Category Archives: military tributes

The Lady in Red.

01 Sunday Dec 2013

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Last year while training for my first half marathon, I fractured my hip. Yes, I am such an uncoordinated runner that I broke myself merely training. In all honesty, in my mind I am that mime of a sleek gazelle of a woman running with fluid ease, when in truth I am sure I look like a person having a seizure and half expect the on site medical staff to run to my aid confident that I must be in distress  after all, I  look – well- awkward.  But I love to run. I am not good at it. My body giggles.  My feet hurt. And on a day that is cold like today, the screws in my hip ache and my lungs wheeze.

All said- I still love to run. More importantly, I love to think of myself as a runner.

Today- I was running with a purpose; two in fact. As a board member for McHenry County Court Appointed Special Advocates (CASA) I am grateful to Mike Splitt having the brilliant idea to organize a Santa Run for Children charities. Last year, the inaugural year, the race attracted over 770 runners. This year, nearly a 1,000 runners. Not bad for a Sunday afternoon in December.  CASA is one of the organizations that benefit from the funds raised for the privilege of wearing a thin Santa suit and running in the cold.

This year, I was also running for Curtis M. Fike.  Curtis was a Marine. He served three combat deployments in 4 years. He left the Marines and was recalled a year and a half later for his 4th deployment before succumbing to the torment of an undiagnosed TBI and PTSD. He ended his pain and began a new journey for his loved ones on Jan 3, 2012.

He sent his sister a text saying he was sorry. He left a note to his family apologizing for doing something so stupid.  But he could not see his way out of the pain and more importantly- he had lost hope for a normal healthy life.  Curtis went from being a happy, young athlete with a breathtaking smile to a combat veteran who was prone to angry outbursts and road rage. He felt unsupported by the VA personnel who are prone to use pharmaceuticals as their go to tool.  One of the young men I talk with explained the dichotomy this way- the Military knows how to turn you from an individual to part of a unit. They just are not as good at re-individuating that same veteran. I did not know Curtis.  I don’t know his family. I learned who he was on pages of heartfelt tributes and various news articles. He was well loved and loved well.

Keri Jacobs created a community of runners a few years ago- running to raise awareness that veterans are committing suicide at the rate of 22 per day, To raise awareness of this epidemic.

I ran the Santa Run with a picture of Curtis on my back lovingly framed by the words 22 TOO MANY and Never Forgotten.

I saw the looks on people’s faces as they read the placards worn by my 6 friends. Six other veterans lost to suicide.  There are stories for many, many more. You may be asking yourself- so what? You wear some kid you don’t know- people feel sad- nothing changes. This is what changed for me. I now feel I know Curtis. He kept me company for 3.16 miles on my first race post surgery. I was scared and worried I couldn’t finish. I had not been training. In preparing for the race I found I gave up easily. I was afraid. Afraid I would hurt myself. Again.

But how do I not keep going when running with Curtis.  I thought- shit, this is NOTHING compared to back to back deployments.  What am I complaining about?  I spent the afternoon reading about the legacy that Curtis left- people who loved him, people who were touched by him, and the changes to the way that Veterans are treated at the center that was unable to light his way out of the darkness. Curtis’s legacy is now the light for those who follow.  Wearing his image kept me going. So, to me, it made a difference. And each time I tell someone about why I run and for whom, it will make difference.  My father always said- you have to suit up, show up and pick up the rope. We all have our load to bear.  We don’t have to be a superhero to change the world. We just need to be present.  Happy Sunday. Thanks, Curtis for running with me today- my load was much lighter with you with me

If you want to learn more about the mission of 22 Too Many- check out their facebook.  Or to learn about Curtis, follow this link. http://www.springfieldnewssun.com/news/news/local/ohio-seeing-dramatic-increase-of-ptsd-cases-1/nPSfh/

