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Only dedication can explain being up at that hour on that field. In 1999, the love of Aggie Bonfire fueled those working on the unfinished 59-foot stack of logs symbolizing the school's "burning desire" to beat the Longhorns.
The desire to remember them -- the tradition's victims -- drove nearly 5,000 people to gather in the morning's darkness Wednesday for a candle-lighting ceremony.
"As a parent, you never want your child to be forgotten," said Judi Hedstrom, mother of Jeremy Frampton, one of the 12 who died when the bonfire stack collapsed early Nov. 18, 1999. "You want to know that their legacy lives on."
A round metal marker rests where the center pole, the wedding-cake-shaped structure's spine that shot 60 feet or more into the sky, once met the muddy earth. Aggies placed red roses, loose change and a 12th Man towel on it. One left a ribbon pinned to an unsigned sticky note that said, "I wore this ribbon in 1999 for months -- perhaps longer? I thought of you often and thank God for your love of Texas A&M. Gig 'em!"
Another placed an Aggie Ring from the Class of 2002. The name on it was Lauren N.T. Scanlan, one of the 27 injured.
Two hours before the 2:42 a.m. event, three Texas A&M students with the Traditions Council -- John Roddy Pace, Steven McPherson and Michael Espericueta -- set up chairs by making several trips of more than 300 steps each down history walk, a gravel path that memorializes past bonfires that burned on campus. The walkway ends at the memorial for the 12.
It was Pace's involvement with Silver Taps, another Texas A&M tradition that honors Aggies who have passed away the month before, that convinced him of the value of letting families know their loved ones are remembered.
"When they can just see the vast numbers of Aggies that come out to spend 45 minutes to honor their child, it's special," he said.
The Aggie Spirit shined brightly earlier this week as well after a shipment of drip guards for the candles didn't come through. A few dozen Aggies bought several thousand three-ounce paper cups, poked holes in the bottoms and slipped the candles through to create makeshift wax catchers.
"Some things don't turn out the way you wanted them to, but you do the best you can," said Jordan Kana, who is with the Traditions Council and took part in the paper-cup effort.
The thousands drifted from all directions toward the symbolism-rich memorial that rests on the collapse site, as Aggies have every year since 1999. Twelve "portals" -- each facing that Aggie's hometown -- lie in a circle, inscribed with memories and a bronze likeness.
Grassy berms seclude the $5 million monument from nearby roads and parking lots. On those mounds, the sea of flames danced, each a manifestation of the Aggie spirit as strong as the raging inferno that crackled more than a decade ago.
They encircled the memorial, their carriers standing at a respectful distance in respect for the cluster gathered in 48 neatly placed white chairs around the center pole marker. The crowd of mostly current students knew those inside the circle had lost more than a campus tradition.
Moments before 2:42 a.m., Janice Kerlee, mother of Tim Kerlee Jr., belted to the crowd, "Come on in, Ags!" They gently shuffled from the gravel walkway and the berms and through one of the 12 portals, tightly packing the 170-foot diameter spirit ring and enveloping the families as they shared memories of their loved ones.
Kerlee read each name: Miranda Adams, Christopher Breen, Michael Ebanks, Jeremy Frampton, Jamie Lynn Hand, Christopher Heard, Lucas Kimmel, Bryan McClain, Chad Powell, Jerry Don Self, Nathan Scott West, Tim Kerlee Jr.
The crowd replied "here" after each name was called, similar to the university's Muster remembrance ceremony.
Afterward, Kerlee said she was touched that students who didn't know her son or the 11 others would come out at such an hour to show support and love for them. The weather was decent, and turnout, 10 years later, better than some past anniversaries, she said.
"It was just wonderful," Kerlee said. "The only thing bad ... is that it's hard to hug when you're holding candles."
