On a cold, wind-whipped hayfield here in southwest Pennsylvania, they came to honour the 40 overshadowed, often forgotten victims of last Sept. 11 with solemn words, inspirational music and two unexpected fly-pasts that turned, almost magically, into a third.

First came the C-130s from Pittsburgh, the heavy military transport planes so low under the canopy of dark cloud it seemed as if their propellers might turn the ground, then the fighter jets in missing-man formation from Sheppard Air Force base in Texas, their sound lingering long past the sight.

And then, when it was all supposed to be over, the doves came back.

It was a moment that took away the breaths of the several thousand who had braved the elements to attend this memorial for the 40 crew and passengers who died, along with four hijackers, when United Airlines Flight 93 crashed short of its Washington target.

The doves were released after the 21-gun salute as the ceremony closed with a singing of God Bless America, and the small cloud of birds vanished almost instantly in the harsh north wind that blew all morning.

The people were stirring to leave when, suddenly, several began pointing and shouting.

Like a moving connect-the-dot puzzle against the clouds, the doves came back, in rough formation, and swept directly over the crash site before turning back over the crowd and the tent that held the families and loved ones of those who had died.

The people did as they had done for the formal fly-pasts: they applauded.

"The birds were beautiful," said 15-year-old Kelly Murtagh of nearby Friedens, who wrapped herself in the U.S. flag to keep out the chill as well as to send a message.

And so, too, was the gathering, despite the weather.

Thirty thousand had been expected, but only a fraction of that made it.

They rose before dawn, coming in busloads through the dark, the ride made all the more poignant by hundreds of candles shining from the rural homes and farmhouses along the twisting route.

The locals of Somerset County came to salute the families; the families came to remember their lost ones but also to thank the locals, who took them in last year and who, on their own time over the past year, turned this farmer's field into a remarkable monument to the third disaster of that tragic day.

More than 100 young staffers from the White House came in dark, fashionable suits to stand by the makeshift memorial wall, some breaking down in tears at the thought of what might have been.

They were here, said Tom Ridge, head of homeland security, who was governor of Pennsylvania when the plane went down, to pay tribute to those "who just might have saved their lives on Sept. 11, 2001."

Had it not been for what Mr. Ridge called the "citizen soldiers" of Flight 93 -- passengers and crew are believed to have attacked the terrorists, forcing the crash -- their plane likely would have reached its intended target.

"Hundreds, perhaps thousands of Americans survived that crash," Mr. Ridge said.

But 40, of course, did not.

United Airlines flight attendants and pilots came by the dozens to stand facing the crash site, their famous composure crumbling until, in a moment that spoke to their training, several attendants came by with boxes of tissues for their weeping colleagues.

When that failed, they stood arm in arm in a large circle and prayed together.

The day, however, belonged most of all to the families of the lost.

They put up their own poster and scribbled their own messages in red ink, none so paralyzing as that printed by a small girl, signed Jody: "I really miss you and love you, dadey."

Sandy Dahl, the wife of Flight 93 pilot Jason Dahl, spoke for the more than 500 family and friends in a strong, clear voice about the "wave of courage" that spread through the plane.

Among the last words recorded by those who managed to phone loved ones was Todd Beamer's "Let's roll!" shout to other passengers, the last sounds captured by the cockpit voice recorder were those of battle.

"After Sept. 11," Mrs. Dahl said, "we know there is no shortage of angels."

At 10:06 a.m., the moment locals heard the plane crash, a bell tolled for each of the 40 names read out.

After the ceremony, U.S. President George W. Bush and his wife, Laura, arrived by helicopter to meet with the families and laid a large wreath at the point where the doomed plane ceased moving.

"It was here," Governor Mark Schweiber said, "that freedom took its first step."

And here, where the doves came back against the wind for one final salute.