ran a 7-minute mile pace for almost 3.5 miles. They turned the Flag back to Martin, the United Airlines Captain. They smiled broadly and waved good bye. They had done their part. I'll never forget Carrizo and those wonderful Apaches.

Martin continued to run the flag. Eventually, Theresa's husband John joined Martin, and then took over. A solid marathon runner named Michael Flynn took the flag. He would run the next 20 or so miles to the bottom of Salt River Canyon. The other people in the van slept. I truly enjoyed the night. A half moon had risen casting a soft light. It was truly beautiful and spiritual. All during this time, I do not remember one car passing us.

At the bottom of Salt River Canyon we took about a 15-minute break, assembling new runners, and making arrangements to return the earlier runners to their cars. My brother, John, once again drove back over the road we had just traveled ferrying runners. We set a plan to attack the canyon. We were prepared to alternate runners every mile or so. The first runner was named Elvis. He was an Apache of the San Carlos Tribe. About 2:00 A.M. we began the run out of Salt River Canyon. I continued to drive the van.

Elvis set a steady pace up the 6% gradient. He was running about a 9-minute mile. Elvis continued past one mile. At 2 miles a runner named Bob joined him. At 3 miles Bob retired to the van. Elvis ran on. At 4.5 miles of the 4.9-mile canyon climb, Elvis stopped. Ken had joined him, and ran the Flag out of the canyon. Once out of the canyon there was a relatively flat spot of almost 2 miles. This was followed by a 2-mile climb of almost 1,000 feet. Elvis joined Ken, and the two ran this stretch. At the top Ken retired to the van. Elvis ran on. Elvis would run the next 22 plus miles to Globe. Elvis gets my vote for most valuable runner of the entire Flagrun. I doubt anyone ran farther, and I know no one ran on such difficult terrain.

Accompanying Elvis were members of his family. They were traveling in two vehicles. They would pull ahead of us, waiting for us to pass. As we passed they would cheer with joyous vigor. They continued to do this until noon. Talk about support!

Salt River Canyon was safely behind, as well as, the big hill after the canyon. Sunlight was beginning to show. We were approaching the boundary of the San Carlos Apache Reservation. We were now back on Forest Service Land. A large utility truck painted green approached us its air horn blaring As it passed I noticed the name "Globe Hotshots" painted on it. The Globe Fire Fighters had arrived.

The Globe Hotshots turned around passing us again, then pulled off about a quarter mile ahead. A dozen or so runners disembarked from the truck. As the Flag approached, several of the fire fighters joined the run passing the Flag around. The Hotshots truck joined the parade of vehicles. The San Carlos Apache Police who had provided our escort on the reservation turned that duty over to the Arizona Highway Patrol from Globe. About this time, the Flagrun National Team of Mike Burr, Frank LaCorte, and Gary Rivensen joined us. They had slept for a few hours in Show Low. Gary took over driving the van.

After a few miles, we took a short break. The lead Highway patrolman, named Dave joined the runners. As it was a long downhill stretch, I decided to run again. Soon I realized the pace was faster than I could manage. I gamely tried to keep up. A young female firefighter saw my plight, and dropped back to run with me. After a mile or so, I was done. I stopped. She asked me if I was all right. After I nodded, she smiled and said bye-bye, sprinting off to join the Flag. Humility is such a wonderful thing. I retired to the van.

About 7;30 A.M. we stopped for another short break. Bob Zache and Ellen Kretsch joined the group, as did other runners from Globe. With the most difficult part of the run behind us, it was clear we were close to 2 hours ahead of pace. As Globe was going to host a short ceremony for the Flag and its Bearers, we needed to be on time. We decided to stop near the Gila County Fairgrounds to delay our arrival. We needed to lose about 1 hour and thirty minutes. I resumed driving the van. The running contingent varied from 10 to 20 as we continued to the Fairgrounds.

While the runners rested at the Fairgrounds, Ken , Bob Zache , and I drove the van to Globe to refuel, resupply the ice chest, and dump the lavatory. The fuel, supplies, and lavatory dumping were all donations to the Flagrun. During this time, we could see that lots of people were coming out to welcome the Flag. I was profoundly proud.

We entered Globe with about 50 runners. People lined the roadway. They came out of restaurants, offices, houses, etc. Passing cars honked horns, everyone cheered, waved, and called out to the runners. We approached East Globe Elementary School. Children were lined up along the fence, and across the overpass above the road. The road was under construction here, and our Flag Parade effectively stopped traffic. No one complained. The noise of celebration was unbelievable! The Runners carried the Flag into the schoolyard. The kids were jubilant! About a mile farther on Globe High School Students lined the street. The Jr. ROTC lined one block saluting. The band played patriotic songs. On to the old Gila County Courthouse where the town's official hosting of the flag commenced. Several hundred people filled the street in front of the Courthouse. The Flag was welcomed with short speeches, the Pledge of Allegiance, and the singing of God Bless America. The wheelchair bound President of the Globe Lions Club carried the Flag for a ceremonial block as the Flag resumed its Westward trek. Globe, Arizona had served as proxy for small towns across America. The people of Globe were proud to have the Flag pass through town, and had responded wonderfully.

