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HomeMy WebLinkAboutBonfire Article HONORING THEIR SPIRIT More coverage on the Bonfire Memorial dedication inside today's Eagle ~.:- a High 74, Low 61 ~, - - ~ - Friday November 19,2004 e e Shower possible Forecast! A 7 Vol. 130, No. 324, 3 sections theeagle.com Bryan-Conege Station, Texas' 50 cents , all of you tired, but proud to be Aggies and united by that fire. That is the Bonfire that I miss.' 'These lives can have meaning if we learn from the way they lived their lives. These 12 gave a lot to all of us.' JERRY EBANKS Father of Bonfire victim Michael Ebanks I J!' I'. '. ..,.jatJ"'.I'.'..... ...........,.... .-. -', .. .>'.: 'HI~---r1, . '" "1', " , '", .' >,- _ , -, f ,'" ,,-', ~ "',, __,.".;,,' '. ",""/:.;_;.:',.::,r.(.,<. .',. ., .1. '" >.., :, ' ..')(' '~'~.'. < '. ',":" '"1 :\, f l. ...... 'i:'\i:, " \ t' CHIP THIEL . Injured in 1999 Bonfire collapse Eagle photo/Dave McDermand A crowd moves toward the Spirit Ring of the Texas A&M Bonfire Memorial on Thursday. 'WE REMEMBER THEM' The solemn epitaph for 12 Aggies who died in the collapse Eagle photo/Butch Ireland A parking lot light pierces the fog early Thursday morning as thousands of mourners gather at the Bonfire Memorial at the time when the stack collapsed five years ago, killing 12 Aggles and Injuring 27. 2:42 a.m.: A spontaneous, moving tribute By JOHN LeBAS Eagle Staff Writer Touching speeches mark dedication of memorial Log 011 to theeagle.com . FOR MORE ON THE BONFIRE MEMORIAL DEDICATION By CRAIG KAPITAN Eagle Staff Writer ASimPle metal marker sits where Centerpole, the spine of Aggie Bonfire, once jutted from the ground 60 or more feet into the sky. Next to the marker, someone has placed a lone white pot - the helmet worn by those who toiled every fall semester to build the mammoth struc- ture. Stretching out in all directions is the new Bon- fire Memorial, built to forever pay tribute to those killed and injured in Texas A&M University's worst disaster. An afternoon dedication ceremony for the symbolism-rich monument will begin in about 12 hours, but an unscripted remembrance of thousands is about to unfold here in the predawn darkness. These mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, friends and strangers cannot forget 2:42 a.m. That's the moment Nov. 18, 1999, when Bonfire came crashing down, and they are gathering here to remember. They don't need a scheduled ceremony or a touching memorial of granite and bronze, to be Business. . . . . . . . . . . . . 88 Classified. . . . . . . . . . . . C1 Comics. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 85 Crossword. . . . . . . . . . . . 85 Dear Prudence. . . . . . . . 86 Garden . . . . . . . . . . . . . A14 Horoscope. . . . . . . . . . . . 86 Lottery . . . . . . . . . . . . . A12 Movies. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 86 Obituaries .......... A12 Opinions. . . . . . . . . . . . A10 Television. . . . . . . . . . . . 87 Five years ago, Chip Thiel lay on the ground at the Polo Fields with a severely mangled leg and punctured lung, surrounded by a pile of collapsed Bonfire logs as the Aggie nation experienced the worst disaster in its history. On Thursday, a tearful Thiel stood before a new memorial as he asked the tens of thousands of people gathered around him - including the families of 12 who didn't make it - to close their eyes and remember the good times. Each year as a night of working on the stack would conclude, he reminded the crowd, students who sweated together would leave as friends for life - "all of you tired, but proud to be Aggies and united by that fire." "That is the Bonfire that I miss," he said, his sniffies blending with those from the crowd. As Thiel solemnly reminisced Thursday, the new $5 million Bonfire Memorial stood behind him on the spot once reserved for the annual blaze. The official unveiling ceremony for the monu- @ 2004 The Biyan.College Station Ea~e Publishing Company I 7 12624 00050 The Eagle online: theeagle.com I aggiesports,com 1_. - t Eagle photo/Butch Ireland Chip Thiel, who was injured in the 1999 collapse, wipes away a tear during his speech. Jerry Ebanks, the father of Bonfire victim Michael Ebanks, looks on. See 2:42, Page A6 See BONFIRE, Page A4, -.. . , Page A4 The Bryan-College Station Eagle Friday, November 19, 2004 LEGACY OF BONFIRE: THEDEDICATI()N Bonfire I From A1 ment - which tells the story behind the decades-old tradi- tion