The Spirit of Aggieland – looking back at Bonfire

10 years ago this very night, a horrible thing happened to a place that I dearly love.  10 years ago, a horrific scene was left.  10 years ago, 12 young men and women whom I had never met, but with whom I had an unbreakable bond died.  10 years ago, the bonfire stack collapsed and that changed the landscape of my beloved Texas A&M forever. 

I had been gone from campus for four years when tragedy struck.  I don’t remember where I was when I got the news.  I was doing life and honestly don’t remember much at all from that horrible time that I know the current students faced.  But reading this article in Texas Monthly recently gave me just a hint of what they went through.  (You really should read it.)

So, today, I remember these twelve and their families.  Today I recognize that their families still mourn the loss of those young men and women.  Today, however, I also mourn the loss of the tradition of bonfire that was so dear to the hearts of Aggies over the last 100 years.  So, today, I want to give you a glimpse into what Aggie Bonfire, was like for me.

To understand even a little bit of Bonfire, you must realize that it was entirely built by students.  The tradition started in 1909 as a pile of scraps and morphed eventually into a five-tiered wedding cake looking design and symbolized “our burning desire to beat the hell outta t.u.”  It was the height of Aggie tradition at its best.  Teamwork, ingenuity, hard work and passion all came together over the fall semester and culminated in a fire that’s probably bigger than you can possibly imagine.

Each year’s Bonfire was the freshman class’s Bonfire.  My Bonfire (my freshman year) in 1991 was the last Bonfire to be held on Duncan Field.  Now, I say “My Bonfire” but I’ll be the first to admit that I was not one of the “red-ass” girls that was out at cut and working on stack.  Nope.  My place was in the Coke Shack providing lemonade and hot cocoa to those who were red-ass enough to be building it. 

My man, though, while we did not know one another at the time, was one who went to cut, swung an axe (yes… an axe) and got in there to help build Bonfire.  Most of the stories that he could tell are not really fitting for a mostly family friendly blog.  But he did remember one night being out at stack and was tied to one of the perimeter poles  in order to protect it (don’t ask because I don’t know that I could explain it).  One of the Junior Red Pots (JeRPs) came the next morning and rounded up several fish (aka freshmen), loaded them into his truck, drove them out to cut site, handed them trash bags and told them to get to work picking up trash.  In my man’s words, “it was early, it was cold and it was drizzly. In a word, miserable.”  He also recalled,

“We’d have fun at cut because you weren’t allow to walk away from a tree with a notch in it.  You’d work together as a dorm until that tree was down.  So it was fun to go over to another dorm’s section of the woods, right before lunch, and notch a tree, then run.  The JeRPs would come through and wouldn’t release that dorm to go to lunch until all the notched trees were down, regardless of how hungry they were.”

Our sophomore year was the first year that Bonfire would be held on the Polo Fields.  It was a difficult year for those building it because the new field was still very soft soil.  It hadn’t been trampled on and packed down like Duncan had been for probably at least 30 years.  It was a muddy mess that year, if I remember right. 

My sophomore year was also the year that a friend of mine from high school that attended OU came down to visit.  Bonfire was something he wanted to experience.  When I asked him today if he remembered that trip, this was his response:

“I remember. It's not the sort of thing one forgets. I remember hearing about bonfire for several years. Usually, stories become tall tales, rarely living up to the hype; but this was different. Nothing prepared me for how big the structure really is. Now, on top of all of this is something the Aggie faithful call 'yell practice'. Well, I don't know why they call it practice, because I believe I was the only one here that felt a bit like a fish out of water. This of course did not stop the Aggie students from putting their arms around me and allowing me, an outsider, to participate in what has to be the world's largest pep rally. I feel fortunate to be counted amongst those that had the pleasure to experience such a great tradition.  I can assure you that OU has nothing in comparison.”

This is what my friend saw that night.

I love that picture because with those hands sticking up in the air, you get a sense of the size that Bonfire was.

We remember that the yell leaders would always thank all the t-sips that were there to see Bonfire burn for their presence and their support.  It’s true, too.  There were always t.u. students and fans that would come to see the spectacle, just as my friend from OU did.  In fact, our junior year, a friend of mine from t.u. came to Bonfire with us.  That was also the year that the Class of ‘94 invited the class of ‘64 to come back and have it’s last Bonfire since it was cancelled in the fall of 1963 to respect the death of President Kennedy.

