It was on this very night 10 years ago when one of the greatest tragedies in Texas, if not the entire nation, occurred. Since 1906 the students and alumni at Texas A&M had cherished a traditional bonfire that would take place on a country field about 15 miles from the College Station campus, this just two days before the football team would face rival Texas in their annual battle.

It originally started as little more than a big trash heap, but by the 1950s it had turned into quite an engineering feat, huge logs stacked end on end in the shape of a gigantic Christmas tree that would in later years tower over 100 feet high. It was taller than any building on campus for the longest time.

So it was on Nov. 18, 1999, that a small army of Aggies was crawling over the stack, which was bathed in spotlights. By then the stack had grown to about 55 feet high and weighed an estimated one million pounds when, at around 2:45 in the morning, something went seriously wrong. Of the 60 students who were working on the stack at the time, 12 were killed and another 27 were hurt, some quite seriously.

Common sense prevailed and "Bonfire" was soon canceled by the university, but now there is a strong sentiment to bring it back. Texas Gov. Rick Perry, an A&M grad, is saying it may be as soon as next year and not just because the annual pep rally drew a crowd of nearly 70,000 Aggies. It is a hallowed tradition.

In the current issue of the always delightful magazine, "Texas Monthly," the best explanation comes from the 1947 Texas A&M Freshman Handbook. "The Bonfire symbolizes two things - a burning desire to beat the team from the University of Texas, and the undying flame of love that every loyal Aggie carries in his heart for the school."

Today there a beautiful monument on the College Station campus called "The Ring of Fire" in memory of this tragic night and, while you'd hope the Texas A&M Bonfire would return with some rigid safety rules, it is always fun to bring it up in conversations with A&M alumni who fondly recall that having blisters on one's hands from cutting the wood and carrying it to the stack was indeed a badge of honor.

I became interested in Texas A&M as a young sports writer when I heard about "The Junction Boys," the football players Bear Bryant darn-near killed when he coached there before going to Alabama. Jim Dent wrote a great book about it and now it is a part of the university's rich lore.

Texas A&M was founded in 1876 with the goal of "developing leaders of character dedicated to serving the greater good." The Corps of Cadets is still quite legendary - about 2,000 students strong - and since women didn't start attending the school until the 1960s, when it was also desegregated, the place has got a lot of "manly" traditions - like going to Kyle Field for the "Midnight Yell" the night before a home game or building 100-foot-high bonfires in an arduous two-month exercise that would burn down in only several hours.

Incidentally, A&M is also where "The Twelfth Man" was founded and it is a true story. A&M was playing Centre's football team in the Dixie Classic in Dallas (which would later become the Sugar Bowl) on Jan. 2, 1922, when Coach Dana X. Bible's Aggies had some sudden injuries.

Back then they didn't have the huge squads like today and a reserve player named King Gill had quit the team early in order to play basketball. So the Coach yelled for him to come from the press box, put on the injured Heine Weir's uniform, and "be ready." Gill never got in the game, but, at the end, there were 11 players on the field and only Gill on the sidelines. He was indeed the 12th man.

One more story - back in the days when Texas A&M had only males, all who were destined to become "either farmers or fighters (military men)," they had no female cheerleaders, of course, but instead they called the kids who guided the cheer and chants "yell leaders."

Few people other than old Aggies know this, but it is also very true. When Texas A&M would be driving the ball downfield late in the game, the "yell leaders" would lean beside one another just like a wave and would then grab their crotches and squeeze mightily so "they could share in the pain." Yes, I know you think I'm lying, but I've been to A&M and seen pictures in the athletic department that prove it. Yessir, you talk about nuts, whew!

So if you think bringing the Texas A&M Bonfire back is a bad idea, let me assure you of one thing - resurrecting an old tradition could be a lot worse in Aggieland.

royexum@aol.com
November 17, 2009