For decades, Lockerbie bombing families wanted attackers to face US justice. They're still waiting

MONTAUK, N.Y. (AP) — The monumental collection of 76 statues in Suse Lowenstein’s backyard captures the moment she and other women learned their loved ones were killed when Pan Am Flight 103 was blown out of the sky over Lockerbie, Scotland, in 1988.

Each nude, life-size creation represents a mother, wife, sister or other female relative in her darkest grief -- weeping, praying, screaming, collapsing.

“The grief, everything, stays the same, just like this. This is always here,” the 82-year-old artist said, walking through the rust-hued monuments in the New York beach town of Montauk recently. “And so, the feelings don’t go away.”

Lowenstein, whose son, Alex, was aboard Flight 103, is among many who have waited nearly four decades to see the culprits of the bombing — one of the deadliest terrorist attacks against U.S. citizens — face justice in a U.S. courtroom. Now, they'll have to keep waiting.

The terrorism trial of the alleged bombmaker , Abu Agila Mohammad Mas’ud Kheir Al-Marimi, was set to begin Wednesday in Washington, D.C., but was postponed Monday. A judge cited the discovery of new evidence, though she didn't say what that evidence was.

Al-Marimi, a former Libyan intelligence officer who had been imprisoned in Libya for years, is the first to be prosecuted on American soil in connection with the attack on the New York-bound flight, which killed 270 people, a majority of them Americans. Eleven of the dead were on the ground in Lockerbie.

The case had a breakthrough in 2017, when U.S. officials obtained a 2012 interview in which they say that Al-Marimi admitted building the bomb and working with two conspirators to carry out the attack. According to an FBI affidavit , he said the operation was ordered by Libyan intelligence and that the late Libyan leader Moammar Gadhafi thanked the team afterward.

Aphrodite Tsairis, whose daughter, Alexia, perished on Flight 103, had planned to travel to Washington for the start of the trial, along with other family members of victims. She said the delay wasn't surprising.

“From the very beginning, we had to fight adversity,” the 83-year-old central New Jersey resident said Tuesday. "So it is not surprising to hear there are more impediments to justice being carried out.”

Tsairis said the court proceeding was more of “an academic exercise” than an emotional journey, at this stage in her life. She and other family members of victims had attended the 2000 trial in the Netherlands, which resulted in the conviction of one of Al-Marimi's alleged accomplices and the acquittal of another.

“This isn’t about closure,” Tsairis said. “This is more about putting the period at the end of the sentence kind of thing.”

She said she's found solace over the years working with her husband on The Alexia , a grant program supporting documentary photographers and filmmakers at Syracuse University. Their 20-year-old daughter, who had dreams of becoming a documentary photographer, was among the 35 Syracuse students returning from a semester abroad on the ill-fated flight.

“It’s been our survival,” Tsairis says of the grant program and its recipients. “Through them, I know what Alexia would have become.”

Bert Ammerman, who lost his 36-year-old brother, Thomas, in the bombing, doesn't believe the trial, whenever it happens, should be the end of the story.

The retired school teacher and administrator from New Jersey says he believes other nations were involved and should still be held responsible, even though the Libyan government formally accepted responsibility in 2003 and agreed to pay nearly $3 billion to victims’ families.

“This does not belong in the criminal arena,” said Ammerman, who was founding president of Victims of Pan Am Flight 103 , an advocacy group formed by families in the wake of the bombing. “This was an attack on the U.S. This was an act of war.”

Stephanie Bernstein, who lost her husband, Michael, in the attack, said it’s “astonishing” that evidence apparently not known by either side in the case would emerge all these decades later and on the eve of the trial.

“It shows that there is still information out there, so that makes the delay somewhat less difficult to accept,” said the 75-year-old Maryland resident, who is currently vice president of the victims’ advocacy group. “We are hopeful that it will increase our knowledge of what happened.”

Suse Lowenstein’s son, Lucas, hopes whatever new information emerges can finally put to bed any lingering theories.

“You can really go down a rabbit hole in wondering, ‘What did we miss? Is there more?’” he said. “At this point, I feel that they got the right people. I don’t believe there’s more to it.”

The 57-year-old northern New Jersey resident says his approach to life fundamentally changed when he lost his brother. The two had been students together at Syracuse University, just one year apart.

His father, Peter, who had been among the many grieving family members who thrust themselves into a lifetime of seeking justice and airline security reforms, died in 2018.

“My parents more or less died that day,” said Lucas Lowenstein, who named his son in honor of his late brother. “So I knew then -- and know now — that I have to outlive them. I got to be there for them.”

Out in Montauk, some 100 miles (160 kilometers) east of Manhattan, Suse Lowenstein has tried to stay out of the twists and turns of the criminal case. Instead, she finds peace among the constant reminders of what was lost on Dec. 21, 1988.

Her son Alex's bright red jacket rests on a hook by the door of her art studio. Slightly singed and torn, the coat was recovered amid the mangled wreckage and carefully cleaned by residents of Lockerbie, like so many other possessions returned to grieving families. Lowenstein says she dons it whenever she does welding work.

On a wall nearby, a large framed photo captures the surf-loving Alex standing joyfully on a bluff high above the crashing waves, arms outstretched, his hair blowing in the breeze.

Outside, two white statues depicting Alex and Lucas as young boys sit side-by-side at the edge of a swimming pool, their feet dipping in the clear water.

And in a shaded corner of the yard stands “Dark Elegy,” Lowenstein’s life’s work. The sculptor represented herself in two of the statues — one curled up in pain and another standing in front of it, arms outstretched.

“First, I created myself in the position that my body took when the phone call came,” she explained. “Then I created myself again, basically holding myself up and staying alive.”

Lowenstein says she shares the frustration at the latest delay but is confident Al-Marimi will ultimately be found guilty. She prays the elderly defendant lives long enough to meet his fate.

“I hope they convict him and put him into the worst prison that the Americans have,” Lowenstein said.

Follow Philip Marcelo at https://x.com/philmarcelo