“The Fire Within” -- Student Bonfire. . . . Aggie Bonfire. . . . 2004
Build it and they will come--my first thoughts in 2002.
Unity Bonfire, 2002.….a pile of wood with a line of car lights miles long--filled with Aggies who wanted to see the Rekindling of a great tradition……
Student Bonfire, 2003.…stack and outhouse in breathtaking beauty--huge crowd, roaring flames….
Bonfire 2004--- .
Bonfire weather. Mud, storms, drenching rain---and the overriding but unstated questions--on this night when attending would be next to impossible, when storms and threats of storms would keep many away--what would the Aggie family do? This night would mark the real test of the determination of the Aggie family to safely maintain our Bonfire.
Thursday after the dedication I had made a brief detour by stack--my buddy was not going to be able to return and I wanted her to see how “right” Bonfire seems--that off campus does not in any way lessen the “in your heart” part of it--and that is all that really matters isn’t it?
Still even then there was almost a moat at the bottom of the raceway where stack was built,and deep ruts marked the grassy parking lot. Then things looked a little messy, but the elevated track was solid and dry and with a little cooperation from the weather, the careful planning for Burn was going to pay off. It looked, sounded, and smelled like Bonfire.
I am so proud of the students this year and I can’t say enough how special these young adults are--in every way. The 12th Man has been incredible at games, thousands stood in the middle of the foggy night showing silent love and respect for the families of the Bonfire victims, tens of thousands stood for the memorial ceremony--many hearing for the first time from speakers the many “right” things about Bonfire that were perhaps lost in the horror of the bad.
All would be tested on Saturday--and all made it not even look like a test.
I almost did not go. There were serious storms in Central Texas, and they appeared to be moving toward BCS--and it had already rained there all day. I read the messages on the forums to wear disposable shoes. Still I had to go--in part because after Thursday’s visit I wanted to make sure that someone was there. I was seriously afraid that the horrible conditions would keep many away. And I am sure many did stay home. This was no place for the elderly or even those with small children--although a few families braved the storms.
The drive over was treacherous. In fact in and near Cameron the lightening was popping right over the car--with no break between the flash and the sound . The rain was falling in sheets that slowed traffic to a crawl in both directions. Again I thought about turning tail and heading home, but my heart would not let me. Luckily before Milano, I drove out of the storm, but still feared it might be heading toward Bonfire.
I gathered my son and a friend and we headed out in his 4x4 truck--I knew my little cutlass was not the vehicle for a stormy night. I had hoped we could still park at stack since I was seriously (I hate lightening) afraid of being stranded at stack with no shelter if that monster storm caught up with us. Constables stopped us at the beginning of Molina (?)road though saying there was no parking and to go to the mall and ride the busses.
At that point I told my son to skip it and I was just going to drive home because again I was a coward about being out in the open without a vehicle to head to if the storms hit. At all times it was drizzling, but I don’t mind getting wet at all. My son though said he was going to find somewhere to park. He had a friend of a friend who lived on that road, so we headed that way hoping she still had room for one more car. We then met a large group in old pots and asked them where they had parked--and sure enough there was some room there. So we headed for the very short walk to the Bonfire entrance.
I did not therefore ride the busses, but from all observation the bus system worked perfectly. In hindsight the storm did not hit Bryan and we could have safely ridden the busses, but I was much more secure knowing I could get to shelter and not have to completely leave if a storm hit.
As we entered Bonfire, there were shouted announcements from human loud speakers. One for the busses was that special busses were going to be waiting at 9:30 to take Corps members back to the quad because of a curfew. It is a shame that they would have to miss so much of the evening--but still so great that the Aggie family was working together to let them at least share a part of the evening.
Next were the two town criers--two young ladies with huge voices telling people to go to the right if we were spectators.
The real story though was the mud. Mud, mud, everywhere. It was like walking on ice one minute--slipping every step. Then just as suddenly it would turn into hungry wet quicksand. It would suck at the shoes--trying to tear them off of my feet. Then just as I would step harder to get free of the glue like mire, the slick stuff would start again. If I had not had two young men with me--to hold on to and hold me up even a couple of times, I could not have made it in.
Finally I got to where I could hold the top of a chain link fence--and then I slowly made my way forward. I got to the bleachers--and this mature lady stopped there. If I had been even ten years younger I would have plowed on, but for me--this was the end. The view here was great--we had loudspeakers right in front of us, and standing in incredible beauty--bathed in bright lights--was stack.
The center “moat” was filled with Aggies, and a human wall snaked up the slanted dirt track of the raceway. Then the human chain circled all the way back to the bleachers where I safely watched.
