My husband and I were seniors the year of the plane crash. We were out in his volkswagen at the service station down on 1st Street getting gas when we heard over the radio the news the Marshall's football team had crashed short of the runway. The attendants heard it at the same time, and it was so unreal to us all that something that tragic could happen in Huntington, WV. I remember, too, what a dark, cold and rainy night it was. No stars were to be seen. I discovered the next day my landlord, Murrill Ralsten, and his wife were also on the plane. It really bothered me they had two small children left behind. I often wonder whatever happened to them.