SHANKSVILLE, Pa. — When Somerset County Coroner Wallace Miller answered his phone the morning of Sept. 11, 2001, he thought he was on the receiving end of a poorly timed prank.

But the grim news that United Airlines Flight 93 crashed onto a Shanksville area strip mine was all too real – and also the beginning of a 10-year “journey” alongside the families of the 40 men and women who died that day, he said in a recent address at the Flight 93 National Memorial.

While the aftermath of 9/11 was often one of heartache and horror, there were also touching moments Miller said he’ll never forget.

Miller spoke to a crowd of approximately 130 people as part of an ongoing Friends of Flight 93 Series at the national memorial’s Learning Center.

National Park Service officials who introduced him at the event described the event as a unique one, noting that Miller served as the lone liaison to family members who lost loved ones that day – and that the coroner hasn’t spoken about it at the site very often.

Miller told the group he wanted to leave the “history books” stuff to the National Park Service and its memorial.

He instead focused on his personal memories — both of the day of the crash and the years that followed.

‘Big trouble’

Sept. 11 would serve as a life-changer for Miller.

But if his schedule had been a bit different that week, he might not have been anywhere near Shanksville when Flight 93 crashed.

The Pennsylvania Coroners Association’s annual convention was getting underway that week – and nearly every one of his colleagues were already in Harrisburg, he said.

“It just happened to work out that I was still at home when I got the call,” he said.

The 911 system was “a mess,” Miller said, adding that he ended up hearing about the crash from a Cambria County Coroner’s Office staff member who called to see if he needed backup.

“I was like, ‘What are you talking about? This isn’t something to joke about right now,’ ” Miller recalled.

Instead, it was a scenario the second-generation coroner said he never could have imagined.

He arrived looking for a plane and instead found a crater and scattered debris.

There were tiny fires throughout 100 acres of strip mine land.

The odor of unburned jet fuel lingered in the air – and the remains of what was once a mammoth 757 was now scattered among the trees, he said.

“I could hear melted plastic dripping through those trees,” Miller said.

Before long, the flood of first responders – familiar faces Miller recognized from countless accident scenes – were gone, and he was surrounded by federal agents who were quietly at work.

The coroner suddenly had the job of gathering, storing and identifying the fragmented remains of 44 people.

And the world was watching, he said.

“There was all of this stuff I had no control over … yet I was the guy who was going to be responsible for everything,” Miller said.

The ‘face’ of Somerset

Before long, his phone was ringing again.

One minute, it was a distraught Flight 93 family member.

“The next thing you know, it’s a journalist from Russia calling,” he said.