The Lockerbie bombing of Pan Am Flight 103 on December 21, 1988, remains one of the most devastating acts of terrorism in history, claiming the lives of 270 people, including 190 Americans. The tragedy sent shockwaves around the world, leaving countless families shattered and forever changed. Among those affected was Suse Lowenstein, an artist whose life was profoundly altered by the loss of her 21-year-old son, Alexander, a Syracuse University student who was aboard the ill-fated flight. The bombing occurred just four days before Christmas, adding an unbearable layer of anguish to the already unimaginable grief. For Suse, the phone call that delivered the news of Alexander’s death marked the beginning of a lifelong journey of coping with loss, one she would navigate through her art and her unwavering determination to honor her son’s memory.
For Suse Lowenstein, the pain of losing Alexander never faded. Instead, it became a defining part of her life, shaping her art and her very being. As an artist, she channeled her grief into creating a monumental sculptural installation titled Dark Elegy. This powerful work captures the raw emotions of 76 women, including herself, who lost loved ones in the Lockerbie bombing. Each sculpture portrays the exact moment these women learned of their loss, freezing their expressions of pain, grief, and rage in time. Suse explains that the moment of hearing such devastating news is seared into one’s memory, including the physical posture and the overwhelming emotions. For her, creating Dark Elegy was not just an artistic endeavor but a way to process her grief and keep Alexander’s memory alive. “When your child is murdered, that grieving process never ends,” she says. “I made it part of who I am and part of me. It’s inside of me. I live with it. I go with it. I make it mine.” The installation, now displayed in her garden in Montauk, New York, stands as a testament to the enduring impact of the tragedy and the resilience of those left behind.
Alexander Lowenstein was more than just a victim of terrorism; he was a bright, adventurous young man with a love for the ocean and a zest for life. A junior at Syracuse University, he had spent the fall semester in London, where he immersed himself in the city’s culture and even squeezed in a trip to Stonehenge. Just two weeks before his death, Suse had visited him in London, a trip she felt compelled to make despite having no clear reason at the time. Looking back, she believes it was a profound intuition, a chance to spend one last, precious week with her son. Alexander’s death left his family reeling, particularly his younger brother, Lucas, who struggled with survivor’s guilt and the loss of his closest sibling. The brothers had been typical siblings, occasionally at odds, but their bond was deep. Lucas recalls their last exchange, filled with petty anger, and the regret of not having the chance to make amends. The loss of Alexander reshaped every aspect of their lives, leaving a void that could never be filled.
The aftermath of the bombing was a grim and painstaking process for the victims’ families. For Suse, the uncertainty surrounding Alexander’s final moments haunted her. SheBackdrop of debris scattered across 845 square miles, investigators worked tirelessly to piece together the events of that fateful night. The bomb, hidden in a cassette recorder and placed in an unaccompanied suitcase, was traced back to Libya, leading to the conviction of one Libyan intelligence operative. However, questions about the full extent of the perpetrators’ involvement persists. Some victims’ families, including the Lowensteins, continue to seek justice, even decades later. The FBI and Scottish authorities have pursued leads across 16 countries, and as recently as 2022, new suspects were identified. For the families, the pursuit of justice is a bittersweet reminder that the tragedy is far from resolved. As FBI Director Christopher Wray stated, “The FBI and our partners … have never forgotten the Americans harmed, and we will never rest until those responsible are brought to justice.”
For Suse Lowenstein, the return of Alexander’s personal belongings, though wrenching, provided a fragile sense of closure. Among the items recovered was his bright red jacket, now worn and torn, which she still keeps in her studio. Other mementos, such as his British rail pass, diary, and photographs, offered glimpses into his final days and became cherished family heirlooms. Alexander’s diary, in particular, was a poignant window into his thoughts and feelings, capturing his excitement about life and his budding crush on a “beautiful blonde California woman.” These personal artifacts, though heartbreaking, have become a way for the Lowensteins to hold onto Alexander’s memory. They have since donated many of these items to Syracuse University, ensuring that his legacy lives on for future generations.
Thirty-five years after the bombing, the Lowenstein family continues to honor Alexander’s memory in ways that celebrate his life and spirit. They gather annually on his birthday, February 25, to share stories and reflect on the joy he brought into their lives. Alexander’s tombstone in East Hampton, New York, bears the inscription, “You were always the sunshine,” a testament to the warmth and light he brought to those who loved him. For Suse, her art remains a vital connection to her son and a way to process the grief that still lingers. Dark Elegy, with its powerful depiction of sorrow and resilience, serves as both a personal tribute and a universal symbol of loss and healing. As she walks through her garden, surrounded by the sculptures, she wears Alexander’s red jacket, a reminder of the enduring bond they share. The Lockerbie bombing may have taken Alexander’s life, but it could never extinguish the love and light he embodied. For Suse, Lucas, and countless others affected by the tragedy, the journey of grief is ongoing, but so is the journey of remembrance and hope.
