THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 14 | SERVING TEXAS A&M SINCE 1893 | © 2019 STUDENT MEDIA
20
years later
The Bonfire Memorial is dedicated to those who died in the 1999 Aggie Bonfire Collapse. It stands on the ground where the Bonfire Stack was constructed that year. Robert Castro — THE BATTALION
Hallowed ground The Bonfire tradition, the 1999 collapse and what it means to those involved two decades later By Sanna Bhai and Brady Stone @BhaiSanna & @bradystonex
T
exas A&M changed forever on Nov. 18, 1999, at 2:42 a.m., when the 59-foottall Bonfire Stack collapsed. Twelve Aggies died and 27 were injured. Today, on that same ground, there stands a memorial honoring those who lost their lives upholding a storied A&M tradition.
The history With the rivalry game against the University of Texas approaching, students in 1907 laid the groundwork for a new tradition that would come to be known as Aggie Bonfire. Bored with exam preparations and anxiety, the students set a 12-foot-high pile of trash on fire in anticipation of the matchup with the Longhorns, according to a 1979 Battalion article. In 1909, students came together to hold an official on-campus Bonfire the night before the UT game, said Dion McInnis, Class of 2003 and current advisor to the upper leadership of Student Bonfire. The student body, then made up of only men in the Corps of Cadets, worked together to construct the Bonfire. It was built annually on the Simpson Drill Field across
from the Memorial Student Center until 1955 when it was moved to Duncan Field near the Corps dorms. In 1992, Bonfire moved to the Polo Fields, where the Bonfire Memorial stands today. The Corps became voluntary in 1965, which led to the participation of non-reg students in the building of Bonfire and the creation of roles for each class year.
“
Bonfire was peak Aggie-ness. It was essential and fundamental and beautiful.”
Dion McInnis, Student Bonfire advisor
According to a 1968 Battalion article, the Bonfire was considered to belong to the freshman class that built it, as they furnished most of the manpower,
and the upperclassmen oversaw cutting, trucking and stacking. “Bonfire was peak Aggie-ness,” McInnis said. “It was essential and fundamental and beautiful. The motivation and the passion of Aggie students outgrew the structure, so the structure grew bigger and bigger and bigger.” In 1963, women were admitted into the university on a limited basis and began helping Bonfire preparations. According to a 1980 Battalion article, the actual date that women began to help is unknown, but in the mid-1960s, women provided refreshments for students taking part in the cut and stack. In 1979, women were officially allowed to help build the bonfire. However, some preferred to continue in their previous role, said Ann Goodman, who previously served as Women’s Bonfire Committee Advisor. “I worked with the women who helped support the red pots, and the efforts to keep people hydrated and fed during cut and stack,” Goodman said. “The ‘cookie crew’ was a number of women and students that would help out by sponsoring those participating in the cut by making cookies and decorating pots. It was very much a community-building activity.” Safety and security were a top priority for those involved in Bonfire, including the faculty and staff,
There’s a Spirit Can Ne’er be Told In times of tragedy, the Aggie Spirit only grows stronger. On the 20th anniversary of the Bonfire collapse, we celebrate the lives of the fallen, pay tribute to their memories and answer “Here” in their absence. May we never forget that the Spirit that binds us is what makes us Aggies.
HISTORY ON PG. 2
BONFIRE
2
The Battalion | 11.14.19
HISTORY CONTINUED Goodman said. For years, the Bonfire stack was heavily guarded to avoid early ignition. It was commonplace for students walking around campus at odd hours to be asked to present their student ID. Students taking part in Bonfire were required to take mandatory safety classes to learn ax holding techniques and other skills needed to make the first cut, Goodman said. First-time cutters had to wrap pieces of white medical tape around their thighs, known as ‘virgin stripes,’ to indicate that they were inexperienced. “Despite the fact that we were probably not as thorough as we obviously needed to be in regards to safety, there were safety classes,” Goodman said. “There was an organized and regimented way of training people on how to use their equipment.”
BONFIRE DICTIONARY Cut The first stage of Bonfire, where the logs are cut down.
Stack The second stage of Bonfire, where the logs are wired into their final shape.
Burn The final phase of Bonfire, when the stack is lit.
Pots Head gear all Bonfire participants are required to wear for safety. Each residence hall or Corps outfit decorates their pots differently.
Redpot The official leaders of Bonfire, made up of nine seniors and nine juniors who oversee everything from the design of the stack to the safety of the participants.