Preparing for Veterans Day

07 Thursday Nov 2013

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I had the blessing of listening to a conversation between two students last night. They are 25 & 26 years old young men who are confident and at ease in their skins albeit quick with the snark and dark humor. They are both dual theater combat veterans. The conversation was casual- fluid and had an ease of two people who share a secret. A Combat Engineer and an Infantrymen,  both men who had to make a choice on their license plate of whether to say Iraq or Afghanistan. They likely chuckled at how few people realize they are not the same war. Casually, laughingly, they banter back and forth about life in a war zone. They compare the differences between the two different wars;  the lessons learned as you acclimated to life in a war zone. They joke about how Fobbits- (those who spent their war on a Forward Operating Base with schedule chow times, hot showers and the internet) -always say, “My job was kinda like the infantry.” The laughter that follows carries an edge. Yeah, its kinda like comparing a Marshmallow to a brick, they’re both rectangles. 
 Their war wasn’t spent on the FOB but outside the wire.
They laughingly talked about how route clearance patrol was the worse duty- miming the bug eyed look out the window as you slowly roll through the streets of Iraq looking for IEDS- having to get out and investigate each “suspicious” pile of garbage in a country filled with suspicious piles of garbage.  “Just shoot it until it blows up. What? That’s what I did.” the Combat Engineer laughs…. until of course the rules changed and you were no longer able to shoot your weapon without being fired upon first.  Someone might get hurt.
“You know, you just get up on it and go in real low,” he says, miming out the deep knee squat with an arm extended, pretending to poke something with a stick, “because you know going in low made all the difference.” He laughs sarcastically. Nothing like being a shrapnel magnet.
“Yeah, those days sucked.” says the Infantryman looking over at me. “We had to wait for those guys. We rolled out behind the engineers, rolling out real slow….talk about being stressed out. Your just waiting for something to happen. Not if, fucking when.  Just staring, up on the glass looking around. … sucked.”
The conversation evolved into explaining to me the various devices invented by soldiers trying to stay alive- things that would jam cell phone signals to stop bomb detonation. “Talk about a pucker. When your rolling down the road and look at that light as it goes from green to yellow. Fuck that.”
Then calmly explaining that meant the jammer was actually doing its job, meaning there was a bomb trying to go off. Or how another device was developed  when the enemies tactics evolved to inflict more damage  by detonating when the cab was over it- improving its ability to be lethal versus just disabling the vehicle. They share a common disdain for those making money off the war and a frustration with the “Support our Veterans” window dressing that comes with the upcoming holiday.
And most important, they share a pride in their service.
They just want people to get it.
Less than 1% of the population raises that hand in oath to defend the Constitution. Think about that for a minute – these young men and women who were willing to raise their hand, leave their homes and fight a fight they didn’t start. I follow the news and recognize a war weary nation. A nation now wondering if Veterans get too many benefits. Wondering if they are rewarded too much for doing their jobs. After all, they weren’t drafted, they volunteered.
To those individuals I say, “Bite me.”
Where was this concern in the beginning?  When the country was in the rabid post 9/11 days wanting vengeance? You wrote the check. Now it is time to cash it.
On this upcoming Veteran’s Day- amidst the furniture and car sales and the household chores you are able to do on your day off- I ask you to remember those who sacrificed for this day. They are no longer only those stoic old men talking about battles long ago. They are young men and women who sacrificed their youth. Gave up the freedom to avoid dangerous situations. The Freedom to say “Are you friggin’ crazy- those people are shooting out there, I don’t want to go.” They sacrificed the giggle of their kids, the warmth of their loved ones arms, the ease of sleeping in, the choice of what to do with their day, the ability to quit their job because it sucks, the right to decide where they want to live, the right to a warrant before search of their home, car or person, the right to protest or talk to the press, the freedom to decide to grow their hair long or decide what to wear to work.
The every day freedoms that we often do not even think about because they are so innate are the same things the military forgoes when they raise their hand and take an oath to defend the Constitution.  And now, they face a country that is afraid of their unseen wounds. A country that can’t see how the skills of staying alive on a battle field convert to the civilian workplace.  Or think it is unfair that you go to school for free.  Free, except that it was paid for by spending time in a desert hoping to come out unscathed. And knowing that is the lie you tell yourself to keep going everyday.
 
One percent.
Thank a vet. Look them in the eye. Speak from your heart and be thankful you have no idea how they feel. Veterans day is the day we celebrate Veterans but we get all the gifts.
 
