My 12 year old mind was trying to grasp what my mother had just told my nephew and me. With tears in her eyes she said there had been a plane crash over the hill on route 75, just a mile or so from the runway. She said it was Marshall's football team. I remember the raw emotion that I felt as a pre-teen. What I remember most is the hurt in my mother's eyes, and as the days passed, a town in mourning and disbelief. The tragedy we all faced that night 35 years ago will never leave our hearts and minds. What it has done is to bring a town together in a marvelous way. WE ARE MARSHALL, and will always be.