In a story that bridges the gap between everyday joys and profound tragedy, Jevon Castrillo of Fort Pierce, Florida, recently received a handwritten letter from his late mother, Cee Cee Ross Lyles, penned just months before the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks that claimed her life. The letter, dated March 2001, arrived 24 years later through an unlikely chain of kindness and coincidence, offering Jevon Castrillo a tangible piece of his mother’s love and pride.
As the world marks the 24th anniversary of 9/11 this year, this personal tale serves as a poignant reminder of the enduring human connections forged in the face of unimaginable loss. For Jevon Castrillo, now a father himself, the missive is more than ink on paper—it’s a voice from the past, whispering encouragement into his present. The events of September 11, 2001, reshaped countless lives, but stories like this one highlight how individual acts of remembrance keep the spirit of those lost alive. Cee Cee Lyles was one of the 40 passengers and crew members aboard United Airlines Flight 93, which crashed in a field in Shanksville, Pennsylvania, after heroic efforts by those on board to thwart the hijackers’ plans.
Her final moments, captured in a voicemail she left for her family, have long been a symbol of courage and resilience. Now, this newly surfaced letter adds another layer to her legacy, revealing the devoted mother behind the public hero. In the days leading up to the attacks, Lyles was not just preparing for a routine flight but nurturing her young son’s budding curiosity, as evidenced by her words of praise for his reading milestone. This discovery has stirred emotions across communities, prompting reflections on loss, legacy, and the serendipity of delayed deliveries in an increasingly digital world.
A Mother’s Pride Captured on Paper
The letter itself is a simple, heartfelt note, addressed to Jevon Castrillo’s kindergarten teacher, Tammy Thurman, and brimming with the quiet pride of a parent witnessing their child’s first steps into literacy. “Dear Ms. Thurman,” it begins, “Jevon read a book last night that he brought home from the library. He read it from cover to cover. I told him I would write you a note and tell you what an outstanding job he did.” Lyles continues, “We are very proud of him and will continue to work with him at home. Again, thank you for your dedication and courage for the job that you do.”
Signed simply “Cee Cee Lyles,” the message captures a snapshot of domestic bliss in early 2001, when Jevon was just five years old, eagerly devouring stories under the glow of a bedside lamp. For Jevon Castrillo, who was too young to fully grasp the enormity of his mother’s death at the time, this letter is a revelation. He recalls the day it arrived in his mailbox, an unassuming envelope that held the weight of two decades.
As he unfolded the paper, tears welled up, not just from the words but from the familiar slant of her handwriting—a script he associates with school notes and bedtime reassurances. “It’s like a piece of history right here,” Jevon Castrillo shared in a recent interview, his voice steady but laced with emotion. The praise for his kindergarten achievement feels especially poignant now, as he navigates fatherhood to his own three-month-old child, striving to instill the same love of learning that his mother championed.
Read : Stefany Valentine’s Novel to Her Dead Mother Leads to a Miracle Reunion After 25 Years
Lyles’ note also underscores her role as an active, involved parent amid a demanding career. As a flight attendant for United Airlines, she balanced long hours in the skies with grounding routines at home, from library visits to reinforcing classroom lessons. The letter’s gratitude toward Thurman highlights Lyles’ respect for educators, a value she likely passed on to Jevon Castrillo.
Read : Top 10 most famous photos ever taken
In an era before smartphones and instant messaging dominated family communication, such handwritten correspondences were the norm, carrying an intimacy that emails can never replicate. This one, delayed by the postal system’s quirks, has transformed from a routine thank-you into a cherished artifact, evoking the tenderness of a mother who, even in her final months, focused on her son’s potential rather than her own uncertainties.
The Remarkable Journey of a Delayed Delivery
How did this letter, written in the spring of 2001, evade Jevon’s hands for nearly a quarter-century? The story unfolds like a novel of human goodwill, beginning with its original destination: the classroom of Tammy Thurman at a Fort Pierce elementary school. Thurman, who taught Jevon Castrillo during that formative kindergarten year, received the note shortly after it was sent but kept it tucked away among her mementos, a quiet tribute to a promising student and his devoted mother. Over the years, as Thurman retired and life moved on, the letter remained in her possession, untouched but unforgotten.
The turning point came earlier this year when Thurman, reflecting on her career and the passage of time, decided to reconnect with former students. She reached out to Jevon via social media, sharing memories of his classroom days. During their conversation, she mentioned the letter, prompting Jevon’s curiosity.
With his permission, Thurman mailed it to him, and it arrived in mid-September 2025—just days before the 24th anniversary of 9/11. “I handed it to him Tuesday,” Thurman recounted, describing the moment Jevon opened the envelope and recognized his mother’s script. The serendipity of the timing is striking: a delivery that spanned decades, landing when Jevon needed it most, as he grapples with his own parental responsibilities.
This odyssey through the mail system speaks to the unpredictability of analog communication in a post-9/11 world, where security measures and life changes can reroute even the simplest parcels. Yet, it’s also a testament to the power of personal archives—teachers like Thurman who safeguard snippets of students’ lives, preserving them for future rediscovery. For Jevon, the letter’s arrival feels almost fated, a bridge across the years that softens the edges of grief. He has since framed the note, placing it alongside family photos and mementos from his mother’s life, ensuring her words remain a daily touchstone.
Echoes of Courage and a Legacy of Love
Cee Cee Ross Lyles’ story extends far beyond this letter, embodying the multifaceted heroism of 9/11 victims. Born and raised in Fort Pierce, she served as a detective with the local police department before transitioning to a career as a flight attendant, a role that allowed her to combine her sense of service with a passion for travel. On that fateful morning of September 11, 2001, Lyles was working Flight 93 from Newark to San Francisco when hijackers seized control. In her final minutes, she made a series of calls to family members, reciting the Lord’s Prayer and expressing her love—a composure under fire that has inspired documentaries, memorials, and annual remembrances.
Jevon, who was just six years old when his mother perished, has grown up honoring her memory through quiet acts of perseverance. The letter reinforces what he always knew: that Lyles saw his potential and believed in him fiercely. “Now that I’m a father, I understand even more how much she invested in me,” he reflected, cradling his infant son. The note’s arrival has reignited conversations within his family about Lyles’ life, from her detective days busting local crimes to her warm welcomes aboard flights. Jevon plans to share the letter with his child one day, continuing the cycle of pride and encouragement that Lyles started.
In the broader tapestry of 9/11 narratives, this event underscores how personal stories humanize national tragedies. While grand memorials like the Flight 93 National Memorial in Shanksville draw crowds for reflection, it’s these intimate discoveries that sustain individual healing. As Jevon moves forward, the letter serves as both anchor and compass, a reminder that love, once expressed, defies time. In a world still reckoning with the scars of that day, Cee Cee Lyles’ words to her son offer a universal message: progress, one book at a time, one proud parent at a time.