Memorial of Flight 621

I cannot begin to fathom how the loss of close family members in a tragic air crash would affect me.

How would my life change and how would I cope with the feelings of loss and grief not only in the immediate aftermath of the tragedy, but over the years.

This weekend I met some family members struggling after 40 years to deal with such a loss. On July 5 1970, Air Canada Flight 621 crashed into a farmer’s field in what is now Brampton. All 109 passengers and crew lost their lives. Sunday morning more than 100 family members from Montreal, Toronto and Los Angeles gathered at the crash site for a 40th anniversary remembrance event. It was the first time most of them had visited the ground where their loved ones perished.

My public relations company has been working with the landowners and developers in the area for the past two years, to work with the families and create an appropriate and respectful memorial garden on the site. Sunday’s event was the first many of the families knew about the plans and they were most appreciative. The media coverage we obtained for the developers was positive.

But I still reflect on the words and experiences many of the families shared. One man lost his flight attendant bride of 33 days. A Montreal woman lost her father. Another woman lost her mother and two young sisters. A woman lost an uncle, who happened to be the First Officer on Flight 621 and whom most investigators blamed for the tragedy; for pilot error when he deployed the spoilers too soon. She remained silent in the background, certainly aware of the raw emotions being shared and perhaps even carrying feelings of guilt for the uncle’s role in the disaster.

The remembrance event even brought some of my own life and career in full circle. On July 5 1970 I was a rookie reporter with the Toronto Star and helped cover that accident. I even earned the munificent sum of $50 for freelancing the coverage to the Los Angeles Times because so many Californians were on that Montreal-Los Angeles flight.

Each of us reacts to life-changing stresses and losses in different ways. For me, my deep and abiding faith is something I would certainly cling to. The pain and grief would be incalculable, I am sure, but I believe I would still be able to agree with the Apostle Paul when he said, “I know whom I have believed.”

Sharing Sunday morning with those families again brought home the inconsistencies and insecurities of life. It was a privilege to have shared that time with them.