It’s where my mom learned to water-ski and my dad smoked his first cigarette.

I remember it as the place my grandpa went fishing.

But the world will remember this sleepy little town much differently.

It will be remembered for the hole, burrowed more than 30 feet wide and 10 feet deep.

It will be remembered for the wreckage lifted out of the ground by a crane.

Mina, S.D., will be remembered as the place where a probably unpiloted ghost plane that had flown 1,500 miles finally landed.

Last Monday, a week ago today, I was sitting in the living room at my house. My roommate was watching Fox News, and there was something about a plane that was supposed to be heading toward Dallas but was mysteriously flying northwest over the Midwest.

The anchors said the plane had lost radio contact somewhere near Gainsville, Fla., and military planes hadn’t been able to make visual contact with anyone inside because the windows were frosted over.

They thought the plane would run out of fuel somewhere near Aberdeen, S.D.

And they heard it was carrying a golf star.

I was supposed to be studying for a test. But instead, I was glued to the television, enthralled by the strange thought of the ghost plane.

Suddenly, the report came that the plane was owned by Payne Stewart.

Then the news came that the plane had landed, about 10 miles west of Aberdeen.

I was yelling at the TV, because the anchors had confused South Dakota and North Dakota, and they couldn’t seem to figure out what county Aberdeen was in.

I know, you see, because I was born in Aberdeen. My grandparents still live on a farm about 10 miles west of Aberdeen.

I panicked, not knowing whether anyone had been hurt on the ground. What if my grandparents’ farm had been the target of the out-of-control Learjet? Was anyone hurt? Why weren’t they saying?

I called my mom at work. She was in her office. I told her what happened, and she called my grandparents. There was no answer at the farm.

Then, the anchors finally said the plane definitely landed near Mina, just across the county line.

I had to leave for my test. And my mom had to get back to work.

We found out later that my grandparents were fine. They were nowhere near the plane when it crashed — they were in town at the doctor’s office.

But for some reason, my mom and I couldn’t get over the accident.

The thought of that plane, carrying golf star Payne Stewart, wouldn’t leave either of our minds.

For the next few days, whenever I saw anything about Payne Stewart, I started to cry. I cried more while watching ESPN than anyone ever should. I was so moved by accounts of Stewart’s life and legacy that I was torn up by his death, even though I never met him.

But my mom was touched by something else. She was so sad about Stewart’s wife, Tracey. She was heartbroken about how Tracey Stewart would forever look at a place where my mother had such fond memories.

There are many places in the world that have been marked by events that just happened to take place there.

Normandy, France; Oklahoma City, Okla.; Lockerbie, Scotland. All were immortalized by events that didn’t have to happen there — but for whatever reason, they did.

Of course the plane crash near Mina did not devastate as many lives as so many other disasters. And probably very few people will remember Mina, S.D.

People will only remember that the crash happened somewhere in South Dakota, and then they will forget where it happened, and eventually they will forget it happened all together.

But Tracey Stewart and the family members of the other five people who were killed in that Learjet will never forget the town of Mina.

Nothing has changed in Mina. It’s still a sleepy country town where kids learn to smoke cigarettes and grandfathers fish.

But relatives of the Learjet victims will never look at Mina, S.D., as a peaceful rural town where my mom learned to water-ski.

They will forever remember it as the place that took their loved ones.

Sara Ziegler is a senior in journalism and mass communication from Sioux Falls, S.D. She is editor in chief of the Daily.