Most people who know me know about my connection to TWA Flight 800. It's affected so many areas of my life that it almost always comes up sooner or later. But there's one story that I don't often tell, one even close friends might not know. And that's the story of Will.
In 1996, the internet was just starting to be a thing everyone had; it was only that summer we had installed one of those free AOL discs on our computer at home. In my first semester of college, I spent a lot of time at the computer lab looking up news about the crash investigation. In doing so, I found a message board for friends and family of Flight 800 victims, and one day, I posted a message. I talked about how difficult it was to be away at school with no one else from home, how I missed the community that had become my safe haven that summer. The reply I received astounded me.
Will Rogers had lost his daughter, Kim, on Flight 800. She was a year behind me, and I'd had only one class with her, so I hadn't known her well. When she died, I learned that she was an only child and very close to her dad. He had quit his job when she was born and been a stay-at-home dad. She had been his whole world. Yet he responded to my message sending his condolences for my loss. His condolences. For my loss. To say I was humbled would be an understatement.
Will and I began corresponding fairly regularly. I think it was nice for both of us to feel connected. Maybe we each felt we were helping the other. I wouldn't say we shared anything especially deep, but his friendship meant a lot to me, especially that first year. Will died in 2000.
A few weeks ago, as I read Facebook posts about other efforts in Montoursville to reach out to Haltern, I thought of Will Rogers. I wondered what he would have thought of the Traveling Bear Society and wished I could reach out to ask him. Then I remembered the name of the bear I had sent to Haltern. Rodger.
Maybe I know what he thought after all.
In 1996, the internet was just starting to be a thing everyone had; it was only that summer we had installed one of those free AOL discs on our computer at home. In my first semester of college, I spent a lot of time at the computer lab looking up news about the crash investigation. In doing so, I found a message board for friends and family of Flight 800 victims, and one day, I posted a message. I talked about how difficult it was to be away at school with no one else from home, how I missed the community that had become my safe haven that summer. The reply I received astounded me.
Will Rogers had lost his daughter, Kim, on Flight 800. She was a year behind me, and I'd had only one class with her, so I hadn't known her well. When she died, I learned that she was an only child and very close to her dad. He had quit his job when she was born and been a stay-at-home dad. She had been his whole world. Yet he responded to my message sending his condolences for my loss. His condolences. For my loss. To say I was humbled would be an understatement.
Will and I began corresponding fairly regularly. I think it was nice for both of us to feel connected. Maybe we each felt we were helping the other. I wouldn't say we shared anything especially deep, but his friendship meant a lot to me, especially that first year. Will died in 2000.
A few weeks ago, as I read Facebook posts about other efforts in Montoursville to reach out to Haltern, I thought of Will Rogers. I wondered what he would have thought of the Traveling Bear Society and wished I could reach out to ask him. Then I remembered the name of the bear I had sent to Haltern. Rodger.
Maybe I know what he thought after all.