and the 12 Aggies who died - also featured speeches from Texas Gov. Rick Perry, A&M President Robert Gates and Jerry Ebanks, the father of deceased student Michael Ebanks. "Perhaps none of us can understand why these 12 were taken from us," Ebanks said, asking the 50,000 or so in the crowd to bear with him if his emotions got the best of him. "[But] these lives can have meaning if we learn from the way they lived their lives. "These 12 gave a lot to all of us." The past five years have been hard for the families of those who were killed or severely injured, Ebanks said. But they have also been inspirational, he said, as he and other family members watched the Aggie family unite in the wake of the disas- ter. "We've found that there are many, many people who have mourned almost as much as we have," he said. "Being an adopted part of this huge Aggie family has been a source of comfort and sup- port." With the new memorial, he said, students and the com- munity will have a place for meditation, solace and remembering. "Their souls and bodies are not here, but the spirit they all shared is very much here," he said, referring to his son and the 11 other Aggies who died as a result of the collapse. It was a sentiment later echoed by Gates, who described Bonfire and the memorial that now replaces it as a symbol of Aggie spirit and togetherness. The annual Bonfire event has been indefinitely sus- pended in the five years since the collapse. The possibility of restart- ing the tradition won't even be considered until all law- suits concerning the event are settled, Gates has said in the past. But there is hope for the tradition's future, Perry told the crowd, eliciting whoops as he identified himself as a 1972 red pot - a designation reserved for student leaders in charge of building Bonfire. "I look forward to the day Bonfire returns to campus," he said. "It will be much more than a football rivalry. It will be an expression of who we are." In the meantime, he said, the memorial will help give people a glimpse into the soul of Aggieland. With most current A&M students now never having experienced Bonfire, Thiel said Thursday that he wanted to spend his time on stage reflecting on "the contagious spirit of a tradition left behind. " "The chill of the Aggie pride runs down your spine," the 2000 graduate recalled of his initial reaction to Bonfire in years before the collapse. The whole campus would unite for the "arrogantly flamboyant ceremony" as A&M's football team pre- pared for their yearly bout with "the ladies from Austin," he joked as the crowd responded with soft laughter. But as the Bonfire crum- bled in the. early morning hours of Nov. 18, 1999, sud- denly Thiel's life changed, he said. "The life of every Aggie changed," he said. "Texas A&M changed." . Craig Kapitan's e-mail address is ckapitan@theeagle.com. ~ III Eagle photo/Butch Ireland Above: Texas A&M seniors Jason Pothoss and Caitlin Callaham look at the Bonfire Memorial from the west side as the crowd mills about the memorial Thursday afternoon. Left: Cadets stand at attention and salute during the playing of the national anthem at the start of the ceremony. Eagle photo/Dave McDermand A T-shirt worn by an Aggie bears the sentiment of the day. An estimated 50,000 people attended the memorial dedication. Eagle photo Dave McDermand Far left: Audience members wipe away tears and bow their heads in reaction to emotional speeches. Left: A Bonfire pot along with flowers and other Aggie memorabilia adorn the Centerpole marker at the memorial site. Eagle photo/Dave McDermand Eagle photo/Butch Ireland t t Friday, November 19, 2004 The Bryan-College Station Eagle Page AS LEGACY OF BONFIRE: THE DEDICATION By HOLLY IruFFMAN Eagle Staff Writer Listening to descriptions of Bon- fires past, Les Heard closed his eyes and quickly pictured his 19-year-old son perched in a small swing near the top of a massive stack of logs. His first night on the stack, the eager Texas A&M University fresh- man probably would have been yelling down to those below him, call- ing for another log to wire onto the structure, his father envisioned. "It's how we want to imagine his last moments - him enjoyjng what he was doing," Andrea Heard said softly, her eyes glistening with tears as she spoke of her son Chris. The Heards made the trek from their home in Florida to attend the Bonfire Memorial dedication ceremo- ny in College Station on Thursday, the five-year