Remembering Herb Pate

On January 31, 1990, we lost my cousin Herb Pate in a plane crash in Coral County, Oklahoma. That crash also claimed the lives of the two children of Bill and Suzie Brewster, 16-year-old daughter Kecia, and 13-year-old Kent. The accident happened as the plane returned from a tour of the Third Congressional District, where Mr. Brewster was announcing his candidacy for Congress.

He was born on December 12, 1957, and was 32 years old when he died.

Herb was my idol growing up. I would be like his shadow when visiting our family in Madill, Oklahoma. He and another cousin, Tim, cruised around Madill in an old black hearse, and I always thought that made them the coolest guys I knew.

When he bought his own home in Madill, I would stay with him when I would visit. He gave me my first beer when I was around eight years old, and we spent the hot Oklahoma evenings swimming in his pool with Toby, his large English Sheepdog.

My favorite story of Herb is from January of 1976. Oklahoma was playing Michigan in the Orange Bowl, and we lived in Miami, Florida, the site of the game played on the night of January 1 every year.

Herb called my dad, and he had a ticket but no place to stay. My dad told Herb he could stay with us IF he brought my father a case of Coors beer. Those of you who have ever watched “Smokey and the Bandit” know that at the time, transporting Coors east of the Mississippi River was bootlegging and against the law.

Herb packed one suitcase with his clothes in it, and the second suitcase had a case of beer along with a few clothes he used to “pack” the beer.

Both suitcases had arrived when we picked up Herb at the Miami airport. When he picked up the suitcase with the Coors in it, beer flowed from the edges of the suitcase. Clearly, the Coors cans had exploded under the pressure in the belly of the plane.

According to my father, the good news was that not every can exploded. When we got home, they did the laundry while drinking the remaining cans that had not exploded.

Herb was born and raised in Madill, about 90 miles north of Dallas and close to the shores of Lake Texoma. He was the third generation of the family to publish the Madill Record. He was groomed for the job as he began selling newspapers at age five long before being named publisher in 1987.

On the day of the funeral, there was not an empty seat. Governor George Nigh and his wife, Donna, were in attendance at Madill United Methodist Church, along with family, friends, state officials, and newspaper people from around the state of Oklahoma.

It was a Wednesday, and the Rev. Verlyn Snell spoke about Herb’s life and the suffering caused by his death.

“Suffering is part of the human condition. We accept it even when we can’t explain it. This airplane accident has more than just toughed us with sadness. During the past several days, we have been consumed by this accident. Herb had that kind of drive in his civic involvement, his professional advancement, in politics to better his fellow human beings and in educating our students,” Snell said to those in attendance.

I always take a few minutes each year on the morning of January 31 to think about the many great memories we had with him.

The pain of his loss and the manner has never left me. I can tell you I shed a few tears every year on this date when I see it on my cell phone. Time heals all wounds? Nope. It does make it easier to know God touched his face on that fateful date.