Tuesday, December 13, 2005

Of Tragedy and Remembrance

Tuesday, December 13, 1977

The first indication I had that something was horribly wrong was the sirens. Emergency vehicles were converging from every direction to a spot very close by. Nine year old Rusty and I ran outside into the foggy, rainy night and looked at our neighbors who had also come out. Our faces were white with terror. Several of our children were at a Madrigal dinner at the neighborhood school. Our first thought was Highland School. We always fear for our own when we know that something really bad is happening. Then I thought to run back inside and consult the TV. The sound of that lead-in music that means a special announcement is coming can still make my heart lurch.

A grim faced David James looked out at me and began to deliver his incredible message. It went something like this: "A chartered DC3 carrying 29 people, among them the entire Evansville Aces basketball team and Coach Bobby Watson, went down tonight shortly after takeoff from Dress Regional Airport. The plane was headed for Nashville, TN, where the Aces were to play Middle Tennessee State Wednesday night at Murfreesboro. The plane left the runway shortly after 7:20 p.m. and crashed less than 90 seconds later."

Newsman James and sports reporter Mike Blake went on to tell us that at least 26 passengers were dead and three had been rushed to Deaconess Hospital. Later in the night we learned that two died in the ambulance. Only Freshman Greg Smith was still alive. He was pronounced dead at 12:20 a.m.

As Rusty and I stood staring at the television with tears streaming down our cheeks, Cara returned from her evening activity with the school choir. We poured out the story to her and she, too, began to cry. She told us that everyone at the dinner knew something serious was going on because beepers went off one by one all over the room and doctors quietly slipped out, not to return.

The three of us remained glued to the TV, stunned and heartbroken. The Evansville Aces were the heart and soul of the Evansville community. They had just gone Division I after years of success at the Division II level. We attended every home game and the children worshipped the individual players. I finally tore myself away from the news and got the children calmed and into bed. Then, I lay on the bed with the TV going and dozed on and off until morning.

The headlines and pictures in the Evansville Courier made it all more real the next morning. Also killed in the crash were Marv Bates, popular Evansville radio sportscaster and the voice of the Evansville Aces; the UE athletic business manager; the UE controller; the UE sports information officer; three student managers; and two local businessmen. We were almost compelled to read every word written about the crash, to listen to every piece of information on TV, and to talk endlessly about it to our friends.

The next days and weeks went by in a blur to most of us in the Evansville and Tri State area. We were almost ashamed and embarrassed to be Christmas shopping, as though we had no right to seek pleasure and happiness from the Holiday season. I have no memory of that Christmas, who came to stay with us, who came for dinner...nothing. Mostly, I have an overweening sense of heaviness and depression. We attended memorial services and listened to community and University leaders pray for and praise the dead. The period of grieving seemed endless.

I asked Rusty tonight how he thought that crash had impacted his life. He says that he never boards a plane but that he thinks of that group of young men and their tragic end. The morning after the crash when Rusty had left for school, I found a slip of paper on which he had printed "Dear Evansville Aces, I will always love you and never forget you. Love, Rusty" As for Cara, she went on to graduate from the University of Evansville. Personally, I have had difficulty with the Christmas holidays ever since. The terrible sadness of that situation haunted me and exacerbated the depression I have suffered for so many years. But, wherever we are and whatever our circumstances, we will always be a part of the UE community and will always remember the 1977 Aces.

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