If this stack help up under the storms and moisture and soil softness, then the design must be rock solid. Like last year, there is the look of a wedding cake--but the design is solid with each log on the ground. But the story this year was not the mud, or even stack. The story was in the students--who bus load after bud load plodded through that mud, braved the rain, and kept coming. By the thousands. And nearly all kept going when they got to my "island of safety" bleachers. Knowing there was more mud ahead, they kept going. Yes there were a few old Ags--some wearing ancient pots from their own "Bonfire weather" times. There were a few family groups--I even saw one with a stroller--it must have been made by Jeep. But 98 percent of the crowd were students. Barefoot sometimes by the time they reached us. Some with umbrellas or ponchos, but most just exposed to whatever nature handed out. But they just kept coming.
So much for my fears of a small turnout. Now I wonder how huge that crowd would have been on clear night. I would guess 8 to 12 thousand were there by the time stack is lit.
And the crowd was wonderful. The Spirit and the War Hymn would start in one corner and soon the entire group would be singing. Yell after yell with the heart as the only yell leader. The fuel mini-truck made at least two runs at stack, drenching it over and over--but the fuel seems to run off the logs already saturated with the day’s rainfall .
Finally, the lights go out and the pots enter with the torches. They make that trip around stack and then throw the torches. Here there is less than perfection, but it somehow fit the evening. Stack did not light up instantly. Many torches hit the ground, and others just evoked smoke without much in the way of flames. They are really working to get this one to light. Just as they really worked to just make it happen. Then finally a couple of second throws go into the center layers and the sheets catch fire. Still, it is a strange fire--burning from the inside first.
What a metaphor.
Blue fireflies danced in the masses in the moat and along the hillside climb out, and in the ring next to the bleachers--as a sea of camera phones tried to capture the fire for perhaps family or friends far away.
Now yell practice starts--with “real” yell leaders for the first time. Each one introduced themselves and from the bleachers every word was clear. Former members of the Corps of Cadets--Class of 04--these were just dead yells and they had a traditional Bonfire yell practice. “I have a story for you” featuring our friend Rock, and most importantly--the Last Corps Trip rang out over Aggie Bonfire recited by Aggie Yell Leaders. Their silhouettes were framed by the silhouettes of the outer layers of logs--since Bonfire was burning from the inside. Even from the bleachers we could follow every yell as the flames outlined the figures of the yell leaders.
Just as the flames were spreading to the outhouse we left since I had a long drive home into unknown weather. As we crossed again that sea of mud, there was still a near constant stream of Aggies arriving--as bus after bus dropped its groups at the entrance. Right in front of us an older Ag slipped and fell--and was coated in wet ooze--but unhurt. Even then he did not seem too upset.
It had not been easy, but then it never is, right.
I drove back home through heavy fog, and finally got home about one a.m. To an outsider looking in, there is no way they would understand it. I hope my fellow Aggies do.
I know that I saw the best off campus Aggie Bonfire yet. Aggieland is a place of the heart. That place was at Hot Rod Hill in the middle of a sea of mud. The burning desire is not really even about tu. It is about US. Aggies had a burning desire to keep the best of our tradition and prove that it could be done safely. Aggies don’t quit. So Student Bonfire found a way to restore and rekindle that flame in the hearts of thousands--who did not help them build, but did unite for burn. I believe this will continue to grow, as each year some who watch return the next year to work.
I know this--if stack stood like it did tonight--it is rock solid in design.
If tens of thousands braved horrid weather to watch, then off campus Aggie Bonfire is also solid in design and is not going anywhere.
This year former Yell Leaders were allowed to participate. Perhaps soon the time will come when former Bandsmen will also join with trumpets and tubas reflecting the flames.
The real fire is not in stack, but in the hearts of all of us who love so dearly and stand united.
Congratulations to student bonfire workers. You overcame so much this year. One obstacle at a time you are rekindling everything about the tradition in a safe and respectful way. I hope that the weather did not increase your financial hurdles. If it did , please let the Aggie family know.
The Burning Desire
Aggies know it.
“Never quit,
Give your best,
Tackle the impossible,
Find a way,
Work together,
Sacrifice,
Lead,
Remember,
Unite,
Win.”
Aggie Bonfire--
As small as a spark in the hearts of those far away.
A flaming stack of wood lighting the night sky.
Either way,
Aggies will Keep the Fire Burning.
Gig’em and
BTHOtu
[This message has been edited by 3rd Generation Ag (edited 11/21/2004 3:05p).]
[This message has been edited by 3rd Generation Ag (edited 11/21/2004 8:21p).]
Build it and they will come--my first thoughts in 2002.