 

Gold Stars fall from the sky

31 Wednesday Jul 2013

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Some days, I wish I never quit smoking.  It isn’t the cigarette I miss but the catharsis. I remember sitting in the dark, staring at the glow of my cigarette as I exhaled smoke like a dragon. The very act of smoking is designed destruction- your lungs, the cigarette …all of it.

It all seemed very poetic.

Company in my solitude. Something to focus on- breath in, breathe out. The feel of smoke in my lungs, the taste on my tongue, the smell of sulfur from the match wrapped in intense concentration.

Now, I meditate.  It’s cheaper.  And you aren’t relegated to a windy hill.

But, today?  As I stand in the rain along side a dirty Illinois River looking at the monument to those who have lost their lives in the Middle East conflicts-  today, I could really use a smoke.

My brother in law was riding to Sturgis from Maine and asked that we meet him for a leg of the trip.  We just needed to decide where to meet.

In steps the universe. A video about the Middle East Conflict Memorial wall in Marcelles, Il showed up on my Facebook feed.

It is between Fort Wayne and Rock Island. Check.

It is only 96 miles south. Check.

It rained for 50 of them.  Sucked.

Four days ago, I didn’t even know this place existed.  Now I am standing in the rain with an ache in my heart staring at granite panels with thousands of names….. the grief washes over me to see a physical evidence of the cost we have suffered.

How is that even possible?

The monument is on the edge of a corporate parking lot, alongside the Illinois River. The dirty water is as grey as the overcast skies.

There is a disheveled look to the area; broken pavement, dirt and sand strewn about, the remnants of a 100 year flood that ravaged the area recently.

I imagine it looks like a war zone.

The rain adds to the experience as if the skies themselves are weeping.   Why should I be spared the dirt and the destruction they likely died amongst?

I look around taking it all in.

There are tokens left along the wall; military patches and plastic bracelets. Photos with hand written notes sharing details of who their loved ones were.

What made him laugh. Who he loved.

That he is missed.

I see three Bud Lights place in front of the panel containing the names of KIAs from 2011; placed in front of different names; promised beers amongst brothers.

I walk slowly along the panels. I find his name. Micha’s brother. I catch my breath and my eyes fill. I’m caught off guard by the rise of emotions that rock me.  I didn’t even know him, but to see his name on this wall is like a boot to the head.  I hear Micha’s voice describing his brother over coffee. Collier was killed in a mortar attack in Iraq weeks after his 21st birthday. He never bought him that beer. 

There are Desert boots are made into memorials filled with cement, flags and flowers; poignant and powerful. They are almost pretty.

Some one emptied their pocket of change, perhaps for a debt never repaid.

And there in the rain was one lone cigarette.

I need distance from the granite wall. I go towards the building to see the museum.

The museum was started when Illinois Valley Cellular realized that some of the tokens had been stolen or worse thrown into the river.

Who does that?

The museum is being reassembled. Volunteers had removed everything in advance of the rising flood waters.  There is love and tenderness in ever corner of the room, mingled with tears, and pain and loss.  The photos, the tokens, letters, medals are a story that can live on.

These tokens keep their loved ones alive.

The memorial is a privately funded.  It is a collaborative effort of a small community, small business owners and no small amount of commitment.  Every June, there is a Motorcycle run that draws tens of thousand of people to this little town for a ceremony that reads the names of the men and women who died in previous year. Thousands of people come to stand witness.  It took the government 20 years to recognize those lost in Vietnam. It took the government 60 years to recognize the sacrifice of World War II.  This wall honors the sacrifice within 12 months.

It is the only monument of its kind.

I wish there wasn’t a need.

The founders said they made the wall to say thank you for those who made the ultimate sacrifice.

I want to say I’m sorry.

So very, very sorry.  God Bless.

8474235

The loneliest number

22 Monday Jul 2013

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Twenty-two. Everyday. This is the number of veterans we lose a day to suicide. I don’t have the solution- I just wish people knew the problem. We are currently engaged in the longest war in American history. Every morning I wake up and send up a prayer that people are safe, families are made whole and our veterans are seen- truly seen. When was the last time you thought about the war? Saw a news story about Afghanistan?
Less than 1% of the population has served in our all volunteer military. Less than half that number have been forward deployed to a combat zone. That number is too small to raise the same level of outrage that we did about Justin Beiber standing on the Indian Head in Chicago- or Kim & Kanye naming their kid something predictably stupid. I think that veterans struggle because they come home to invisibility. It is just my opinion- Start the conversation, LISTEN to their story. Don’t try to fix- try to see.