For those unfamiliar with the towns, Globe and Miami seem to blend together. Locals know differently. The Flag continued to draw people as we left Globe and entered Miami. At the Wal-Mart gathering point, we stopped to gather new runners, and take a short break. The Globe Hotshots left the run. Along with the American Flag, we carried a banner of black cloth strips. On these strips were the names of the flight crewmembers killed on September 11th. I was holding this banner when a mom with a young boy and a young girl approached. The young girl asked about the cloth strips. I showed them to her, and we read each name. She understood.

Miami, Arizona is an old copper mining town fallen on hard times Much of the town is boarded up. Still it retains its character, and Miami too hosted the Flag with a short ceremony. These mining people are tough, hard working, a bit salty, and patriotic. I saw my Dad's good friend Sam Napp in the crowd. I invited him into the van with me. I recognized other people from my past including Lizzy Zache, Bob's mother. It was a joyous time for me. I drove the van to the west edge of Miami. There I would leave the Flagrun officially. However I did have a couple of special favors left.

Ellen Kretsch had asked the Army at Fort Huachuca, Arizona to provide runners from Miami to Superior. Twenty-eight army troops eagerly awaited their run. They had driven almost 200 miles for this moment. Before the Army runners began their duty, I asked the Captain for a special favor. He agreed. John, Sam, and I drove 4 miles West of Miami to Mountain Breezes Cemetery. As the Flag made its way up the hill to the cemetery, John took the Flag, and we ran to a large granite bolder containing the ashes of our Dad. We placed the Flag on Dad's Rock. Sam took pictures, the Army runners respectfully stood behind us. I started to carry the Flag back to the highway. Sam intercepted me, and asked for the Flag. This septuagenarian paratrooper from World War II sprinted out of the cemetery with the Flag held high. It was a proud and priceless moment. I know Dad loved it! The Army runners took the Flag and headed west. John, Sam & I returned to Miami.

The next afternoon, John & I once again met the Flag in Peoria, Arizona. We were just outside Luke Air Force Base heading North on Litchfield Rd. Our Mom with several of her friends from Sierra Winds Retirement Home was there to see the Flag. I joined the Luke Air Force Base runners. I told them about the group ahead. They gave me the Flag and fell in single file as we approached. I stopped, handing the Flag to Mom. We handed the Flag to each member of this "Greatest Generation". Their smiles said it all. In a few minutes the Flag resumed its westward journey.

After John's son Pat got off work, we again drove to the Flag. This time we were west of Wickenberg, Arizona. It was now night- time again. The current runners were good ones setting a pace that I could not hope to match. Pat joined in for a mile or so. He rested a while in the van. He ran a second time, as I tried to get some photos while running. I went back to the van, and asked if anyone needed a ride back to Wickenberg. One runner named Vick said yes. John was joining the runners, so Vick and I went to retrieve his truck. Vick is a former Marine, and current mechanic for American Airlines in Chicago. He had felt the need to join the Flagrun, and had traveled from Chicago to Wickenberg to do just that.

I had felt a calling to be part of this Patriotic Event. I wanted to see how the people of America would respond to it. I hope this narrative gives you a slight indication of the gratification I feel. America is Good. America is Kind. America is Giving. America is Loving. America is Tough. We're going to be OK.

As I write this, my company, American Airlines has suffered another crash. Flight 587 went down near JFK Airport in New York. This is grim news, and so hard to bear. It is horrible for Flight 587's crew and passengers, their families and loved ones. It is horrible for the U.S. airline industry. It is horrible for American Airlines. It is horrible for the freedom to travel. It is horrible for the United States. I look to the Flagrun to provide me with inspiration, hope, perseverance, dedication, and commitment. God willing, We'll be OK.

A final thought: I see from Flagrun web-site that flight 587 Captain Ed States is pictured carrying the Flag. This fact makes me both sad and proud. Although I do not know any of the crewmembers of light 587 personally, I do feel an extraordinary bond. That is particularly true realizing that we both carried the same Flag. As I write this on 16 Nov 2001, it is clear that the pilots of 587 were confronting an extraordinary flight control problem. They are heroes to me. I offer my prayers for them as well as all of those who perished and their families.

God Bless,

David R. "Smokey" Stover, American Airlines

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