Unity Bonfire, 2002.….a pile of wood with a line of car lights miles long--filled with Aggies who wanted to see the Rekindling of a great tradition……
Student Bonfire, 2003.…stack and outhouse in breathtaking beauty--huge crowd, roaring flames….
Bonfire 2004--- .
Bonfire weather. Mud, storms, drenching rain---and the overriding but unstated questions--on this night when attending would be next to impossible, when storms and threats of storms would keep many away--what would the Aggie family do? This night would mark the real test of the determination of the Aggie family to safely maintain our Bonfire.
Thursday after the dedication I had made a brief detour by stack--my buddy was not going to be able to return and I wanted her to see how “right” Bonfire seems--that off campus does not in any way lessen the “in your heart” part of it--and that is all that really matters isn’t it?
Still even then there was almost a moat at the bottom of the raceway where stack was built,and deep ruts marked the grassy parking lot. Then things looked a little messy, but the elevated track was solid and dry and with a little cooperation from the weather, the careful planning for Burn was going to pay off. It looked, sounded, and smelled like Bonfire.
I am so proud of the students this year and I can’t say enough how special these young adults are--in every way. The 12th Man has been incredible at games, thousands stood in the middle of the foggy night showing silent love and respect for the families of the Bonfire victims, tens of thousands stood for the memorial ceremony--many hearing for the first time from speakers the many “right” things about Bonfire that were perhaps lost in the horror of the bad.
All would be tested on Saturday--and all made it not even look like a test.
I almost did not go. There were serious storms in Central Texas, and they appeared to be moving toward BCS--and it had already rained there all day. I read the messages on the forums to wear disposable shoes. Still I had to go--in part because after Thursday’s visit I wanted to make sure that someone was there. I was seriously afraid that the horrible conditions would keep many away. And I am sure many did stay home. This was no place for the elderly or even those with small children--although a few families braved the storms.
The drive over was treacherous. In fact in and near Cameron the lightening was popping right over the car--with no break between the flash and the sound . The rain was falling in sheets that slowed traffic to a crawl in both directions. Again I thought about turning tail and heading home, but my heart would not let me. Luckily before Milano, I drove out of the storm, but still feared it might be heading toward Bonfire.
I gathered my son and a friend and we headed out in his 4x4 truck--I knew my little cutlass was not the vehicle for a stormy night. I had hoped we could still park at stack since I was seriously (I hate lightening) afraid of being stranded at stack with no shelter if that monster storm caught up with us. Constables stopped us at the beginning of Molina (?)road though saying there was no parking and to go to the mall and ride the busses.
At that point I told my son to skip it and I was just going to drive home because again I was a coward about being out in the open without a vehicle to head to if the storms hit. At all times it was drizzling, but I don’t mind getting wet at all. My son though said he was going to find somewhere to park. He had a friend of a friend who lived on that road, so we headed that way hoping she still had room for one more car. We then met a large group in old pots and asked them where they had parked--and sure enough there was some room there. So we headed for the very short walk to the Bonfire entrance.
I did not therefore ride the busses, but from all observation the bus system worked perfectly. In hindsight the storm did not hit Bryan and we could have safely ridden the busses, but I was much more secure knowing I could get to shelter and not have to completely leave if a storm hit.
As we entered Bonfire, there were shouted announcements from human loud speakers. One for the busses was that special busses were going to be waiting at 9:30 to take Corps members back to the quad because of a curfew. It is a shame that they would have to miss so much of the evening--but still so great that the Aggie family was working together to let them at least share a part of the evening.
Next were the two town criers--two young ladies with huge voices telling people to go to the right if we were spectators.
The real story though was the mud. Mud, mud, everywhere. It was like walking on ice one minute--slipping every step. Then just as suddenly it would turn into hungry wet quicksand. It would suck at the shoes--trying to tear them off of my feet. Then just as I would step harder to get free of the glue like mire, the slick stuff would start again. If I had not had two young men with me--to hold on to and hold me up even a couple of times, I could not have made it in.
Finally I got to where I could hold the top of a chain link fence--and then I slowly made my way forward. I got to the bleachers--and this mature lady stopped there. If I had been even ten years younger I would have plowed on, but for me--this was the end. The view here was great--we had loudspeakers right in front of us, and standing in incredible beauty--bathed in bright lights--was stack.
The center “moat” was filled with Aggies, and a human wall snaked up the slanted dirt track of the raceway. Then the human chain circled all the way back to the bleachers where I safely watched.
