Aliceacc
DIS Legend
- Joined
- Jul 2, 2007
- Messages
- 13,463
Today is the 12th anniversary of the night that Flight 800 went down over Eastern Long Island, enroute to Paris.
One of my students was on that flight, along with her mom. The trip was her graduation present; she had graduated from high school about 3 weeks before. Her dad had flight benefits since he worked for TWA; they flew standby and some of her friends didn't know she had been on the flight until they got the phone calls from friends. Dad had planned to meet them in Paris after a day or two.
The AP at my school eventually identified Dierde's school ring by it's inscription; that's how they were able to ID her. Her mom was ID'ed a few days later and they had a joint funeral, the day that the bombs went off at the Atlanta Olympics.
I always think of Deirdre on the anniversary. She was a quiet kid, but a good soccer player. I'm always thankful that she was pretty bad at math. She came to extra help a lot in her soccer uniform before practice; it was through those extra help sessions that I reallly got to know her, since she rarely volunteered in class.
Shortly after the crash, it became apparent that her dad was in the early stages of Alzheimer's. Perhaps it was a blessing of sorts, since he lost his entire family that evening.
I'm not sure why I'm posting all this, other than to keep Deirdre's memory alive. She would have been 30 now, probably married with kids.
One of my students was on that flight, along with her mom. The trip was her graduation present; she had graduated from high school about 3 weeks before. Her dad had flight benefits since he worked for TWA; they flew standby and some of her friends didn't know she had been on the flight until they got the phone calls from friends. Dad had planned to meet them in Paris after a day or two.
The AP at my school eventually identified Dierde's school ring by it's inscription; that's how they were able to ID her. Her mom was ID'ed a few days later and they had a joint funeral, the day that the bombs went off at the Atlanta Olympics.
I always think of Deirdre on the anniversary. She was a quiet kid, but a good soccer player. I'm always thankful that she was pretty bad at math. She came to extra help a lot in her soccer uniform before practice; it was through those extra help sessions that I reallly got to know her, since she rarely volunteered in class.
Shortly after the crash, it became apparent that her dad was in the early stages of Alzheimer's. Perhaps it was a blessing of sorts, since he lost his entire family that evening.
I'm not sure why I'm posting all this, other than to keep Deirdre's memory alive. She would have been 30 now, probably married with kids.


