20 years ago this December 21st, 270 people were killed on Pan Am Flight 103 over Lockerbie, Scotland. 11 of these people were citizens of Lockerbie. All of the passengers on board the plane as well as all of the crew also died. They were victims of a terrorist bomb from Libya. Many were Americans, and many were young. One such young person was Tony Thomas. His full name was Arva Anthony Thomas. He was one of my students at Hanau American High School in Hanau, Germany. He was living with a family member who was active duty military, but was from Detroit. No one really called him Arva at the high school.
Tony was a funny guy. He hadn't been at Hanau very long, not being a traditional military brat like most of my students. The very nature of schools operated by the Department of Defense is one of acceptance and quick inclusion. Students come and go in such schools, based on whatever is necessary involving the troops around the world. So, while Tony was a city boy, with a little air of the urban street still encircling him, he became a member of the school community easily.
I was a computer teacher, and everyone ended up taking my class at some point because it was a requirement for graduation. It wasn't particularly hard, and back then I was a young, well-liked teacher and the students enjoyed being part of my class. Being a teacher in such an environment was different than teaching back in the States. There was a sense of "we are all in this together" from the faculty as well as the student body, and it wasn't unusual for students and teachers to be seen at the same community events, even enjoying each other's company. I loved it and knew I was very fortunate to have the opportunity to experience this kind of life.
Tony would often joke with me as he entered or left the classroom. In 1988, I was planning to come home at Christmas time to Columbus, Ohio to see my family. I had moved to Germany in 1985 to work for the Department of Defense, and never expected to stay more than the agreed upon 2 years of service. However, I really was having the time of my life and wanted to stay as long as I could. I missed my family, however, and my beloved grandmother had died during the previous year, so Christmas with my family had an even stronger sense of poignancy for me.
Tony and I talked about flying back to the US together, since he was going to Detroit and I was going to Columbus. However, I always flew TWA then because of accruing frequent flyer miles. I also was leaving sooner than the 21st in order to be at home as much as possible during my two week vacation. We did joke, however, about how funny it would be to step off the plane in Columbus together. My father, a rural Ohio farmboy, was not terribly open-minded about mixed racial couples. Tony was a fairly dark-skinned black young man, and I was a red-headed white woman. Playing a joke on my father that Tony and I were a couple made me laugh...it wasn't anything I really would have done, but Tony and I discussed a couple of times about the imagined looks we would get, especially if I could hold a wrapped up object like a baby in my arms when coming into the airport.
On Wednesday, December 21st, I had been home for a day or two, and was already in bed at my parents home when the phone rang late at night. My mother answered it, and then called me to the phone. It was an old college friend who heard about the Pan Am crash on the television, and immediately thought of me. I had no idea at the time that anyone I knew was on the plane, although it definitely shook me up. Flying back and forth from Germany to the US was something I did at least once or twice a year, and it never really entered my mind that there could be terrorists involved. The next day I received several more calls, all wondering if I was home safely. I still didn't know about Tony's death.
I went back to Germany to start the school year after the New Year. When I got to school, I heard the news that Tony had been on the plane. I couldn't believe that this 17 year old boy, going home for Christmas after being away from his family, was killed. The school held a memorial service for him, and his brother came to speak to us all. I remember crying in the auditiorium, and students looking at me. His brother said that Tony had been found in a field, not a mark on his body, looking quite peaceful. I think that it had to be terrifying, but from what I have read, many of the passengers lost consciousness right away when they were sucked out of the plane, and never knew what happened.
Tony lost his life at such a young age. He was only 17! Who knows what the future held for him? I expect the residents of Lockerbie will never forget what happened on the day "Death rained down" upon them 20 years ago. I know the family members of all 270 people killed will mourn them forever. The terrorist who put the bomb in the suitcase, transferring it to the flight and now serving life in prison in Scotland, cannot forget. But, I, too, will always remember Tony Thomas and his smile.
Tony was a funny guy. He hadn't been at Hanau very long, not being a traditional military brat like most of my students. The very nature of schools operated by the Department of Defense is one of acceptance and quick inclusion. Students come and go in such schools, based on whatever is necessary involving the troops around the world. So, while Tony was a city boy, with a little air of the urban street still encircling him, he became a member of the school community easily.
I was a computer teacher, and everyone ended up taking my class at some point because it was a requirement for graduation. It wasn't particularly hard, and back then I was a young, well-liked teacher and the students enjoyed being part of my class. Being a teacher in such an environment was different than teaching back in the States. There was a sense of "we are all in this together" from the faculty as well as the student body, and it wasn't unusual for students and teachers to be seen at the same community events, even enjoying each other's company. I loved it and knew I was very fortunate to have the opportunity to experience this kind of life.
Tony would often joke with me as he entered or left the classroom. In 1988, I was planning to come home at Christmas time to Columbus, Ohio to see my family. I had moved to Germany in 1985 to work for the Department of Defense, and never expected to stay more than the agreed upon 2 years of service. However, I really was having the time of my life and wanted to stay as long as I could. I missed my family, however, and my beloved grandmother had died during the previous year, so Christmas with my family had an even stronger sense of poignancy for me.
Tony and I talked about flying back to the US together, since he was going to Detroit and I was going to Columbus. However, I always flew TWA then because of accruing frequent flyer miles. I also was leaving sooner than the 21st in order to be at home as much as possible during my two week vacation. We did joke, however, about how funny it would be to step off the plane in Columbus together. My father, a rural Ohio farmboy, was not terribly open-minded about mixed racial couples. Tony was a fairly dark-skinned black young man, and I was a red-headed white woman. Playing a joke on my father that Tony and I were a couple made me laugh...it wasn't anything I really would have done, but Tony and I discussed a couple of times about the imagined looks we would get, especially if I could hold a wrapped up object like a baby in my arms when coming into the airport.
On Wednesday, December 21st, I had been home for a day or two, and was already in bed at my parents home when the phone rang late at night. My mother answered it, and then called me to the phone. It was an old college friend who heard about the Pan Am crash on the television, and immediately thought of me. I had no idea at the time that anyone I knew was on the plane, although it definitely shook me up. Flying back and forth from Germany to the US was something I did at least once or twice a year, and it never really entered my mind that there could be terrorists involved. The next day I received several more calls, all wondering if I was home safely. I still didn't know about Tony's death.
I went back to Germany to start the school year after the New Year. When I got to school, I heard the news that Tony had been on the plane. I couldn't believe that this 17 year old boy, going home for Christmas after being away from his family, was killed. The school held a memorial service for him, and his brother came to speak to us all. I remember crying in the auditiorium, and students looking at me. His brother said that Tony had been found in a field, not a mark on his body, looking quite peaceful. I think that it had to be terrifying, but from what I have read, many of the passengers lost consciousness right away when they were sucked out of the plane, and never knew what happened.
Tony lost his life at such a young age. He was only 17! Who knows what the future held for him? I expect the residents of Lockerbie will never forget what happened on the day "Death rained down" upon them 20 years ago. I know the family members of all 270 people killed will mourn them forever. The terrorist who put the bomb in the suitcase, transferring it to the flight and now serving life in prison in Scotland, cannot forget. But, I, too, will always remember Tony Thomas and his smile.
