Time, loss and remembrance

Sean Kirst | By Sean Kirst | The Post-Standard
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on November 14, 2009 at 9:16 AM, updated November 14, 2009 at 10:30 AM

I've been doing a lot of thought this week about the nature of communal memory. On Veterans Day, while attending a wonderful veterans' luncheon at the Fairmount Community Church, it occurred to me that the absolute youngest veterans of World War II are now in their 80s. If a kid managed to get into the service at 16 in early August 1945, the last days of the war, that kid would be 80 today. That hits home, simply because that generation had such a profound influence on the nation ... literally running the country until 1992, when the first George Bush left the White House.

The Remembrance Week at Syracuse University, dedicated to those lost on Pan Am Flight 103 in 1988, left me with a similar sense of passage. Educators at SU who were involved with the tragedy quietly reflected this week on how this year's graduating class will be the last with a large percentage of students born before the plane went down - which has led to much discussion and thought about how to retain vivid and meaningful memory of the passengers on the plane.

Amid those reflections, I received the following letter. I'd appreciate hearing your thoughts in the comments below, on the forum or at


Funny you should mention this. I had been thinking about doing a piece for my blog about The Half-Life of Grief, based on a similar observation about how much time has passed. However, in addition to our own "one terrible day," I was going to include those of Kent OH, and Bath MI as examples.

Now you and I are both old enough to know what Kent OH was all about. I don't know about you, but I was in 8th grade on May 4, 1970, and I can't hear the names "Kent State" or "Kent OH" without thinking of that "one terrible day," and the famous picture that was on the front of every newspaper the next day. But almost 40 years later, how many people are still on campus, or in town for that matter, who were there and still remember? Any faculty or staff members have long since retired or died, most students have long since moved away, and I wonder how much of the town itself has "turned over" since then. In addition, not only did the events of May 1970 happen long before any of the current students were born, it's getting close to happening before the parents of those student were born. As it is, they happened before most of those parents were too young to be aware of them.

It would be interesting to know how Kent and the University handle the memory 39 years later. Whether they are still actively trying to keep it alive, or whether they're letting it take its natural course of fading - much like a memories of students killed during WWI, WWII, Korea, and even Vietnam. At some point the memories have to fade. We can't remember and hold onto every tragedy. It's not good for us...or those we remember.

Which brings us to Bath MI. I'm betting you had never heard of the town before. I hadn't until the random Wikipedia "article of the day" brought up a piece about the Bath School Disaster of 1927. Then I got to thinking of how the people in this town have handled things in the 80 years since. Are they still actively "honoring the memory" of their "one terrible day," or are they trying to get past it?

I wrote to people in both towns, and only heard from Bath. I guess it really does pay to "ask a librarian," because that's exactly who I asked.

The response was that the town does not want to be solely identified by that tragedy, and tries to play it down, especially since some cretin phones in a bomb threat every now and then on the anniversary, which they have to take seriously. There is a memorial in town, but no big formal observances. There may have been some 60 or 70 years ago, but no more. And the remaining four or five people in town who still remember (which would put them at 85+ years old) steadfastly refuse to be interviewed about it, and want to be left alone.

At some point the memory of our "one terrible day" will fade, except for a few people still directly affected by it, and a few historians. It has to. It will become a historical footnote much like the Split Rock explosion - something that happened here, but doesn't define us. At some point it will have happened before the parents of the incoming class of SU students were born.

Hmm...maybe you remember every year for the first 10 years. Then every five until you get to 30, and every ten until you get to 50. At that point, most people with any ties to it will have been long gone anyway. Then you have one last observance at 100 years, and you put it to bed. Maybe that's what the half-life of grief is.

The time when the parents of the incoming class were born after our "one terrible day" will be around 2032, just six years short of the 50 year mark, and I'll be 76 then. I hope I'm still around to see the day.--

Keith E. Gatling