Virgin stripe A white piece of tape around the leg used to show who is out at Bonfire for the first time.
t.u. frat house An outhouse placed on the very top of Bonfire, painted burnt orange.
Push Battalion file photos by JP Beato
Top: During the recovery effort, crews had to take the fallen stack apart piece by piece. Bottom: Members of the 1999 Aggie football team lent their strength to the recovery effort.
WE REMEMBER. 11.18.1999
The final part of stack, when students work shifts around the clock to finish Bonfire. However, there were student and faculty groups opposed to the construction of Bonfire citing harmful effects of the chemicals used to ignite the structure and the needless cutting of lumber as issues. There was also fear that the fire would spread to nearby locations. This issue was taken to the Student Senate in 1970, but resulted in a victory for the beloved tradition, according to a 1979 Battalion article. With Bonfire being a university-wide celebration, it was designated as a school holiday up until 1973. The administration allowed students to prepare to build the massive structure in time for the Thanksgiving game against UT. However, administrators began to realize that students used this time off to either catch up on sleep or take an extended weekend vacation instead of devoting time to Bonfire. Soon after, the university retracted the holiday. The Bonfire tradition signified not only the intense desire for Aggies to beat UT but the chance to bond with their fellow Aggies. It was this comradery that the students looked forward to. Each year, the band sophomores crowned the completed Bonfire with a 7-foot-tall outhouse called the “t.u. tearoom” or “t.u. frat house” and adorned it with an Austin highway sign, hoping to “watch t.u. burn” in the upcoming Thanksgiving match. The first cut began in October, and most of November was spent stacking. In 1946, the first center pole was created to allow the stack to increase in height and stability. John Comstock, a survivor of the 1999 collapse, said the cutting of the wood was hard labor and not everyone’s cup of tea. But the committed team members created a close bond and enjoyed the camradery. “Any student could go out there and work on it,” Comstock said. “It just wasn’t for everybody. We used to say back then that 5,000 people build it and 70,000 watch it burn.”
The Collapse Nov. 18, 1999, began like every other day for the roughly 58 people building the fourth tier of the Bonfire stack. Students from FHK, Moses and Aston Halls, Corps outfits D-2, K-2, C-2 and Squadrons 16 and 17 began their shifts at 12 a.m. Among those starting their Bonfire shifts was Comstock, who was a freshman at the time. “It was like any other Stack that we had gone out to before,” Comstock said. “There was some music playing in the background, and it was a little chilly out.” Almost 3 hours later, the 90-year-old campus tradition turned to tragedy at 2:42 a.m. when the 59-foot stack of logs collapsed, killing 12 and leaving 27 injured. JP Beato, class of 2003 and then-photographer for The Battalion, said that after working a volleyball game that night, he went out with friends. When returning to his car in the parking garage, he heard a loud crack in the distance and knew something
big had happened. With his camera equipment in hand, Beato rushed to the site, capturing photos of the tragedy minutes after. “We heard it,” Beato said. “We heard it fall. We heard that crack. And that was the only thing going on at that time, 24-hour push. So we heard it and we immediately knew it was that.” The first 9-1-1 call came in at 2:43 a.m., the same time Goodman received a message to her pager that the Bonfire Stack had collapsed. “As a member of the critical incident response team, we responded to a number of smaller incidents before that involved minor accidents,” Goodman said. “After the collapse, my role then was to help with the triaging of who had been involved in the collapse, and finding out all of the students who were there and who were missing.” People at the site reported hearing a loud pop seconds before the collapse, and Comstock said those working on the stack felt the logs shift as it fell in a southeasterly direction toward New Main Drive. “It swayed enough to throw me off balance, and by the time I regained my balance, [the stack] was already starting to tip and go at that point,” Comstock said. “I just had to grab onto the logs in front of me. It pretty much fell at the speed anything will fall over at. I was maybe knocked out for a few seconds when I hit the ground, but when I opened my eyes, I got a face full of dirt and realized I was trapped.” Comstock would lie trapped within the 5,000-log stack for seven hours with his legs, arms and head wedged between the fallen timber. “A log had turned sideways and was at my waist, and I couldn’t feel my legs, so I couldn’t tell if was paralyzed,” Comstock said. “My right arm was completely wedged in between two logs because that’s where I grabbed to hang on to it. There was a log on my head as well so I couldn’t really talk to anybody in the beginning.” While waiting to be rescued from the stack, Comstock said he remembers talking to one of the first responders, College Station firefighter Darrin Allen. “I was one of the first ones to find [Comstock] and I laid on the ground with him most of the morning while he was trapped,” Allen said. “He gave me his mother’s telephone number, so that I could call and let her know he was stuck in the collapse and that he was alive.