 

Marching on.

01 Saturday Jun 2013

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May5, 2103-

– Happy Military Appreciation month!
Today I am going to recognize my brother in law Capt. Tim Johnson. TIm joined the National Guard when he was in college. He was already married to my sister, so unlike me, she became a military wife after they married. Tim started his career as an enlisted soldier and then earned his commission upon completion of his degree- which is a story of its own. Tim is that guy you want on your side- brilliant in that quiet pragmatic & confident way- he is our family’s true Mcgyver. He helped my son with a project for school in 6th grade- they made a Trebuchets – you know that throwing arm thing used by medeval armies. He made Ian figure out the math for the angle, etc. It could launch marshmallows 10 feet. (If left to me, Ian would have had a solar system made of cookies because that is what I could’ve managed!) Potato guns and homemade computers- that is the fun one can expect with Uncle Tim. Tim left his 2 year old son and pregnant wife to serve a tour in Iraq- coming home on leave for the birth of his twins. His decorated tour included being recognized for a business plan to reopen a factory and put Iraqis back to work – ultimately making the streets safer for our troops. He recently returned from a 10 month tour in Afghanistan with the Polish troops where de won the Bronze star for the work he did while deployed. Tim is a hero in every sense of the word. Committed to God, Family and Country – his every choice has demonstrated his devotion. He is a natural servant leader making everyone around him a better person for knowing him. He finds the solution- whether it is a straight path or the work around- to best serve his troops and his mission. I am immensely proud of TIm and honored to have him in my family. Tim is the type of hero the world needs. I am grateful we have him in our family. Tim is active duty National Guard and is a liaison between the regular Army and the guard.

May 6, 2013

Happy Military Appreciation Month! I am recognizing someone related to the military every day in the month of May. Today I am honoring Guy Ando. Guy served with my husband on the USS Kidd.They became best friends. They made it through the long days of deployment playing cribbage. Both from Massachusetts, they shared a love for the Patriots and working on cars. Guy is that guy- funny, smart and loyal to the core. He is part of our family. He lived with us for a couple years, becoming a big brother to our children. He left the Navy and began work as an electrician. Escaping a fateful Hurricane, Guy returned to Andover for the weekend and the rest is history. Guy married Kristen Ando and moved back to Mass. He opened his own successful business. After his children were born, he went to college and is now a teacher. Guy is everything you want in a man- hard working, loving, and committed to what he believes in. He will protect what he loves without hesitation. There is no more loyal friend. Guy served his country and then returned home to continue to serve his country building the minds of the next generation. I appreciate having Guy in my life everyday. I thank you for your service.

May 7, 2013- Happy Military Appreciation Month. I am celebrating by honoring someone in my life who has served the military every day in the month of May.
Today, I am honoring my friend Dick Hattan. Dick served in the US Army in 1969.
He was drafted and sent to Vietnam. He grew up a lot while 9,000 miles away from his family and friends. Dick did a lot of thinking while looking at rice paddies and ultimately came home to pursue a career in healthcare administration. For the next 35 years, Dick worked as a healthcare executive. We met while attending a community based leadership program. My challenge day was on raising awareness around Veterans- who they are, the roles they serve in the community, and the resources available. Recognizing Dick for his service was part of my day. Afterwards, I approached Dick about facilitating a writers group for Veterans with me. Veterans Voices was born. For the past 18 months, Dick and I have facilitated a group of veterans from various branches and eras through the art of storytelling. It has been an incredible journey. Along the way, my friendship and appreciation for him has grown. Last fall, I was fortunate enough to attend a art show that featured some of Dick’s poetry. On May 20th of 2013, I will be privileged to witness Dick receive his Doctorate of Divinity, fulfilling his life long ambition of becoming a religious layperson. It has been an honor to work with Dick. Like many who serve during a time of conflict, he carries both pride and struggle around his service to his country. Through his faith and his writing, he has found both peace and purpose. With his new degree, Dick intends to work with veterans as a Chaplin. Blessed are those who hear the call to serve.

