The Baby Boomer Generation: We Are Marshall

With the release of "We Are Marshall" I'm not the only moviegoer who will be remembering that cold November night when the entire Marshall football team, coaches and supporters perished in a plane crash. I'll be remembering my town, my team and my school.

I remember the serious tone of Boz Johnson, the local TV news anchor, as the first pictures started coming in from the Tri-State Airport crash site. For me, it was like seeing JFK being shot in Dallas, or watching Bobby Kennedy bleed out on the floor of a restaurant kitchen - grainy, unreal, devastating. But this was close. These were people we knew - my father's boss, both parents of the three kids across the street- these were people we knew in the football program or on the radio play-by-play. Local heros, all gone in an instant.

That single moment defined a college and a college town. Time was measured in "since the crash." The longest losing streak in college football always seemed to put anoher yearly exclamation point on that sudden loss. And a succession of coaches seemed to illustrate that there is no magic to the 20 year process of rebuilding a football program and more importantly, its very soul.

Sitting in the stands at the 1992 National Championship, I knew Marshall football and Huntington, WV had once again found its soul. As the seconds ticked off, I peeked over my left shoulder to the cemetery visible in the hilly distance. I wanted to share the last few seconds of this historic moment with the young men who had framed it.