If this stack help up under the storms and moisture and soil softness, then the design must be rock solid. Like last year, there is the look of a wedding cake--but the design is solid with each log on the ground. But the story this year was not the mud, or even stack. The story was in the students--who bus load after bud load plodded through that mud, braved the rain, and kept coming. By the thousands. And nearly all kept going when they got to my "island of safety" bleachers. Knowing there was more mud ahead, they kept going. Yes there were a few old Ags--some wearing ancient pots from their own "Bonfire weather" times. There were a few family groups--I even saw one with a stroller--it must have been made by Jeep. But 98 percent of the crowd were students. Barefoot sometimes by the time they reached us. Some with umbrellas or ponchos, but most just exposed to whatever nature handed out. But they just kept coming.
So much for my fears of a small turnout. Now I wonder how huge that crowd would have been on clear night. I would guess 8 to 12 thousand were there by the time stack is lit.
And the crowd was wonderful. The Spirit and the War Hymn would start in one corner and soon the entire group would be singing. Yell after yell with the heart as the only yell leader. The fuel mini-truck made at least two runs at stack, drenching it over and over--but the fuel seems to run off the logs already saturated with the day’s rainfall .
Finally, the lights go out and the pots enter with the torches. They make that trip around stack and then throw the torches. Here there is less than perfection, but it somehow fit the evening. Stack did not light up instantly. Many torches hit the ground, and others just evoked smoke without much in the way of flames. They are really working to get this one to light. Just as they really worked to just make it happen. Then finally a couple of second throws go into the center layers and the sheets catch fire. Still, it is a strange fire--burning from the inside first.
What a metaphor.
Blue fireflies danced in the masses in the moat and along the hillside climb out, and in the ring next to the bleachers--as a sea of camera phones tried to capture the fire for perhaps family or friends far away.
Now yell practice starts--with “real” yell leaders for the first time. Each one introduced themselves and from the bleachers every word was clear. Former members of the Corps of Cadets--Class of 04--these were just dead yells and they had a traditional Bonfire yell practice. “I have a story for you” featuring our friend Rock, and most importantly--the Last Corps Trip rang out over Aggie Bonfire recited by Aggie Yell Leaders. Their silhouettes were framed by the silhouettes of the outer layers of logs--since Bonfire was burning from the inside. Even from the bleachers we could follow every yell as the flames outlined the figures of the yell leaders.
Just as the flames were spreading to the outhouse we left since I had a long drive home into unknown weather. As we crossed again that sea of mud, there was still a near constant stream of Aggies arriving--as bus after bus dropped its groups at the entrance. Right in front of us an older Ag slipped and fell--and was coated in wet ooze--but unhurt. Even then he did not seem too upset.
It had not been easy, but then it never is, right.
I drove back home through heavy fog, and finally got home about one a.m. To an outsider looking in, there is no way they would understand it. I hope my fellow Aggies do.
I know that I saw the best off campus Aggie Bonfire yet. Aggieland is a place of the heart. That place was at Hot Rod Hill in the middle of a sea of mud. The burning desire is not really even about tu. It is about US. Aggies had a burning desire to keep the best of our tradition and prove that it could be done safely. Aggies don’t quit. So Student Bonfire found a way to restore and rekindle that flame in the hearts of thousands--who did not help them build, but did unite for burn. I believe this will continue to grow, as each year some who watch return the next year to work.
I know this--if stack stood like it did tonight--it is rock solid in design.
If tens of thousands braved horrid weather to watch, then off campus Aggie Bonfire is also solid in design and is not going anywhere.
This year former Yell Leaders were allowed to participate. Perhaps soon the time will come when former Bandsmen will also join with trumpets and tubas reflecting the flames.
The real fire is not in stack, but in the hearts of all of us who love so dearly and stand united.
Congratulations to student bonfire workers. You overcame so much this year. One obstacle at a time you are rekindling everything about the tradition in a safe and respectful way. I hope that the weather did not increase your financial hurdles. If it did , please let the Aggie family know.
The Burning Desire
Aggies know it.
“Never quit,
Give your best,
Tackle the impossible,
Find a way,
Work together,
Sacrifice,
Lead,
Remember,
Unite,
Win.”
Aggie Bonfire--
As small as a spark in the hearts of those far away.
A flaming stack of wood lighting the night sky.
Either way,
Aggies will Keep the Fire Burning.
Gig’em and
BTHOtu
[This message has been edited by 3rd Generation Ag (edited 11/21/2004 3:05p).]
[This message has been edited by 3rd Generation Ag (edited 11/21/2004 8:21p).]
- we were there tromping around in the mud soup. About midnight, there were only about fifty of us left since the buses were stopping, then we heard another Rock story. Great times, I can't wait to work my arse off on it next year.