On Friday, the fountain in the middle of the Memorial Student Center Plaza on Marshall University’s campus will be shut off during an annual ceremony that is unique to the Marshall community. It commemorates the 75 sons and daughters of Marshall who were lost on November 14, 1970.
It has now been 55 years since Southern Airways Flight 932 crashed on a rainy, foggy night, just shy of Huntington Tri-State Airport. For those who lived through the tragedy, the pain is still evident when they share their experiences.
Growing up, I was familiar with the story. My uncle, Ed Wilson, was a freshman with the Thundering Herd in 1970 and a member of the Young Thundering Herd in 1971.
I admit that for many years, I did not have a true appreciation for the tragedy. I grew up a generation removed from the crash. I was not around in 1970 and only learned of the catastrophe through anecdotes and what I could read. However, that only told part of the story and did not adequately convey how the Marshall community was impacted by the crash.
In 2006, the story became real as the anticipation built for the release of the movie “We Are… Marshall.” For the first time, Jack Lengyel, Red Dawson, Reggie Oliver, Nate Ruffin, and others were not just names associated with the story; they were real people. The feature film, along with the documentary “Ashes to Glory,” brought the story to life and reintroduced my generation to the tragedy, re-energizing individuals’ stories that were in danger of fading away with time.
I gained a better understanding of the devastation the crash left behind following an interview with longtime WSAZ-TV anchor and Hall of Fame Broadcaster, Bos Johnson. He was on the front lines of the television coverage of the crash and had the unenviable task of telling the world the Marshall football team, coaches, and fans were gone. Listening to him tell his story, I could detect by the sound of his voice that it was still hard to talk about.
At the end of the interview, I asked what I thought was a throwaway question: if he would be attending the fountain ceremony that year.
His response was “no.”
In fact, Johnson told me he had never counted all the personal friends he lost that day. It was simply too difficult.
That hit home for me. Decades later, the pain of those who lived through the crash was still fresh. It made me realize that my generation has a responsibility to make certain that future generations understand the tragedy of November 14, 1970, and the scar that was left on the Marshall community, but also the triumph of rising from the ashes.
For many years, the crash was just not talked about. The wounds were still too raw, the pain still too strong. However, over the last two decades, those wounds have started to heal. Those who were directly involved have shared their stories, so they could be preserved and passed on. Now, the tragedy and triumph are embraced in the university’s culture, ensuring that the 75 will never be forgotten.
We Are… Marshall.