Mark Bingham was a passenger on Flight 93. He called his mother to report the hijacking. This Pittsburgh Post-Gazette article reported Bingham's story.
One passenger was late. Mark Bingham had overslept and his friend, Matthew Hall, drove madly from Manhattan to Newark. They screeched to a halt outside Terminal A at 7:40. Bingham leapt from the car, lugging the old, blue-and-gold canvas bag he'd used as a rugby player at the University of California at Berkeley a decade earlier.
United attendants reopened the door to the boarding ramp and let him on the plane.
Bingham slipped into a seat in aisle 4-D, next to Thomas Burnett. Nine minutes after Hall dropped him off, Bingham picked up his cell phone.
"Hey, it's me," he said. "Thanks for driving so crazy to get me here. I'm in first class, drinking a glass of orange juice."
Alice Hoglan was visiting her sister-in-law, Kathy Hoglan, in Saratoga, Calif., when the phone rang. It was 9:42 Eastern time. Kathy's nephew, Mark Bingham was on the line.
"Alice, talk to Mark," Kathy said, handing her the phone. "He's been hijacked."
"Mom? This is Mark Bingham," the voice said. It sounded strange for her son to introduce himself by his full name. She knew he was flustered.
"I want to let you know that I love you. I'm on a flight from Newark to San Francisco and there are three guys who have taken over the plane and they say they have a bomb," he said.
"Who are these guys?" Alice Hoglan asked.
There was a pause. Hoglan heard murmurs of conversation in English. Mark's voice came back.
"You believe me, don't you?" he asked.
"Yes, Mark. I believe you. But who are these guys?"