“
It was all essentially like a game of pick-up sticks.” Ann Goodman, former A&M administrator
During the rescue effort, it was determined that the only safe way to get Comstock and others out was to remove the logs by hand, one at a time, so as not to trigger further collapses that could harm rescue crews and those still trapped insite. Many students, including members of the Texas A&M football team and the Corps of Cadets, helped disassemble the fallen stack. “It was important that these logs be removed by people versus machines because they could gently lift these things off,” Goodman said. “It was all essentially like a game of pick-up sticks. They would pick up one and it would move many others, and early on nobody was sure if the people beneath the logs were alive.” The body of the last known fatality was removed from the stack at 12:55 a.m. on Nov. 19. Eleven of the people killed in the collapse were students and one was a graduate of the university. Five of the students were freshmen, five were sophomores and one of the deceased was a senior. Two of them were females and ten were males. Almost 24 hours after the collapse, the emergency operations center was deactivated at 2:20 a.m. after all victims were recovered and every log was moved. According to a report from the U.S. Fire Administration, approximately 3,200 people from at least 50 different agencies were involved in the recovery. Twenty years later, Aggies remember:
Miranda Denise Adams Christopher D. Breen Michael Stephen Ebanks Jeremy Richard Frampton Jamie Lynn Hand Christopher Lee Heard Timothy Doran Kerlee Jr. Lucas John Kimmel Bryan A. McClain Chad A. Powell Jerry Don Self Nathan Scott West
PROVIDING SUPPORT FOR
BONFIRE REMEMBRANCE
SUPPORTING PROGRAMS | PROVIDING RESOURCES | CULTIVATING EXPERIENCES
BONFIRE
4
The Battalion | 11.14.19
Keeping the memory alive Bonfire remembrance issues over the years
2000 2001
2002
2003 2004
2005
2006
2008
2010
2009
2014
2011
2012
2013 2015
2017
2016 2018
BONFIRE
5
The Battalion | 11.14.19
Published Nov. 18, 1999 by the staff of The Battalion
Published Nov. 19, 1999
SOFTLY CALL EDITORIAL
Battalion file photo by JP Beato
Timothy Kerlee Jr., a member of Squadron 16 in the Corps of Cadets, had been working on the stack when it collapsed. He was hospitalized in critical condition and later died after being removed from life support.
Stack falls killing at least 4, students still trapped 1999 Battalion staff At least four students were killed early today when the Bonfire stack collapsed into a dangerous heap of heavy wire and logs. About 2:20 a.m., a crane lifting a log hit the stack too hard, apparently cracking the centerpole at the base, witnesses said. The stack fell suddenly, trapping workers on and near the stack. “I heard a snap, centerpole cracked and all of a stack came down faster than anyone could move,” said Aileen Dryden, a sophomore general studies major who was working at the workers’ refreshment stand. The next thing I knew, people were going crazy, and there were bodies on the ground.” Police confirmed that four students were dead and at least four were trapped under the fallen logs. A College Station Medical Center spokesperson said 12 students were hospitalized, three of which were in
critical condition. Officials reported that Corps of Cadets Company K-2 was working on the collapsed side of Bonfire. Other Corps units and residence halls on the stack site were the FHK Complex, Moses Hall, Aston Hall, Company D-2, Company C-2, Company K-2, Squadron 16 and Squadron 17. Bonfire officials said at least 24 workers were on the stack when it collapsed. Hillary Jones, a University Police Department (UPD) security officer, said the UPD critical-incident response team, urban search-and-rescue teams and community fire departments and emergency medical-response teams responded to the collapse. She said an off-duty officer witnessed the collapse. Michael Guerra, hall council president for the FHK Complex, was escorting a worker from the site to her
residence hall when the stack fell. “I was in complete disbelief,” Guerra said. “I had just seen it standing; then it was down. It’s something that should never have happened. It’s something that you never expect.” Guerra said more than 30 people from the FHK Complex were at the site, and at least two were unaccounted for more than 3 hours after the fall. About 4 a.m., redpots called for assistance to transport logs and rescue trapped workers. Guerra said precautions taken by Bonfire organizations had saved lives. “By the time I was able to get back to the site, the rescue efforts were being coordinated,” Guerra said. “One good thing about Bonfire is there is a line of command that went into action tonight. The situation was handled as best as it could be under the circumstances.” No one officially commented on the plans for this years’ and future Bonfires.