anniversary of when their son died along with 11 other Aggies in the deadliest disaster on campus. Chris was working on Bonfire when the two-mill ion-pound struc- ture slammed to the ground. Sixty or so other students on the stack sur- vived, though 27 were injured. At Thursday's ceremony, clouds filled the sky and the mood seemed, at first, pensive as friends and family of the dead and injured slowly med into a reserved seating area cordoned off from the crowd, which was estimated at 50,000 people. But just as the first few notes of "Ave Maria" were played to kick off the ceremony, the clouds started to separate and a brilliant, warm sun broke through. The quick transfor- mation was hard for many to ignore. "We've got 12 Aggies up there checking on the weather," said Jim Kimmel as he stood near his son's portal after the ceremony. The Cor- pus Christi resident's 19-year-old son, Lucas, was killed in the collapse. "There are 12 of them smiling down on us," Lucas' mother, Walieta Kimmel, added. Friends and family members sat quietly through most of the 90- minute ceremony, but grief appeared etched on most of their faces. A few in the group stood up to take pictures as the Aggie Band played its signature march, "Noble Men of Kyle." One man closed his eyes and raised his head upward as if he were savoring the first few measures of the song and sharing the feeling with someone above. Another in the crowd of families and friends put his head in his hands and sobbed as Chip Thiel, who was seriously injured in the accident, described why he and so many fellow Aggies loved Bonfire. Walieta Kimmel said she knew Thiel spoke from his heart, and she was deeply touched by his words. "I'm sure if Lucas had survived, he would have felt the same way," she Families weather a flood of emotions Eagle photo/Dave McDermand Family members of Bonfire victims are escorted to the memorial for private visits after Thursday's ceremony. The monument later was opened to the gen- eral public. said quietly after watching dozens of friends, family and strangers stop to read the words engraved in the portal devoted to her son. Representing the families to speak at the ceremony was Jerry Ebanks - the father of Michael Ebanks, a 19- year-old freshman killed. The elder Ebanks reminded the crowd that Thursday was not a day for mourn- ing, but a day for celebrating the lives of the 11 students and one former stu- dent. The fallen Aggies were "12 of the fmest adults there ever were" and though their souls and bodies are no longer on earth, their spirit remains, he said. Tim Kerlee, whose 17-year-old son Tim Jr. died in the collapse, said it was hard to express in words the sig- nificance of the day. For a couple of hours after the ceremony, the elder Kerlee stood faithfully by the portal dedicated to his son. "It's brought us all to a point that maybe we can start to get back to nor- mal - if there really is such a thing after you lose a child," said Kerlee, who moved with his wife to College Station from Tennessee following the accident. Kerlee said he believes the memo- rial will keep the tradition of Bonfire and its tragic demise at the forefront of students' minds. And he hopes it will serve as a permanent reminder that every decision has a conse- quence, he said. "Even a tradition can get out of hand, if you let it," Kerlee said. "You've got to use a little common sense in addition to having fun." Individual stems of roses and car- nations were scattered near the edges of all 12 portals. At the memorial for Tim Jr., there also was a small blue teddy bear cradling a couple of white flowers. A white pot, or hard hat, was sitting atop three roses and a carna- tion at the side of the portal for Jere- my Frampton, a 22-year-old senior killed in the collapse. Three tall white candles sat next to Bryan McClain's portal. Nineteen-year-old McClain also was killed in the collapse. Henderson resident Larry Hand said he thinks the fmished memorial is a fitting tribute to the 12 Aggies who died. Hand's daughter Jamie was one of two 19-year-old women killed when the 5,000 or so logs top- pled. Miranda Adams also was killed in the collapse. "You're just drawn here," Hand said, explaining that he and his wife, Neva, feel closer to their daughter at the site where she spent so much time working on a tradition she loved. "We use any excuse we can fmd just to come down here." . Holly Huffman's e-mail address is hhuffman@theeagle.com. - # -.