The overwhelming national tragedy that was 9/11 was especially piercing for me as I watched my husband, Ron, a long-time American Airlines ramp employee, stare at the TV hour after hour, knowing that he had exchanged smiles and pleasantries with some who died.

Like most people who work for huge employers, he has a relatively small circle of friends and acquaintances at American. But D/FW is an American hub, where traffic is both heavy and hectic. Ron spent much time examining the faces of the AA employees who died that day, wondering if he had crossed paths with that flight attendant or gotten a thumbs-up from that pilot after readying a plane for departure. And, if so, when?

It's hard to remember such seemingly inconsequential acts when you experience dozens of them weekly. Ron had the same paradigm shift in his views of national security that we all did. But, for him, realizing that the impersonal nature of his job meant he would never remember the extent of his interactions with those who died was haunting.

No airline worker needs a reminder of 9/11; it's a part of the collective consciousness of every clerk, pilot, flight attendant, agent or mechanic. Watershed events in other industries are similarly embedded in their makeup. Think of the Vietnam War's impact on the military. Or the two space shuttle explosions and their effect on the space industry.

A group of senior flight attendants, friends of many who died on flights 11 and 77, wanted a remembrance unique to D/FW, a memorial not intended for public scrutiny or comment. Passengers can't even see it unless they happen to be flying out of one of three gates. But for the workers of American Airlines, the quietly understated banners hanging on the outside wall of the connector building between Terminals A and C are reminders of a dark day and testaments to the unity and strength that drew them together, at least for a time.

Painted on two identical white canvases are the names of all American personnel who died on 9/11 under the bold red legend: "You Will Not Be Forgotten." Centered between those two banners, directly behind the flag, is another banner with the words, "For the Love of our Country, For the Love of our Industry, For the Love of American Airlines."

The fallout from 9/11 never seems to end. United and American took incredible financial hits from the loss of planes, forced groundings as heightened security measurements were enacted, passengers too scared to fly, and, of course, the employees themselves who perished on the planes.

United Airlines was forced to declare bankruptcy, a fate nearly shared by American until, in an unprecedented act, American's three major unions conceded pay and benefits to keep the company afloat. Just as things began to improve, the entire national economy was hit with an enormous rise in gas prices, with airlines among the hardest hit.

The ramifications from the war on terror are at least partly to blame for the higher costs. Thus, the legacy of 9/11 continues for every airline employee – and for all of us.

Most of us have a very unfavorable opinion of our experiences on airlines these days and with good reason. Delayed flights, lost bags and FAA nonsense resulting in thousands of flights being put out of service are infuriating.

But the next time you find yourself seething as the line through security inches along, remember the understated homage that flutters over the tarmac between Terminals A and C. It represents American's – and America's – greatest and most vulnerable moments.

All the public displays of grief, all the memorials, all the testimonies with which we honor our fellow citizens who died that day are appropriate and necessary, especially this week. But in these times of continuing uncertainty for all airlines, it's especially poignant to realize that, here in North Texas, an industry giant quietly honors its fallen heroes as it goes about the everyday business of getting us where we need to be.

Vickie McKillip of Carrollton is an administrative assistant at her church and a Community Voices volunteer columnist. Her e-mail address is rvmckillip@verizon.net.