The feeling was not unlike waking up to news that the sun had failed to rise. A mid-November morning without the stack was only slightly less surreal than a dawn without daybreak. Unfortunately, the tragic facts - at least 11 dead, dozens injured - are only too real, and the weight of sadness on campus is almost tangible. Such a heavy burden cannot be lifted by mere words, and little can be said about this 90-year old tradition that will be remembered in another 90 years. But to say nothing would do disservice to the memories of our friends. To those who knew them, we know you are hurting, but we can never know how much. The families and friends of all those affected deserve and have our sober thoughts and prayers. To those who did not know them, we know you are hurting too. Long after we know how it happened, we will still be wondering why. In the meantime, it is important to remember that this is a time for condolences, not quarrels. Much will be said in the coming weeks that would be better left unsaid. For this is not the time to point fingers of blame or speculate about the future of Bonfire. What is appropriate instead is silence. It would be wrong to turn this tragedy into an opportunity for loud debate. The lives lost are
worth much more than angry arguments, and respectful reflection should not give place to wrangling over traditions. If there is a lesson to be learned from this horrible accident, it will strike at the very heart of who we are as human beings. It will remind us of the inevitable fragility of life and the enduring stability of friendship. And it will teach us more than we ever knew about the indomitable strength of the Aggie spirit. What remains, then, is not to despair, but instead to discover our true worth - to do better with the lives we have been given in honor of the lives that have been taken. There is nothing else to do. Already, the A&M community has exemplified the truism that the worst of times bring out the best in people. Concerned students, staff and community residents have generously provided resources of hope and shoulders of help. But Aggies expect no less, and we know we will recover from this blow with the dignity and determination that make this University great. Flags flying at half-mast are not indicative of half-hearted Aggies. Our hearts are full and hopeful. It will take time to come to terms with what seems so surreal. But in the end, we will have learned that in life, the real stuff is the rough stuff. And the rough stuff makes us stronger.
1999 EDITORIAL BOARD Sallie Turner - Editor in Chief Marium Mohiuddin - Managing Editor Caleb McDaniel - Opinion Editor Beverly Mireles - Opinion Editor Emily R. Snooks - Campus Editor Carrie Bennett - Community Editor
Published Nov. 29, 1999
Aggies come from behind to upset Texas, 20-16 Jason Lincoln, 1999 Battalion sportswriter The 106th meeting between Texas and Texas A&M was a battle to the end, with the emotionally-charged Aggies coming out on top, 20-16. For once, though, the final score did not matter. We all learned what mattered eight days prior to the contest, when 12 Aggies lost their lives in the Bonfire collapse. We learned that football really is just a game, that there are so many things in life more important than who beats who, and by what score. We learned that touchdowns and sacks are soon forgotten, but lives never are. We learned that the Aggie spirit is alive and well. We taught the world what it means to be an Aggie. We may have been on the inside looking out, but we explained it. “[The Bonfire collapse] brought this team back into perspective,” A&M punter Shane Lechler said. “Which is that this place is the most special school in the country because of the tremendous support of the fans and how strong a family Aggies are.”
Sometimes we all need a little reminding that it really is just a game. Losing 12 Aggies, 12 friends, 12 people just like you and me will tend to do that. It all seems so trivial now-- the rankings, the stats, the endless analysis. The sad thing is that it took an unthinkable tragedy to remind us of what is important. The A&M-UT rivalry probably will return to normal next year but there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s OK to dislike another school, to want more than anything to defeat it. As long as you know that beneath all the trash talking and taunting, there is a mutual respect. And that is the way it should be with sports. Be loud, be crazy, be obnoxious. Just remember that when all is said and done, it really is just a game. The truth is, as emotional as Friday’s game was, the outcome was not important. Anyone who thought the A&M football team needed a win to honor the 12 Aggies who died is missing the point. This school already has honored the
dead and will continue to do so. We have done it with our thoughts, our prayers, even our Aggie rings. We can continue to do it by never forgetting them and by reminding ourselves how precious life is. “Today, the emotion was riding high,” A&M running back Ja’Mar Toombs said after the game. “Even when we were down in points, e kept our spirits up. We had to win this game to show we care.” It’s touching that the football team felt that way, but like most Aggies, the players already have shown they care. They did not need to win to honor the 12 Aggies who died building Bonfire. Make no mistake about it, though-Friday’s win was for them. They were with us on Saturday. They were in our hearts and minds, and that may be the greatest honor we can give them. The announced crowd of 86,128 at Saturday’s game was the largest ever to witness a football game in the state of Texas. The funny thing is, A&M officials got the number wrong. They were 12 people short.