May 8, 2013- Happy military Appreciation month! I am honoring a veteran in my life every day in the month of May. Today, I was to honor Robert ””Bob” Gibson. Bob served in the U.S. Navy serving both in WWII and Korea. He was decorated combat vet earning numerous awards including, the Asiatic Pacific Area Campaign medal, the Good Conduct Medal and the WWII victory medal. When he returned from WWII, he married his beautiful, young bride Dorothy only to be deployed again for Korea. “Her daddy was fit to be tied” he told me with his trademark grin. Never afraid of hard work, Bob walked 4 miles everyday from his home to the VFW to help set the hall up. He was recognized by his post for his life long service. He carried colors every year in the parades in and around Woodstock. It was really hard to complain about the long, hot walk when I would look up to see his 85+ year old smiling face waiting for us to catch up. Bob was one of the happiest men I know; quick with a smile or a pat on the back. He lived by a simple motto- do something useful everyday.
For Bob, his visits to Guantanamo base were filled with beautiful girls and dancing at the Red barn. For Jack, it was chained linked fence and bleachers by a stop light- – it is unrecognizable today.
When my daughter joined the Navy, Bob introduced her to every member present at his VFW- he was so proud of her. My children adored Bob- he was bigger then life in his quiet way. Sadly, Bob passed away on March 9th, 2013 surrounded by loved ones. He was 93 years young. I will never forget his beaming smile and the joy that filled my heart when he would give me a big hug. The world lost a hero that day. We were fortunate to know Bob Gibson and he will live forever in our hearts.

The power of a slow smile

30 Thursday May 2013

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Happy Military Appreciation Month! In honor of the month, I have been writing a tribute to people in my life associated with the military. Today, I would like to honor Sean Hammett. Sean was a member of 11 Bravo- which is infantry. We were discussing how veterans describe their jobs- “They all say, I was like the Infantry- Everyone wants to be like us. Face it- there is CIB (Combat Infantry Badge) and there is everyone else.”

Sean joined the Army right after high school. He is a veteran of the Army, having served from 2004-2008. He deployed twice to Iraq with the 2ndInfantry Division: once in 2004-05 with the 1/503rd INF; and again in 2006-07 with the 1/9th INF.

He turned 19 in Iraq during his first tour.  Sean served two tours in Ramadi, Iraq. His first was to the wild west streets of eastern Ramadi when the funding had not yet caught up to needs of the war.  MRS and rationed water- those were the early and hard days of the war.  His second tour was tough but not as primitive. It was easier to tolerate until he found out his unit was extended 3 months as he prepared for his mid tour leave. But the despite the stop loss that extended his service obligation, the heat, the rustic showers, and time away from loved ones, his second tour was significantly easier than    More importantly- unlike his hard fought first tour during his second tour, his unit had no KIAs.  Talking with Sean about his time in theater leads you down a winding path of slow smiles and obvious affection for his fellow infantrymen. It also paints a vivid picture of the early days of the Iraq war when our troops were poorly equipped, working long hours in horrible conditions for from those they love and despite all of the shit burning, sand gritty MRE eating reality that the soldier does it proudly.   THAT is why Sean will categorize Army units as CIB and all others.

Sean returned to Ft. Carson after his second tour and separated from the service. He returned to Illinois, married and began studying Criminal Justice at MCC.

Sean earned his associates degree and began working as a Peer specialist for the Lake McHenry Veteran Family Service Center in McHenry.  Working with Veterans has helped Sean to process his experiences and help his fellow Veterans.  Sean Lives in Marengo and is a great dad to his three children I am thankful to Sean for his willingness to share his experience. .   I am thankful to Sean for his service. I am deeply thankful to Sean for his willingness to spend nearly 2.5 years in a desert to defend my freedoms.  And still having that slow smile.