~::J>> Dusty Davis of College Station is comforted by Neva Hand, mother of Bonfire victim Jamie Lynn Hand, at the memorial Thursday. Davis Is a former boyfriend of Jamie's. Eagle photo Butch Ireland 'The Aggie family is evident' Sense of duty, respect draws tens of thousands to Bonfire Memorial dedication By BRETT NAUMAN Eagle Staff Writer Something more than Aggie unity drew Texas A&M Univer- sity graduate Dale Miller to campus Thursday for the dedication of a memorial honoring the 12 killed and 27 injured when Bonfire fell five years ago. Miller's son, Chris, worked on Bonfire the morning of Nov. 18, 1999, but he was not nearby the moment the 59-foot stack oflogs col- lapsed. On Thursday, Miller and his wife drove from Houston to pray for parents who were not so lucky. "I can't explain why we came. We just needed to be here today," he said. "We thought we'd come and count our blessings that Chris was- n't on that stack." The Millers joined thousands who gathered on campus as A&M dedi- cated its $5 million Bonfire Memori- al and observed the five-year anniversary of the deadly collapse. A&M officials estimated the crowd at 50,000. Aggies flocked from across the nation for the ceremony, but a majority of those in attendance were among the uni- versity's 44,500 stu- dents - most of whom never saw Bonfire burn. The students, whose afternoon classes were can- celed, began swarm- ing the Polo Fields shortly before 2 p.m. The Corps of Cadets marched to the site as a group, boots clanking in unison. Within minutes, the Corps was swallowed among the thousands of students who continued pouring into the streets and fields surround- ing the stand just outside the memo- rial, where the ceremony was held. "They just kept coming and com- ing," said A&M graduate Nancy Eagle photo/Dave McDermand A platform filled with media from across the state finds Itself surrounded by Aggles after the perimeter of the memorial is opened Thursday. Todd, who watched the proceedings from a hill in front of the Adminis- tration Building. "From parking lots, from dorms, from everywhere." Todd and her hus- band, Sam, drove from Round Rock to attend the dedica- tion. Their daugh- ter, Emily, worked as a senior on the 1999 Bonfire and was a friend of Jere- my Frampton, one of the 12 Aggies killed in the col- lapse. Josh Armstrong, 26, was a senior in the Corps when Bonfire toppled. His outfit had been scheduled to work on site the night of the acci- dent but was put on guard duty at the last minute, he said. On Thursday, he brought 6-year- old daughter Elizabeth, 2-year-old son John and 5-month-old daughter "They just kept coming and coming. From parking lots, from dorms, from h )) everyw ere. NANCY TODD A&M graduate, all the Ilumber of people who attellded Thursday's cerell/ollY Therese to the ceremony to teach them about the Corps and what it means to be part of the Aggie fami- ly. "They need to see this, how every- body here comes together," Arm- strong said. as the Fightin' Texas Aggie Band marched into position for the dedication. "The spirit you can't really explain. You just have to live it." According to several students, that Aggie spirit convinced them to attend. Hillary Baskin, a senior from College Station, said she felt a duty to attend out of respect for the families of the 12 who were killed. Nearly all the students who were at A&M when Bonfire collapsed have graduated, and the tradition has been on hiatus since then. Still, Baskin said she never doubted cur- rent students would gather in force to remember one of the most painful moments in the university's histo- ry. "The Aggie family is evident," said Baskin, surrounded by stu- dents at the ceremony. "Just like how everyone came together after Bonfire fell, I knew the Aggie family would come together again." Most of the crowd left after Thurs- day's hour-long dedication, but many took their first walk througll the Bonfire Memorial, which pays tribute to the tradition and those who died five years ago. Don Roper, a Houston resident who graduated from A&M in 1973, said he helped build the structure for five consecutive years. "I didn't know their names or their faces," Roper said of the 12 who died. "That they were out here working on Bonfire at 2 a.m. tells me they were the motivators and the leaders." The words written about the vic- tims inside the dozen portals immortalizing them at the memori- al only reinfon;e that they were the