Battalion file photo by JP Beato
Running back Ja’Mar Toombs played in the 1999 rivalry game against UT, eight days after the Bonfire Stack collapsed.
BONFIRE
The Battalion | 11.14.19
We remember them Miranda Denise Adams ’02 Miranda Denise Adams, was a biomedical sciences sophomore from Santa Fe, Texas. Miranda is remembered for her joyous attitude and passion for the Aggie family. She graduated from Santa Fe High School with honors in 1998 and was the Mosher Hall Bonfire Co-Chair in 1999. It was there that Miranda found her niche at Texas A&M. While at Fish Camp, Miranda listed her top priorities as God, family, friends and her education. Shortly after her passing, Miranda’s family found an email she wrote that read, “God’s hand is always there. Once you grasp it, you’ll never want to let it go.” As a leader in her dorm Miranda was dubbed the “Queen of Bonfire.” Every year, her family makes a trip to College Station for the Bonfire remembrance ceremony.
Timothy Doran Kerlee Jr. ’03 Timothy Doran Kerlee Jr. was a mechanical engineering sophomore from Barlett, Tennessee. Timothy was a bright student with a passion for Texas A&M. He was a member of the Corps of Cadets, a teacher to anyone who needed help and a friend to each person he met. Timothy left a legacy bigger than himself. His selfless nature attests to how wise, kind and compassionate he was. Beneath the fallen logs, Timothy lay pinned, but rather than letting rescue workers free him, he used his vantage point to direct first responders to five students he could see, shouting out, “Help my buddies first.” Timothy was taken to the hospital and lived long enough to see his family and friends before he passed away, with a pair of boots and a saber by his hospital bed.
Christopher David Breen ’96 Christopher David Breen, Class of 1997, graduated with a degree in agriculture development. Although he was from Austin and grew up with a family of longhorns, he was a dedicated Aggie. His dedication to his school activities and university are considered to be the reasons he came back two years later to participate in the construction of Bonfire. Two years before the collapse, Christopher was the senior coordinator for the construction process group known as the brown pots. During his time at A&M, Christopher was a member of the Corps of Cadets and attended St. Mary’s Catholic Church, dedicating himself to his passion for the Catholic faith and to his fellow students in the Corps. Outside of university, Christopher enjoyed the outdoors, having spent many summers as a canoe guide for the Boy Scouts in Minnesota.
Michael Stephen Ebanks ’03 Michael Stephen Ebanks will always be remembered for his bravery, kindness and ability to embrace life. Michael, son of Gerald and Bulinda Ebanks of Carrollton, was a part of the 1996 EAA Air Academy class in Oshkosh, Wisconsin, at the age of 16. As one Air Academy classmate said, “Once you know him, you could never forget him.” Michael came to Texas A&M to study aerospace engineering and participate in A&M’s traditions, including the Aggie Bonfire. He spent his last moments trying to rescue his fellow workers. Some family members said that “Michael loved the human mind … But he loved the human heart most; goodness knows he made his way into about a jillion of them. And he loved life beyond belief, as well as all that went with it.”
Jeremy Richard Frampton ’99 “…There is one thing I’ve learned. Sometimes the plainest things mean the most,” Jeremy wrote in a note to his mother. Jeremy Richard Frampton, a California native, is remembered for his compassionate and thoughtful nature, gentle spirit and willingness to help others. His close friend John Templer, Class of 1999, said Jeremy was “a phenomenal guy in all facets.” While at Texas A&M, Jeremy studied psychology and spent his time in Company D-1 of the Corps of Cadets. As an upperclassman in the Corps, Jeremy devoted a large amount of his time to coordinating and constructing Bonfire, even when it was not required of him, Templer said. “He loved Bonfire like no other, and any death is an untimely death, but you know, if he had to pass on in one shape or form, he truly died doing what he loved,” Templer said.
