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Been a few years since I posted this-

Sent: Friday, November 18, 2011 2:42 AM
Subject: 2:42am


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Can't sleep tonight. It's been 12 years and seems like only yesterday, but also seems like a lifetime ago. A lifetime the twelve that slipped away didn't get to experience, and an experience many have let slip away. I remember my first cut, my grodes, bonfire buddies, my blisters, my silver Puryear pot (esl), guys banging on our door really early in the morning, stale donuts, ax handles, sweat, blood, dust, virgin strips, cutting cards, center-pole, fish-wrap, the go-home rope, scarecrowing, unloading, push, 3rd stack swings at 4am, butting logs, wiring, campfires, perimeter poles, brown pots, yellow pots, gray pots, and red pots.

I remember a friend almost getting hit with an ax. I remember guarding a perimeter pole for our dorm the night before raising center pole. 5 to 7 guys from Moses and 4-5 guys from Crocker saw the two of us Poohahs as easy targets to "steal" our perimeter pole location. My buddy locked us to our perimeter pole with a huge metal chain. It didn't take long for the other dorms to spend the rest of the night fighting with each other for a spot, as they soon realized we were on a different level, and the two of us had them "outnumbered" in redass-ness. For those of you that remember Puryear, there is a fine line betwen redass and dumbass. Like I tell a CT buddy of mine at work, while the corps was busy doing pushups and talking about bonfire, we were busy building it. Haha.

I remember killing trees and huge dorm logs. I remember my strong roommate admitting the trees were heavy when we had to load them out, but usually he just slept in and skipped cut cause he was "planning to go next week." I remember Walton loading, and a friends excitement about cut after he moved to Puryear. I only knew a few things about McInnis, but one of them was a resident died in 1981 when he fell from a tractor. I always noticed the commemorative plaque when I visited McInnis, and wondered how students dealt with the shock of losing someone while building bonfire. As dorm chaplain, I went to a hospital to visit the Schumacher student in '89 that lost 2 fingers when a log crushed his hand while loading. His biggest worry at the time was having a hand that looked like a hook'em sign, but his doctor assured him he would still be able to throw up a gig'em.

And I was at fish-wrap in '87 when center pole slipped off the support logs, and pinned a cadet underneath. We rushed to the pole, 1-2 halfway up, damn center pole was heavy, but the adrenaline made it easy to lift. Only a broken leg for the CT, but this was the first time I knelt and squeezed for something more important than a field goal as we waited an eternity for the ambulance. If it was easy, anyone could build it... I was wearing a borrowed pot that night, but went to Sarges the next day and got my own.

And I remember giving our new YellowPot a ride back to Dallas for Thanksgiving after he had just been given the pot and honor. It seems he was having a little trouble getting comfortable sitting due to a little indoctrination from his new best friend Mr Ax Handle. I remember a ski trip during spring break as I watched our dead yellowpot carry his new junior red pot with him for the entire trip. Our dorm enjoyed many privileges of having a senior redpot later, and I remember the thrill of him leading elephant walk directly to our dorm and stopping for a yell practice.

Current students only know bits and pieces. Congrats to those that keep the fire burning off campus, but it was never about the actual fire. Sure, the "burning desire" to BTHOtu and build the hell out of bonfire sound like it is about the flames and fire, but it was, and is, so much more. I have read elsewhere that we didn't as much build bonfire, as bonfire built us.

Nov 18, 1999 could have just been another day. Instead, it changed everything for so many people. I remember getting the call early that morning. I was in shock, and didn't know if I should drive to A&M to help, go to work, stay at home with my wife and our new baby girl, watch the TV, or just pray. The days that followed were like no other for our school, our classmates, our friends, and our families. The rings at the flag pole, the candlelight vigil, taps, yell practice, amazing grace, the game, the piles of logs, the suffering, the love, the sorrow, the hope, the agony, the courage...

Loved ones were lost, and traditions like Silver Taps and Muster were reminders in the months to follow that we can never forget. My brother-in-law and I went to the Bonfire Memorial dedication years later and it opened wounds that were not healed. But will they ever? I hope not. They are not wounds and scars to be forgotten. They are to be shared and remembered. It is too easy to let the outcome of a football game, or conference affiliation, or something truly unimportant dictate your happiness, or our schools' "success." We are the Aggies, the Aggies are we, true to each other, as Aggies can be... Sorry for the rambling, this time certainly shouldn't be mine. My phone rings at 2:42am 11/18 every year. I set it to do that so I never forget, but here I am still awake, already remembering....

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An addition to my previous post:
My son, Class of '03, was working on the Bonfire the evening of November 17 and was relieved from duty around 1700Hr. He called the next morning about 0500Hr. to tell my wife and I about the tragedy and that he was OK. We have a special place in our hearts for the 12 who did not survive the terrible accident.