2:42am tommorrow marks ten years since the Bonfire collapse that claimed 12 lives. Every time this year I remember the events, and since I have returned to A&M for school I find myself telling the story. It's amazing how vivid it is ten years later. So I decided to write it out so that as time fades my memories will still be here.
I actually was supposed to be camping out that night for football tickets. It was our senior year and our last UT game before graduation, so my boyfriend Jason decided we should camp out in line to get the best tickets. I stayed with him for awhile, but then decided that I needed rest so I could be energized for my day at a local elementary school. So I left late that night and went to sleep. The next morning I woke up and was getting ready when my mom called to see if I was okay. I had no idea what she was talking about, so I turned on the tv and saw the new coverage of the collapse. It was a shock that became a panic as I realized what had happened. My friends weren't awake when I had to leave, so I didn't know if anyone was hurt. I knew that my closest friends didn't participate in stack, but I knew many other people that did, and it was hard not having answers. But at this point I'm not sure I realized how bad things were. As I walked to my car that morning I noticed two things. The first was that everyone was silent as they walked around campus. No one was talking, laughing, smiling- everyone was still so shocked. The second thing I noticed was the sound of the news helicopters flying overhead. I don't know how many there were, but the thought that crossed my mind that morning was that it felt like a warzone- no sound but those helicopters. I drove to Bowen Elementary for a class, and as we all came in and shared what we had heard the magnitude of the accident became more apparent. I don't remember if we even had class or not, but afterward those of us assigned to Johnson Elementary went to our classes. We stayed there because it was our duty, but the teachers all understood the condition we were in. They kept their tvs on so we could watch, and a tv in a centralized meetiing room was on. We tried to focus on the kids, but we couldn't. I remember at lunch finally getting in touch with Jason- I woke him up, and he didn't seem to excited about it, but he assured me that as far as he knew our friends were fine. It was a small relief amidst the tragedy. A classmate of mine had been at stack that night. She had been home for about 30 minutes when the collapse happened. The hardest thing about being at school was watching her, a girl who knew everyone who was working that night. As the names of every victim were released, she became more and more distressed- she was friends with them all. Eventually she left because it was clear that school wasn't where she needed to be. Somehow, probably from the new coverage, word spread that there would be a prayer vigil on campus later in the day. I don't pray, but I needed to be back on campus. So most of us went after school. The worst thing I saw that day, and one of the worst I have ever seen, was the pile of logs that afternoon. I drove by it- it wasn't my normal path, I'm sure- and the collapsed stack just looked terrifying. I can't remember which I saw first; I think it was the hearse that was parked next to the stack. It was just waiting there, waiting for another victim to be found. And there were still victims. I knew this because of the other things I saw- large white sheets covering parts of the collapse. Those sheets, I understood, were covering the bodies of students that they could not yet free from the stack. There were two or three at that point. I made it to the area around Rudder Fountain, where I remember seeing other friends also needed prayer and comfort. But there wasn't much talking or waving. We just stood there, and took everything in, and felt the loss. After the vigil ended, I was finally able to go home. My final memory of that night was arriving at my dorm, looking into the glass entry doors, and seeing my two best friends sitting there. They didn't really know when I would be home, but they knew I would need comfort, as did everyone. I remember going through the doors and just collapsing in their arms.
I remember the days after as well. We were supposed to have Elephant Walk later that week, but it was postponed until a day that I was at my school and couldn't be gone. I needed that tradition, and am still sad I missed it. But in honesty, after that return home I don't remember much until THanksgiving, the night Bonfire would have burned, but instead we held a candlelight vigil around the site where it should have been. The next day was that football game, the one that we camped out for. We had amazing seats in the new section of Kyle Field, right in the middle of The Zone. I remember the flyover, the constant reminders of how we had dealt with tragedy and were trying to move on, and the feeling that there was no rivalry that day, just family. That's really what those times after the collapse were about for all of us- being together, supporting each other, caring for each other. We realized how fragile it all is- while none of my close friends were involved, I had friends that were on other shifts that night and could have been under that stack. Bonfire had always been a bonding experience for us, not just my friends but all Aggies. It was a time to celebrate our school and each other. While Bonfire '99 is my worst memory of my college experience, Bonfires '96, '97, and '98 are among the best. It was more than just a fire, so much more.
I carry this event with me still. There is something that hits me every year in November, a somber remembrance that I can't shake off. I always end up reading an article, or looking at pictures, or something to bring it back. It's something I have to do, and may always have to do. The events surrounding that day will always be a part of me.