Lucas John Kimmel ’03 Lucas John Kimmel was a biomedical sciences freshman from Corpus Christi and a member of Company D-2 in the Corps of Cadets. An ardent follower of the Catholic faith, Lucas is remembered for his devotion to family and his positive outlook on life. Throughout his life, he made every second count, never looking back. Lucas had dreams of traveling and partaking in adventures on every corner of the world, but what he enjoyed most of all was camping with his family. Lucas always made time to visit his family and spend time with those he loved, including his dog, Maverick. His love for animals grew day by day as he spent time with Maverick, resulting in his decision to enroll at Texas A&M in 1999 with hopes of becoming a veterinarian. Lucas’ love for adventure and nature sparked his interest in the Bonfire tradition that carried on throughout his time in Aggieland
Bryan Allan McClain ’02 Bryan Allan McClain, an agriculture freshman, will be remembered by family and friends as a passionate and loyal friend who lived fearlessly. Bryan knew there was one school and one school only that he wanted to attend — Texas A&M. Bryan decided he wanted to join the Corps of Cadets after he participated in the “Spend the night with the Corps” program during his senior year of high school. He fiercely believed in the idea that the cadets were the “Keepers of The Spirit” and lived his life with that mentality. Bryan was from San Antonio, and his neighbors described him as “the kind of kid you’d like your little brother, son or nephew to grow into.” On Bryan’s portal at the Bonfire Memorial, the inscription reads, “It was said by many, that Bryan had put more into his 19 years of life than a person 80 years old.”
Chad Anthony Powell ’03 Chad Anthony Powell was known for his embodiment of selfless service, intelligence and kindness. Once, Chad and his father decided to go on a Boy Scout trip together. The two had planned to spend time with one another, but Chad volunteered to help younger scouts during a variety of service projects. Even though he missed out on time with his father, Chad said they took the trip to be in service to others. The computer engineering sophomore from Keller was not only kind but extremely bright. He graduated as valedictorian of his graduating class at Keller High School. He will be remembered as an Aggie who embodied the core values and was enjoyed by all who knew him.
Jamie Lynn Hand ’03 Jamie Lynn Hand was an environmental design freshman from Henderson. As she wrote in her application to be a Fish Camp counselor, the best way to get an idea of who she was is to know what she liked to do — playing softball, putting on plays with her sisters and using her artistic talent to draw, paint and decorate. Her writing displays her earnest and joyful. “If you were to ask other people about me I will bet you they would say I’m easy to get along with, fun, and a bit like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde the way I can be quiet and shy at one moment and loud and crazy the next,” Jamie wrote in her application. Jamie took pride in her involvement with the tradition of Bonfire and strongly believed in its ability to bring Aggies together in a single shared purpose and spirit.
Christopher Lee Heard ’03 Christopher Lee Heard was an engineering freshman from Houston. He was a determined and focused young man who had a larger-than-life personality. Throughout high school and his first semester at Texas A&M, he participated in various activities, from swimming to sharpshooting to being a cadet. Growing up in Texas, Christopher enjoyed two-stepping and singing along to country music. Christopher had an immense desire to help others, and he inspired his peers to trust him and follow his lead. He used his warm personality, keen sense of humor and spirit to make a special place in the hearts of many, including his brothers and parents. The day before the collapse of the Bonfire Stack, Christopher registered to join the Marines after graduation, which was one of his life-long dreams. Even as the Bonfire began to collapse, Christopher warned those below him, concerned about their well-being before his own.
Compiled by the 2017 Battalion staff
Jerry Don Self ’01 “If others could only give like he gave, love like he loved, and live like he lived, what a wonderful place this would be,” the inscription on his memorial portal reads. Jerry Don Self was an engineering technology junior from Arlington and a member of Squadron 17 of the Corps of Cadets. Jerry was a devout Christian who had a love for serving God. He was a camp counselor, as he loved working with kids, and he had hopes of becoming a youth minister. A football player in high school, Jerry received a scholarship offer to play football for Texas Tech, but he turned it down to join the Corps. His most notable features were his contagious smile and his caring, selfless heart. “His loyalty and compassion was obvious through the steadfast friendships he offered to many,” his portal reads. “He took the initiative to look past people’s faults and see their hearts, and cared for the hearts he saw.”
Nathan Scott West ’02 Eagle Scout, Corps of Cadets Company C-2 member, but most importantly an Aggie, Nathan Scott West was admired and loved by family and friends, who attest to his embodiment of Texas A&M’s core values. Nathan was an ocean engineering sophmore from Bellaire. His family and friends described him as a devoted follower of God who truly knew how to care for others. Nathan’s Boy Scout troop, Troop 211, honors his legacy by leaving a seat empty at the ceremony any time a member of the Troop rises to Eagle Scout status. Nathan’s father described him as an inquisitive young man who somehow always found a way to get lost, but eventually found a home at A&M. Nathan inspired those around him and exemplified the core values through his faith, service and dedication to others.
6
BONFIRE
7
The Battalion | 11.14.19
Never forgotten Meredith Seaver — THE BATTALION
The Bonfire Memorial on the northeast side of campus stands as a permanent reminder of the 20-year-old tragedy and a lasting tribute to the Aggies who passed away.