same kinds of people Roper met dur- ing the years he worked on Bonfire, he said. Hundreds of memorial visitors lined up at the pOlials after the cere- mony. Some were seeing the trib- utes to their loved ones for the first time. Others read about Aggies they never knew. Tears came from both groups. Mourners left roses and other flo- ral arrangements near each portal. A white Bonfire pot - or construc- tion helmet - was placed at the cen- ter of the monument. "Fear not, for I am with thee," was written on it. Janell Case and her daughter, Angela, who both knew Bonfire vic- tim Michael Ebanks and are friends of his family, said the memorial brings them a sense of peace. "Their bodies aren't here, but their spirits are. You can feel it," Case said from the center of the memorial. "It's very moving. It's a celebration of their lives." . Brett Nauman's e-mail address is bnauman@theeagle.com. ,~ , Page A6 The Bryan-College Station Eagle Friday, November 19, 2004 LEGACY OF BONFIRE: THE DEDICATJ()N + Injured Aggie answers request. to speak at memorial dedication Eagle Staff Report When Chip Thiel opened his mail last month and read a letter asking him to speak at a dedication for a memorial honoring 12 Aggies killed in the Bonfire collapse, he was "floored. " The 26-year-old who was seriously injured when the stack crashed to the ground five years ago Thursday said he never expected to be called to such a duty. .. I've been gone for four years, and it just seemed like they'd ask one of the other 26 who were injured - someone who lives in College Sta- tion," Thiel said. "It's such an honor." Initially, there was some hesitation from his wife, Stephanie. "She said, 'No, you don't need to be doing this.' She thinks I cry too much. She said I was going to cry and not be able to read the speech," Thiel said. "She was just kidding, but it's true." Not a far-off prediction, consider- ing he cried on the happiest day of his life when the financial adviser mar- ried Stephanie in July 2001. "I knew from the minute I saw the request that I'd do it, absolutely," he said two days before he was sched- uled to give the speech. Knowing that he'd once again be seeing the families of his deceased friends and be speaking to thousands of strangers wasn't what gave the Richmond resident pause. "I just hope I get through it," he said. On Thursday, he did. He choked back tears and dabbed his eyes sever- al times as he gave an emotional trib- ute to the tradition of Bonfire, but Thiel pushed through while some quietly sobbed listening to him. Like many of the 27 injured, Thiel had already ma'de the trip to College Station to see the memorial before the official dedication. He went over by himself before a recent football game and walked slowly to each of the three portals where his friends were memorialized: Chris Breen, whom he was talking to as the logs started to collapse, Jeremy Frampton and Jerry Don Self, both of whom were within an arm's reach. "There's nothing going on out there - it's quiet," he said. "Every- thing is different now. I didn't have to see the memorial to get motivation for the speech. It's already a part of who I am." Eagle photo/Butch Ireland Chip Thiel, who was Injured in the 1999 Bonfire collapse, embraces Jerry Ebanks, father of Bonfire victim Michael Ebanks, on Thursday at the Bonfire Memorial. A SNAPSHOT OF THE TRIBUTE Gov. Rick Perry spoke briefly at Thursday's dedication, but one of his messages was hard to miss: He looks forward to Bonfire returning to cam- pus. Many in the crowd might have been asking if Perry knows something they don't. Some former and current stu- dents have been trying to bring the log tower back to Aggieland since the deadly collapse five years ago. Former Texas A&M University A&M President Ray Bowen suspended plans for future bonfires. and his replacement. Robert Gates, has said no decisions about the tradition's future will be made until lawsuits relat- ed to the disaster are resolved. Perry, who earned a degree from A&M in 1972 and was a yell leader his final two years, is considered one of A&M's more influential graduates. But he didn't give a timeline for Bonfire's possible return, either. Kathy Walt, a spokeswoman for Perry, said the governor had no hesi- tation in bringing up his wishes about future bonfires in his speech to the crowd. which included injured stu- dents and family members of the dead. "He's talked about this before today," Walt