 

My brothers keeper

30 Thursday May 2013

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Happy Military Appreciation Month. I am writing a tribute to the members of the military in my life in recognition of the month. Today, I am honoring Micah Barcus. Micah served as a Sniper in the US Army from 1996-2001 and then later joined the Coast Guard to serve four more years as a Helicopter Mechanic. Forever looking for excitement and an adrenaline rush, Micah became a Paramedic. Micah is a force that enters the room before his body. He is a presence. He is an extreme athlete- running races, triathlon and even bicycling from Mchenry to Denver. Whe new met recently for coffee, he casually told me he ran a Xeterra Triathlon the day before. That is a swim in a lake, a mountain bike leg and then a trail run. Clearly not for the faint of heart. He is like the energizer bunny. Micah told me he knew he would join the Army long before he did- he grew up listening to stories from his father’s service in Vietnam and his grandfather’s service in Korea before him. It was the family business. He was assisting with drug operations in the jungles of Columbia before he could drink. Micah career was filled with helicopter crashes, rolled jeeps and late night phone calls calling for him to return to base to go on a mission. Micah left the Army with the intention to return to school. He was back and finding his way when the death of his brother in Iraq led him to hear the call to duty once again. It is difficult to be a sole surviving son- the want to serve your country balance with the need to respect your mother’s wishes. So, he joined the Coast Guard. He Helicopter mechanic, tearing down, inspecting and rebuilding the unit’s helicopters every two weeks. Micah left the Coast Guard and went to MCC to become a paramedic-. Being a first responder is natural for Micah; he is efficient, and capable- keeping a cool head in the time of crisis. Wanting more for his family, Micah is studying to become an ER nurse.
Micah is the heart bursting proud father of a 4 year old son. Micah is helping me on a project about the reintegration process for returning veterans. He has found the answer to how to continue to serve his country and respect the wants of his mother and father. I thank you Micah for all you have done, and all you continue to do.

The best birthday gift ever

20 Monday May 2013

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Happy Military Appreciation month. I have decided to recognize a member of the military everyday in the month of May. Today, I have decided to recognize the first Captain I had any experience with.   A.J. Krekich. Was the Commanding officer of the USS Belknap in 1986 when I married into the Navy. The ship was stationed in Gaeta Italy and while it didn’t deploy in the truest sense of the word, it was away from port more than 80% of the time. The Belknap, was an experiment of sorts- after being involved in a collision with the USS Kennedy ( a carrier) that left 7 people dead and the ship in ruins, the navy rebuilt the ship in 1980 as the “fighting Flagship.” It was the only combat ship to also serve as a Fleet command ship.  None of this meant much to me at the time.   So, A.J. was the Captain of a ship that carried an Admiral- no pressure.

My biggest memory of A.J. was actually due to his wife. The challenge with Gaeta, Italy being our home port was that the Pier was under repair for the first year while we were there, meaning it could not power down and operate on shore power. Instead, the ship was “steaming” all the time. Which meant as an Engineer, my husband worked 16 hour days, pulled three section duty while others had 5 and 6 section duty. It was horrible- some of the engineering crew was on “Port and Starboard “  duty- one day on, one day off. Not off work, but were able to go home.  They still worked 6 days a week. It made for a very hard life for a young marriage, gone a lot, and when in port, you were on duty. Lots of our meals were spent on the ship together.

Jack and I were expecting our first child.  It was a big thing, I was away from home and while luckily my mother was able to fly to join me, I wanted my husband there.  His leave was denied. He was “crucial to the mission” as they were to sail to Tulane France. Seriously?  He pleads his case to his Lead Petty Officer Nygaard.. He plead his case to Senior Chief . He pleads his case to his Division Officer . He pleads his case to his Main Propulsion Assistant Warrant Officer Price. He pleads his case to his Chief Engineering Officer. No luck. He was going.  As the saying goes, If the Navy wanted you to have a wife, you would have been issued one in your sea bag.

I was enormously pregnant and being sent to Naples because I had developed Preeclampsia. While at the commissary, I ran into the Captain’s wife, Barbara. Gaeta was a small town, I had developed a good relationship with Barbara.    I explained what was happening. A.J.  liked jack.  A.J. was a former football player at Annapolis. I am sure he only noticed him because he was 6”7 and clearly an athlete, but whatever the reason- he knew my husband by name and reputation.  Jack was well respected for his work. I will never know exactly what happened, but Jack was granted leave the next day. And Barbara sent Aeysha beautiful pink dress.