Aggies reflect on A&M’s ability to come together after tragedy and preserve the memories of the ones who lost their lives By Hollis Mills and Jane Turchi @sillohsllim & @JaneTurchi The morning of Nov. 18, 1999, Jason Hannam arrived at a quiet and solemn campus. Hannam, Class of 2001, soon heard rumours about the collapse of Bonfire, an incident that would ensure the day lived on in the consciousness of Aggies. In the wake of the tragedy, Hannam joined fellow Aggies in searching for friends who were among the list of students wounded and killed by the collapse the night before. Hannam recognized the name of one fellow student, Timothy Kerlee. Hannam was able to visit Kerlee in the hospital before he passed away later that day. “It was very somber,” Hannam said. “It was kind of like the whole campus was mourning, I guess you could say. Everything else is overshadowed by what happened. No one’s thinking about other things.” As the debris was cleared and the victims were recovered, the effects of the collapse remained on campus and in the hearts of Aggies. Twenty years after the incident, Bonfire symbolizes selfless sacrifice for students like recreation, park and tourism sciences sophomore Connor Lloyd. He recalls the first time he attended a Student Bonfire burn — an independent continuation of the tradition held off campus each year. “I definitely felt really, really close with all my buddies,” Lloyd said. “We’d just gotten out of Brass Culmination for the Corps, and so we earned our right to be called cadets. “We went to a Bonfire burn and it was just a big, symbolic way to understand that I’m a
part of this university, I’m part of the Corps of Cadets, I’m with my outfit right here. It’s a coming together moment and I don’t think I’d trade it for anything.” Like many cadets, industrial distribution sophomore Garrett Hilliard first learned about Bonfire at his outfit’s traditions night. After visiting various historical landmarks throughout campus, the night ended with a visit to the Bonfire Memorial. “That was kind of my first exposure to not only just Bonfire but also the fact that my outfit has a very vivid history with Bonfire,” Hilliard said. “Being exposed to that the first time intrigued me greatly, and that kind of inspired me to pursue it further and keep up with my outfit and make sure that my outfit is continually going to Bonfire and honoring that tradition.” Bonfire is particularly important for Hilliard as Kerlee was a member of his outfit, Squadron 16. After the fall of Bonfire, Kerlee would not let rescue workers help him out of the rubble, famously saying “help my buddies first.” Kerlee’s quote lives on within Squadron 16 and is shared with new cadets as they join the outfit. After hearing Keerlee’s story, Hilliard said he found motivation to stay involved in his outfit. “Traditions night for me was a moment where I found real motivation and real purpose in why I’m here and why this outfit was the right choice,” Hilliard said. “I knew I made the right choice whenever we learned about Kerlee just because I can’t find any other outfit that has history like that — a history of sacrifice that Tim’s given us in this outfit.”
A permanent tribute Today, Michael Rey is senior principal and vice president of operations at Overland Partners, an architecture firm based in San Antonio. But at the time of the collapse, Rey was just another Aggie dealing with the tragedy.
He graduated later that semester and began working as a designer with the company, where he and a fellow Aggie were given the opportunity to propose the concept design for the Bonfire Memorial that stands today. “Ultimately, we came up with the first initial boards through that process,” Rey said. “It was really beautiful because it was holistic and everyone was filling out ideas, and only the best ones stuck.” Built on the site of the collapse and dedicated in 2004, the memorial stands where past ruins laid, embodying the spirit of the fallen through three distinct design elements. The high granite wall of the Tradition Plaza is designed to put visitors in the right mindset from the moment they park, Rey said, and the History Walk serves as a timeline, telling the story of Aggie Bonfire throughout the years. The path culminates at the Spirit Ring, which features 12 “portals” with written tributes and engraved portraits of those who lost their lives in the 1999 collapse. “Through these individuals, you’re seeing the Aggie spirit,” Rey said. “You know them by their face, you know them by their name and you know them by their thoughts. Each portal gravitates toward having a unique perspective on that.” The Bonfire Memorial’s Spirit Ring arrangement was created to uplift the Aggie Spirit, both figuratively and literally, Rey said. “The gateways lifting up those circles still make a continuous ring, but we’re lifting them up and we’re actually seeing the underbelly of the ring,” Rey said. “It’s that glow at nighttime that really shines from the spirit of the Aggies.” The Spirit Ring itself was built around the site of the 1999 Bonfire stack. Rey said every aspect of the memorial possess individualized meaning, from engravings on the black basalt stone at the base of each portal to the placement of the portals themselves. “They’re actually oriented toward their