said. "Of course, it's not a decision he will make - when or if it returns. He thinks the safety issues must be addressed if it's to progress. " . A sight identical to the same one five years ago where 12 Aggies died could hardly go unnoticed Thursday: the swarm of media. More than 100 members of the media set up near the Bonfire Memor- ial site, according to A&M officials. Thirty newspapers, television stations and radio stations - even the Los Angeles Times - sent people to cover the event. . Les and Andrea Heard say it was no surprise to them that their 19-year-old son, Chris, climbed to the top of Bon- fire his first night to work on the stack - Nov. 18, 1999. The eager Texas A&M University freshman always was willing to step up and volunteer for a job, his soft- spoken parents said. Chris was killed in the collapse. Traveling to College Station for the dedication marked the first time the pair returned to A&M together since the 1999 collapse. It also was the first time they saw the likeness of their son, cast in bronze at his portal. Nine months ago, the Heards became grandparents when their older son's wife had a child. They said it makes them feel good to know the young boy will be able to learn about his uncle through the words at the memorial. And through the bronze cast, their grandson will get to see a three-dimensional image of Chris that photographs don't provide. . Streams of people continued to trek to the memorial service long after it began. On one side of the stage, a seemingly never-ending line of visitors filed into the ceremony from a path leading to University Drive. On the other side, small groups of people trickled across the Polo Fields through- out the service, all headed to the memorial to pay their respects. . Putting his hand to his head, Texas A&M graduate David Frost cried as he listened to'Chip Thiel describe for the thousands at the service exactly what a night was like for students building Bonfire. Frost, sitting near the stage in the area reserved for families and special guests, flashed a thumbs-up to Thiel after the younger Aggie returned to his seat following his speech. When asked why he was so moved by Thiel's words, Frost simply held out his hand and motioned toward his Aggie ring. "Just like he said - we're all relat- ed," he said, referring to the Aggie family. . The distant beating of drums sent a hush through the small crowd of A&M students gathered near the Polo Fields shortly before 2 p.m. Thursday. As the Fightin' Texas Aggie Band marched to the site of the Bonfire Memorial dedication, the growing vol- ume of the drums and synchronized stomp of boots became the only sounds to be heard. . Christine Gonzalez took off work Thursday afternoon and drove from Houston with her three children to show them what it means to attend Texas A&M University. Bonfire was one of the traditions the 1990 A&M graduate appreciated most. Only 10-year-old Cutter, her old- est child, remembers attendin~ the annual burning. Dane, 5, was born two days after the 1999 collapse, and Hannah is 17 months old. The older two were per- fectly happy to make the trip to Col- lege Station, their mother said - they got to miss school. "I want my kids to know what the Aggie spirit is all about," Gonzalez said. "It's about being here for others. By all of us coming here today, it shows the families their loss was a loss for all of us, too. They were our brothers and sisters. This is a family." Staff reports Wrapped tightly around those hurting souls, arms locked across their neighbors' shoulders and waists, these thousands of Aggies fill the grassy circle. Someone starts singing "The Spirit of Aggieland," and all join in a chorus that rises to just above a whisper, testifying to a spirit can ne'er be told. 2:42 I From Al J'eminded of wounds that never nave fully healed. To pay their respects. To weep and to remem- ber. Five years have passed and the place looks much different. Freshly planted grass grows over the once muddy field. Twelve arches of rock and metal stand tall just a stone's throw from where Bonfire towered and roared. The rectangular por- tals are connected by a circular gravel walkway and 27 granite blocks tracing the former perime- ter of the construction site. Indeed, the park-like setting is unrecognizable as the place where armies of eager Aggies busily posi- tioned heavy logs into a massive Bonfire every fall under the glare of high-power lights. The noisy