Our thoughts are with the families of those lost on Malaysia Airlines MH17 today.
Thoughts: July 19.
Many of the images from the tragic downing of MH17 bear a disconcerting similarity to those of Pan Am 103 from so many years ago. Once again, an airliner disintegrated in midair; once again, hundreds of innocents became victims of international conflict. The initial reports indicate that MH17 was an “accidental” casualty of that conflict, a fact that will do nothing to ameliorate the sorrow of the hundreds grieving for lost relatives and friends.
Karen Hunt, the subject of this online memorial, shared a number of commonalities with me. One of the most striking and relevant in the context of the most recent tragedy was a fascination with journalism and the mass media. Karen dreamed of becoming a magazine writer, and though my ambitions had shifted away from the Fourth Estate in the fall of 1988, I took several classes in newspaper writing and politics and the media around that time. I’ve taught classes on feature writing, and I continue to observe the media with a mixture of fascination and horror. This is particularly true with the coverage of MH17, and it is that coverage that I’d like to briefly discuss.
The transformation of media technology over the past 25 years has been remarkable. Journalists covering the tragedy in Lockerbie arrived in Scotland armed with the most advanced equipment ever deployed at a major disaster site. Reporters had access to computers, modems, wire services, cell phones, and satellite uplinks. The almost instantaneous coverage of the crash site, airports, and Syracuse University was unprecedented, as were the ethical concerns raised by the conduct of a number of reporters on December 21, 1988 and the ensuing days.
Sophisticated as the technology was for the times, reporters, particularly photographers, faced serious technological and logistical difficulties. Film cameras were limited both by the need to develop negatives and by the difficulty in distributing images overseas. It could take the better part of an hour merely to transmit a single color still image using the computer technology of the day—and that was with access to a clean phone line.
Pan Am 103 crashed shortly after 7 in the evening on the shortest day of the year. Darkness, confusion, and the quick and well-organized deployment of police, soldiers, and officials limited access to some of the worst of the crash sites. Newspapers and television outlets showed a few images of victims. One British tabloid showed victims lying near the impact craters left by their bodies; the paper was roundly criticized for publishing the image. Likewise, the photographs of a young woman on a damaged roof at the Rosebank Crescent crash site (Park Place) were also widely distributed to much criticism. Scottish efficiency, coupled with difficulty of disseminating still photographs through print sources, largely spared us from the worst scenes from Lockerbie. As I’ve developed a sense of connection to a number of the victims, I’m grateful for this fact.
With the advent of the internet, social media, cell phones, high speed networks, and digital cameras, coverage of a catastrophe can now take place at a breakneck pace, as has happened in part with MH17. Graphic photographs of wreckage and victims appear on Twitter and other sources within hours of the crash. The ineptitude and mendacity of local officials allowed some journalists and locals to wander the crash site with impunity, while investigators and western journalists were often turned away by intoxicated irregulars. While the people of Lockerbie treated the victims of Pan Am 103 with a respect bordering on reverence, victims of MH17 are being subjected to a variety of indignities—one of the most egregious of which is the instant distribution of unedited photos.
For those who come to this site seeking images of victims from the Lockerbie bombing, I ask that you look at the photograph of the young woman at the end of this post. She was one of those killed aboard Pan Am 103, but her life and legacy extended and continues to extend far beyond the night of December 21, 1988. She boarded the fateful flight with the anticipation of returning home to her parents, sister, boyfriend, and friends. She was a gentle, sensitive individual who was robbed of her life days shy of her 21st birthday. She was one of 270 people lost on that bleak night.
Each of them had a story. Each of them was far more than a victim. Each of them deserves to be respected.
If you seek photos of the dead of Malaysia Airlines MH17, I ask that you pause and consider the humanity, the narratives, and the potential of those lost in the disaster. Each of them had a story. Each of them was far more than a victim. Each of them deserves to be respected.
They were children, parents, sons, daughters, husbands, wives, friends, and lovers. People loved them dearly. People love them still. I won’t criticize your curiosity, but I ask that you see them as individuals not unlike yourself.
And I ask that you mourn them.