hometown,” Rey said. “If you’re standing at the centerpole looking through their gateways, each gateway is oriented toward where they were coming from before they came here to A&M, to their final resting place. That’s a powerful thing for me, to be able to connect through the inner circle of A&M and see that through the eyes of the individual who has perished.” Rey said it is only when a person steps through a fallen student’s portal that they can understand them — like Michael Ebanks, who Rey met in an advanced mathematics course the semester of the collapse. “It’s not like I knew him deeply, but I knew him enough to know that he was really nice and certainly someone I’d love to get to know more,” Rey said. “Unfortunately, I didn’t get that chance.” Having the opportunity to learn about more than just the names, but about the lives and stories of each of the fallen students, is an honor Rey said he will always carry with him. “It’s hard to put into words actually, a project like that,” Rey said. “I don’t know if I’ll go the rest of my life, or this career, ever being able to do something as significant as the Bonfire memorial.” Political science sophomore Brianna Mason, who was not born until a year after the tragedy, first heard of the collapse when she was a junior in high school. Though a horrific moment in A&M history, Mason said the Bonfire collapse is memorable not just because of the tragedy itself, but because of how the Aggie community banded together in its aftermath. “I wasn’t raised in an Aggie family, so I knew nothing about A&M,” Mason said. “I guess for me, when I think about the Bonfire collapse it shows how much the university could come together after the tragedy. I think it just showed how strong the university was and the strength of the Aggie family. They could overcome any huge impact.”
‘Respect and recognition’ Brison Park memorial honors Aggies who died in collapse By Alyssa Gafford-Gaby @AGaffordGaby
Josh Sozio — THE BATTALION
Twelve lamp posts in College Station’s Brison Park are accompanied by plaques bearing the names of the Aggies lost in the 1999 Bonfire Collapse.
Just south of Texas A&M’s campus stands a different memorial dedicated to the 12 Aggies killed in the Bonfire collapse of 1999, created by the City of College Station in their honor. On Nov. 18, 2000, the city officially opened the memorial to the public, calling it the “Twelve Poles of Light.” Located in Brison Park, 12 antique lamp posts stand along a path, each accompanied by a cast aluminum plaque with the name of one of the 12 who lost their lives in the Bonfire tragedy. College Station City Councilman Dennis Maloney, who was an integral part of establishing the memorial, said a few years before Bonfire fell, he was on the College Station Preservation Committee that was responsible for getting street lamps placed in Brison Park. Coincidentally, 12 light posts were constructed in the park, which is located right across the street from the old Duncan Drill Field where Bonfire was previously held. “It was just strange to me that we
had twelve lights there and it was twelve kids, and it was right across the street from where Bonfire had been held for so many decades,” Maloney said. “It just felt so fitting, like all the pieces fit together. It took no persuading at all, everyone wanted to do something. You don’t want to forget those lives.” Royce Hickman, community liaison for the Bryan-College Station Chamber of Commerce and a member of the committee that planned the opening ceremony of the memorial, said the city knew it had to do something to remember the fallen Aggies and help the community heal in any way it could. “It’s just important for Aggies to remember them and the general public to get a glimpse into their commitment to an Aggie tradition,” Hickman said. “It was a difficult thing for us to come to grips with, and the memorial was an important step in the healing process. It would have been tragic not to keep the lives and the dreams of those 12 people alive.” According to Jay Socol, director of public communications for the City of College Station, most visitors to Brison Park don’t go to the park for the memorial, nor do they know it’s there, but once the first
plaque is spotted, they can’t avoid seeing them. Socol said the memorial is a way to inform visitors of College Station’s history, while honoring those lost to the Bonfire collapse. “The memorials from the city are very understated,” Socol said. “But there is a very clear purpose behind them. The memorial is not the main focus of Brison Park by any means, but it is a discreet level of respect and recognition of what happened. I think that’s what makes it even more attractive — the way it is discreetly blended into the beauty of Brison Park.” Maloney said the College Station Bonfire Memorial in Brison Park will remain standing forever as a way to honor and recognize the 12 fallen Aggies’ undying Aggie Spirit. “At A&M and in College Station, we are so steeped in tradition and in history that nothing is forgotten,” Maloney said. “The park is there as a reminder to visitors that this is who we are and these were people who were important in our community, just as every student is. This is who we are: College Station, Texas, the home of Texas A&M University. None of us will forget that.”