A loss beyond our understanding

The loss of two young reporters in a plane crash last Sunday leaves everyone in the Daily Inter Lake family profoundly saddened.

We are reminded once again of how much we have to be thankful for, and how quickly we can lose it all. Our thoughts go out to their families and friends, and those of the other two victims.

Each of us at the Inter Lake experienced shock at hearing that 23-year-old Melissa Weaver and 27-year-old Erika Hoefer never returned from a sightseeing flight they took with friends.

In my case, there was also an overwhelming sense of helplessness. Because I was on vacation for the last week with my family, I could only watch from afar like everyone else, waiting for news of the search and praying for a miracle.

Then, Wednesday all our hopes were dashed as we received word that the plane had been found, crashed on a remote hillside in Sanders County, and that there were no survivors.

How I wish the ending could have been different. In my mind, I’ve gone back to the past a hundred times and tried to change the outcome somehow. If only I had not hired one or both of them so that they would never have met... If only we had scheduled Melissa to work a Sunday shift that last weekend... If only Erika had gone home to Beloit for a vacation because she was homesick... If only... If only...

But all along, I knew there was only one likely outcome, and that I had no power to change it.

And so I waited like everyone else for the news. I kept in touch with the newsroom through occasional phone conversations with assistant managing editor Scott Crandell, who was coordinating what may well have been the saddest work week in the 120-year history of our newspaper.

I felt guilty about not being there with him and the rest of the staff, but I knew I also had an obligation to my family to not let our cherished vacation time be overwhelmed by tragedy. My wife is 36 weeks pregnant, and due to complications that could put either her or the baby in jeopardy, I did not want to be far from her side. Nor did I want my two children to lose the precious laughter and memories that each family vacation seems to generate.

So I made the difficult decision to remain away from the newsroom. Clearly the staff I had put in place over the past 10 years as managing editor proved once again how able and talented they are. Despite tears and emotions, they put out the newspaper day after day, covering not just the tragedy of our missing colleagues and their two companions but also the many mundane stories that no longer seemed important but still had to be reported. Like many of our readers, I kept abreast of the news about Erika and Melissa by frequently checking the Inter Lake’s website for updates on the search.

And with so little to keep me occupied for the past week, my thoughts time and time again went back to these two young women whose presence in our newsroom for the past half year has been a breath of fresh air.

Melissa arrived first, in early December, and despite her youth and soft features, she was able to attack the police beat of a daily newspaper with the grit and determination that it requires to be successful. She has been on top of dozens of hard news stories and never showed any quit. From that first week, Melissa has also been ready to help in any way, to throw herself into any task that needed to be done, and to do it well.

Erika arrived about two weeks later, and we promptly informed Melissa that she was now a “senior reporter.” Erika, however, never quite fit the mold of a junior reporter. She had plenty of experience for someone so young, was conscientious and thoughtful, and struggled to get everything just right. She also had to juggle her tasks as business reporter for the Inter Lake and Flathead Business Journal with working two nights a week as page design editor, and did it without complaint.

Erika had come to us from Chicago, and we had promised her that in exchange for the glamor and shopping of the big city, we would give her the grandeur of God’s country. She was intrigued and took our offer, and then suffered through the usual drudgery of a Flathead winter and the longest, bleakest, coldest spring in recent memory. We kept promising her that summer was just around the corner, and she kept asking us “Which corner?”

Of course, Erika and Melissa had been drawn to each other, and even though Melissa was a few years younger, as a native Montanan she had taken Erika under her wing to help her learn the ropes and enjoy the Western lifestyle. More and more, they became inseparable. Along with several other young staff members, they had begun to enjoy the pleasures of living in Northwest Montana, and they brightened the newsroom with their smiles and giggles. The adjectives sweet, delightful, vivacious, thoughtful and fun-loving could be used about both of them.

Melissa was a natural born leader, and nothing seemed out of her reach. In the past couple of weeks, she had helped the newspaper navigate the transition of the police dispatch duties to the new countywide 911 Center. The first few days, we were getting very little information for our daily law-enforcement roundup. I asked Melissa if she needed me to make some phone calls to let the authorities know of our problem, but she said she would take care of it herself. And she did.

In the past few weeks, too, Erika had started to blossom — perhaps partly in response to the fact that the clouds had finally lifted, and summer had truly begun. She was confident, contented and in control.

Scott and I started to think that our young staff had jelled in a way that was healthy, and promising for the future of the newspaper. When someone called to ask if there were any openings in the newsroom, I reported back with certainty that there were not likely to be any positions open in the foreseeable future.

You can imagine my surprise then, when just a few days before her disappearance, the day before my vacation began, Melissa had stepped into my office and somewhat guiltily told me that she was giving notice that she was quitting her job to return to school.

Of course, that’s the last thing a boss wants to hear, especially when the employee has as much promise as Melissa did, but she was so apologetic that it was impossible for me to be mad at her, or even disappointed.

We had always thought she might leave in a year or two to go to law school, and I thought that might be her plan, but she told me, no, that her time covering cops and courts had convinced her that she wasn’t meant to be a lawyer.

Instead she wanted to return to college and get a master’s degree in psychology, which had been her dual major along with journalism at the University of Montana.

“Whenever I’m at the courthouse covering a trial, and I see someone who is the sister or the mother crying in the restroom, I just want to go over and give them a hug and tell them it’s going to be all right,” Melissa told me.

My eyebrows probably went up as I had a picture of my reporter taking sides in a court case, but Melissa rushed to reassure me. “Of course I can’t do that now because you just can’t do that when you’re a reporter. That’s why I know I’m supposed to do something else.”

She told me how sorry she was to leave us, and how much she had enjoyed her time at the Inter Lake. “It’s really a great place to work,” she said, “and I’m really gonna miss it.”

I told her not to worry about it, that we were going to miss her, too, but that sometimes opportunities come in life that you just have to follow.

Then our conversation had turned to Erika.

I asked her if Erika would be able to make it at the Inter Lake without her. The two by now were the best of friends, laughing at the slightest provocation, sharing adventures and shopping excursions, and leaning on each other when times were tough.

Melissa confessed that she, too, was worried about Erika.

“I’m not sure what’s going to happen to her either. I promised her I will come visit every couple of weekends, and I’m going to have a room for her to stay in Missoula whenever she can get away.”

Clearly these two friends would find a way to stay close no matter how far away they wandered. I never got a chance to talk to Melissa again after that, nor to Erika. I was busy the rest of the day getting ready for vacation, then rushed out the door late in the evening to return to my family. I think Erika was working late too, trying to complete a story before deadline. Melissa was already long gone.

None of us knew what fate had in store, just as we never know. But I can imagine Melissa talking Erika into taking the risk of going on a sightseeing flight, and Erika finally agreeing despite her somewhat more cautious nature because, what the hell, you only live once, and what’s life worth living for if you can’t do something reckless and romantic once in a while.

Although for now sadness and loss dominate our thoughts, we should also honor Erika and Melissa by remembering them for what they were, truly good people who taught us by example.

I’ll see them always this way: Two beautiful young women flying above us, laughing and screaming, thrilled to be alive, riding the ride of their lives — best friends forever.