‘Everybody Knew Somebody on That Plane’ : Truth Hard for N.Y. Students to Accept

One of the last things Steve Boland did Wednesday before boarding Pan Am Flight 103 was place a telephone call from Heathrow Airport to his fraternity brothers at the Delta Tau Delta house here, just to let them know how happy he was to be returning after a semester’s absence on Syracuse University’s foreign studies program.

The Delts were looking forward to the reunion next semester with equal enthusiasm. Boland, a 20-year-old junior from Nashua, N.H., was so well liked among his fraternity brothers that they had only 10 days earlier elected him vice president on a unanimous vote, even though he had not been around to campaign for the office.

But Stephen Boland will not be returning to Syracuse University after the Christmas break--nor will at least 35 other students affiliated with the school’s international studies program who died when the plane crashed in the Scottish village of Lockerbie.

On Thursday afternoon, a handful of fraternity members stared numbly at the television set that blared in the messy living room of the Delt house.

Boland’s fraternity had heard news of the crash only a few hours after they last spoke to him. They spent the rest of the day making frantic calls to the airline and the State Department, but it was not until they heard from Boland’s girlfriend that they learned that he had indeed been aboard the jet and that there had been no survivors.

Even the next day, some could not accept the truth. “There’s kind of a disbelief there that maybe this didn’t happen,” said Michael Gregory, who was to have been Boland’s roommate next semester. “We’re just waiting for him to come through the door.”

Thursday was the last day of final exams, and most of the university’s 16,000 students had already gone home for the holiday break.

Still, the signs of Syracuse’s grief were everywhere--from the flags that hung at half staff to the arrangement of flowers in the Student Center that bore a card “in memory of our students lost in the December 21 tragedy.” At the Alpha Tau Omega house--which, like the Delts, had lost a brother--a large black bow hung eerily amid festive Christmas decorations.

While many students attended their exams, professors had been instructed to allow postponements to those who wished them. Campus religious organizations set up counseling services to help students deal with their grief. There had been a series of memorial services at Hendricks Chapel.

The Delts attended a university service Wednesday night as a group, then reconvened at the house to hold their own tribute to Boland, so they could share their memories of him.

Some students and faculty avoided the official services, choosing instead to take a few quiet moments at the chapel. Throughout the day, they trailed in singly or in pairs, their red-rimmed eyes expressing shock and sadness.

“I live in a dormitory, and it seems that everybody knew somebody on that plane,” said Ben Donovan, 19.