The B-52 crash site in the Maine Highlands

I’ve been putting off writing this post mainly because I’ve struggled to put into words what visiting the site was like—it was nothing like what G and I expected. I was expecting a memorial, perhaps a piece of the fuselage, but nothing prepared me for the wide area strewn with pieces of the airplane. Metal lodged into trees, the outline of a window, markings and rivets on large, somewhat-intact pieces. We were certainly standing on sacred ground, where 7 United States airmen lost their lives on a winter’s day in 1963.