My senior year was the year  that excessive rain caused the ground to shift,  and on October 26, 1994, centerpole cracked and stack started to lean.  The decision was made to pull it down completely and start over with 7 days until the burn date.  That year was known as “Rebuild.”

Both Mike and I were living off campus and since much of the Bonfire involvement was done through on campus dorms, we had not been involved up to that point that year.  At that point, though, we were involved.  Everyone was.  I think I may have even helped to schlep a log one night.  One log and I was done, but I had done my part.

It’s hard to explain what Bonfire was, but if you don’t understand it, then these deaths are also hard to understand.   (Not that they are easy to understand even for those of us who do understand Bonfire.)  The entire fall semester revolved around it.  Some people wore the same clothes to cut and stack every time they went and never washed their grodes (as they were called) but just burned them at Bonfire.  It united the student body like nothing else ever did.  At Bonfire we were one.  And I think that’s part of why we built it. 

I was not there in 1999 when the second time it collapsed it did so violently with people on top and killed 12 fellow Aggies.  I was not there and have been somewhat removed from the tragedy.  But my heart aches for the families that lost young lives that night and in the days following.  My heart also aches for my school that lost a tradition and for the classes since then who have not experienced all that Bonfire was. 

I have gotten to know several Aggies on Twitter as of late and there are two girls who were there at the time.  @aggieredhead recalled having taken a log from Bonfire in 1998 and eventually getting rid of it not realizing it would be the last Bonfire on campus.  @niseag03 told me about the Yell Practice that Friday before the game against t.u.  “…They showed an image of Bonfire on the jumbotron. Not a dry eye, and not a single sound. Such solidarity and unity in one place.” 

Will Bonfire ever return to campus at Texas A&M?  I don’t know.  I doubt it, but I wish, on some level, that it could. 

But today, my hope for Aggieland is that even if Bonfire does not return to campus, the students will find some way to unite the diverse campus in a large scale way the way Bonfire did.  That they would find a unifying way to truly demonstrate in a new way “the spirit can ne’er be told.”

I leave you with this poem that was recited at each Bonfire by the head yell leader by memory.

"The Last Corps Trip"
By P.H. DuVal Jr. '51

It was Judgment Day in Aggieland
And tenseness filled the air;
All knew there was a trip at hand,
But not a soul knew where.

Assembled on the drill field
Was the world-renowned Twelfth Man,
The entire fighting Aggie team
And the famous Aggie Band.

And out in front with Royal Guard
The reviewing party stood;
St. Peter and his angel staff
Were choosing bad from good.

First he surveyed the Aggie team
And in terms of an angel swore,
"By Jove, I do believe I've seen
This gallant group before.

I've seen them play since way back when,
And they've always had the grit;
I've seen 'em lose and I've seen 'em win
But I've never seen 'em quit.

No need for us to tarry here
Deciding upon their fates;
Tis plain as the halo on my head
That they've opened Heaven's gates."

And when the Twelfth Man heard this,
They let out a mighty yell
That echoed clear to Heaven
And shook the gates of Hell.

"And what group is this upon the side,"
St. Peter asked his aide,
"That swelled as if to burst with pride
When we our judgment made?"

"Why, sir, that's the Cadet Corps
That's known both far and wide
For backing up their fighting team
Whether they won lost or tied."

"Well, then," said St. Peter,
"It's very plain to me
That within the realms of Heaven
They should spend eternity.

And have the Texas Aggie Band
At once commence to play
For their fates too we must decide
Upon this crucial day."

And the drum major so hearing
Slowly raised his hand
And said, "Boys, let's play The Spirit
For the last time in Aggieland."

And the band poured forth the anthem,
In notes both bright and clear
And ten thousand Aggie voices
Sang the song they hold so dear.

And when the band had finished,
St. Peter wiped his eyes
And said, "It's not so hard to see
They're meant for Paradise."

And the colonel of the Cadet Corps said
As he stiffly took his stand,
"It's just another Corps Trip, boys,
We'll march in behind the band."