Inter Lake co-workers live on in our hearts

Our hearts are heavy and hurting here at the Inter Lake as we mourn the loss of our co-workers Erika Hoefer and Melissa Weaver, who died in a plane crash a week ago during a Sunday afternoon sightseeing trip.

We didn’t get the miracle we all were praying and hoping for, but it’s a miracle in itself that a pilot was able to locate the plane on the densely wooded hillside. As painful as news of the deaths of all four on board was, the not knowing was in some ways worse.

As hour after hour ticked by, we knew their chances of survival were slipping away.

Now, there is closure. As Sheriff’s Sgt. Ernie Freebury so aptly put it: “They’re not lost any more.”

In the two long rows of desks that make up the Inter Lake newsroom, I sat near both girls, Melissa to my right and Erika at the desk right across from me. Their desks are the only two in the entire expanse of the newsroom that are decorated with brightly colored vinyl coverings and matching desktop organizers.

That’s because on a recent shopping trip they decided they needed to brighten up their corners of the world in our windowless newsroom.

Their added decor was a literal manifestation of two people whose personalities and talent were bright and colorful all on their own.

The chairs are empty now. A yellow rose lies across each desk in their memory, on top of unfinished story lists and desk calendars with appointments that will be handled by someone else now.

We will miss them deeply, but it’s OK.

They’re at peace, and I’m compelled to share an experience I can only describe as spiritual, a God moment some would say.

At dusk on Tuesday night, I was pulled over on the shoulder of the road a few miles from the visitor center at the National Bison Range. It was a place high enough to get cell-phone coverage so I could call in my story on the search effort under way.

Storm clouds were all around me; I could see three or four isolated storm systems over the vast expanse of rolling range land. As I pulled back onto the road, I looked to my right and saw a rainbow over the Bison Range. An uncanny sense of peace came over me as the clouds roiled around me and rain began pelting the car.

And I knew, or was being divinely told, that those four souls in that plane had left this Earth. Sadness swept over me, but I also felt relief and even joy as the most undescribably magnificent sunset bore down, changing second by second as the storm clouds swirled with the sun piercing through them.

A heavenly tapestry unfolded in the sky before me as I drove toward Ronan.

I was awestruck.

“God, you really are in control of this,” I thought. And as God is my witness (and he was that night), the very moment I had that thought, a display of lightning, again the most magnificent I’d ever seen, was splayed across the night sky as if God was saying, “Yes, I’ve got them in my arms. Go home and tell the story.”

We’ve written a lot about what our two co-workers were like, and it seems cliché to say they lived life to the fullest, but that’s the truth. They soared high on life, taking advantage of every opportunity they were given. The best tribute we can give our girls is to go out and do the same.

Features editor Lynnette Hintze may be reached at 758-4421 or by e-mail at lhintze@dailyinterlake.com