rev- elry of the annual burning festivi- ties faded long ago. What does remain on this chilly early Thursday morning cloaked in a thick, smoky fog is the somber atmosphere that settled in when the tradition ground to a tragic halt. By twos and threes, darkened fig- ures walk to the Centerpole marker like mourners to a grave. Some kneel and pray; others bow their heads. A few gingerly stroke the marker or press a hand flat against the rain-soaked soil. They embrace and cry. These are the suffering souls who lost loved ones when Bonfire broke apart beneath scores of workers five years ago, killing 11 students and one former student. They are among the 27 others who were crushed, cut, bruised and battered when the 5,000 logs tumbled to the ground. And they are the ones who have kept vigil here at 2:42 a.m. every Nov. 18 since. A growing crowd - mostly cur- rent students - watches from a distance, standing pensively along the perimeter circle and wandering through the dozen portals that immortalize those who died. Boots crunch the gravel, and a legion of hazy silhouettes appears atop the earthen berm that was built around the memorial to seclude it from nearby roads and parking Visitors to the Bonfire Memorial early Thursday morning are silhouetted against "The Last Corps Trip" engraved at the entrance. Eagle photo/ButCh Ireland areas. What draws these 2,500 or more is not the physical monument, but rather the emotional, personal and spiritual links to the day that deliv- ered such tremendous loss of life and tradition. From the tender-faced freshmen for whom Bonfire is a far-off legend to the teary-eyed former students still pained by the tragedy of the collapse - they remember. From the spit-and-polish Corps of Cadets squadrons decked out in neatly pressed uniforms to the throngs of one-time Bonfire work- ers linking arms with pots in hand - they remember. This field where death so sudden- ly replaced cheer and celebration has rested little over five years of continual change. The grungy Bonfire area slowly evaporated as A&M cleared away debris from the collapse, the huge shrine of flowers and memorabilia and the shacks where workers had gathered. The hallowed ground later became a muddy mess as drainage projects proceeded near- by. Construction of the memorial followed. Finally, there is peace and per- manence. At 2:42 a.m., the quiet deepens. No one stands on the grass within the circle. The Corps' white-clad Ross Volunteers stand guard over the scene. Only sobs and muted coughs break the chilly calm. They remember. Five minutes later, some families of the dead again walk to the cen- ter. Friends join them. In the midst of the public griev- ing, these 20 or so folks are briefly lost behind an invisible veil of pri- vacy before a voice carries forth from the group. It's Richard West, father of Nathan Scott West, one of the 12 who died. He recites a poem nor- mally read at these anniversary gatherings by Janice Kerlee, whose son, Tim Jr., also died. She's not here, so Richard steps in, speaking just loudly enough for the thou- sands to share in the loving refrain: "We remember them." He then solemnly states the name of each Aggie who perished, 11 of them at this site and the 12th a day later in a local hospital. As dictated by the Muster tradition, voices ring out in the night - "here" - to answer the roll call for those who no longer can. There begins a single verse of "Amazing Grace." The hymn gen- tly takes flight from the lips of thousands. The spontaneous ceremony might have ended here if not for a sweet gesture from those family members and close friends: "Y'all come on in." Without hesitation, the crowd - which had kept a respectful distance outside the perimeter - presses toward the center, gingerly stepping over flow- ers left in the portals, to deliver a giant Aggie hug. Wrapped tightly around those hurting souls, arms locked across their neighbors' shoulders and waists, these thousands of Aggies fill the grassy circle. Someone starts singing "The Spirit of Aggieland," and all join in a chorus that rises to just above a whisper, testifying to a spirit can ne'er be told. Time stands still as the crowd holds its embrace, a final expres- sion of emotion after nearly an hour spent together in mourning. It's a chance to simply remember before life moves on once again, and for a precious few moments, nothing else matters. . John LeBas' e-mail address is jlebas@theeagle.com. t