A.J. was a hero in my eyes from that day forward and the unit of measure I used for every Commanding officer from that day forward. A.J. retired as a Vice Admiral and went on to be an Executive at the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard, and then President of BAE Ship Systems.   He secured a slot for me the day he gave my daughter the gift of her father for her first birthday.

Man’s search for meaning

19 Sunday May 2013

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Happy Military Appreciation Month. Today, I am recognizing my friend Matt Northam. Matt served as a MP for seven years in the US Army. He was in all the places your read about between 2001 and 2008 when he left the service; Guantanamo Bay, various military prisons and Iraq. Matt is in my writers group. He is very quiet. He writes but doesn’t always share- which makes it that much better when he does. One of the prompts we used was “tell your 9/11 story”. Matt was sitting in MEPS (Military Entrance Processing Station)
watching the horrible events unfold before him. Matt had already decided to join the service, he was merely waiting to finish his paperwork and go to bootcamp. His story was rich and wonderful to hear. He clearly explained how it felt to KNOW you are being called to serve- that there would be little doubt that he was going to war. Lots of his peers got up and left the building. He raised his hand. 
Matt and I met shortly after he first returned from Iraq. He was the security guard at night in the building I worked. I did business counseling alone in a room behind closed doors. I often did not know my clients. People get a bit anxious when you give them hard to hear feedback regarding their business, their finances and their view of the marketplace. I felt safe knowing Matt was their to watch my back. Matt, like many young veterans was an extreme athlete, a fitness fanatic and a relatively intense person. He was a Mao Thai fighting. He was trying to make himself fit back into his old life, but in a way, the puzzle piece no longer fit. Matt was studying robotics and continued to work with us even after he moved on to school at NIU. I remember that terrible Valentine’s day on the NIU campus when a disturbed young man brought a gun into a class room killing 5 people and wounding 21 others. Matt was there and thankful ok. Matt decided to take a break from school and go to Thailand to improve his fighting skills. While there, he met his beautiful woman who would change his life. His wife Whipa. 
Matt came back a very different man. He is settled, calm and committed to making a life for his family. I didn’t know Matt before he went to Iraq. But I can say that the Matt I know now, is a much more contented man than the 25 year old I got to know over dinner breaks at the Shah center. Matt has had a banner year. A new job, A new house and a beautiful daughter, Ariana. Matt was the first member of my writing group. He has been a faithful advocate of our group and for his fellow veterans. He went to Thailand searching for answers and came home understanding, sometimes the problem is you are asking the wrong questions. I am very thankful for his recommendation of Man’s Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl- it was what he read while standing guard in the prisons of Iraq. It says so much about who the man he is and the solider he was. I am deeply grateful to Matt- for his friendship, for his commitment and for his service.

16 Thursday May 2013

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It is military appreciation month. For the past 15 days, I have been writing tributes to friends and family. Today, two more brave American servicemembers were killed, along with 4 American Civilian contractors and 9 Afghanis, including 2 children by a suicide bomber. Hizb-i-Islami, an insurgent group which is allied with the Taliban, claimed responsibility for the attack.
But does it matter? It was senseless.
Today- I couldn’t do it. I was just sad.
Somewhere, a mother and father, or maybe a wife, perhaps siblings, is facing their ultimate fear, seeing a black sedan driven by military personnel in dress uniforms arrive at their home.
Soon, their friends and family, school children and veteran groups will line the streets to welcome home their hero for one last time. Poignant stories will be written in the hometown newspaper, friends from high school will reminisce about the fullness of their laughter, the crazy things they did before they became a soldier. It will be very beautiful and filled with pageantry. They died a hero, but that makes them no less grieved, no less loved, and no less gone.
Take a moment to thank the veteran in your life. They are there- you just need to look, to listen and to remember- we are a nation at war. Everyday- somebody’s child is facing the ultimate sacrifice to ensure you are free to disagree with your government, participate by casting your vote, and worship as you feel called to. Hug your children. Be thankful for the meal on your table. Delight in the blessing that you were born to the unearned privilege of being an American as you run to the mall without a thought to your safety.
You are blessed with the freedoms that the world envies. Whatever your practice, Include the families of these brave souls. And ask that they are the last. My prayers go out to all touch by the pain of these conflicts. On behalf of a grateful nation, Thank you …..for everything.

http://apps.washingtonpost.com/national/fallen/