What drives me

I stood on a street today for almost 2 hours waiting for the local marine that was killed to drive by. A few of the guys from the vet office on campus were there waving flags. It was kinda emotional, at least as emotional as I've fealt in a long time, but it reminds me of some stuff I had to deal with when I was in the Army. Rather than lay awake and think about it all night I thought I'd post the story up here.

It may be depressing, and I may use profanity. Also this isn't an open invitation to call me or start a conversation with me about this stuff, but I figure this type of story is important for people to hear and maybe learn from.

It was a cold day, but how many days weren't in upstate NY. I was hardly working, and after sorting the mail I tried to duck out of work for the last few hours in my room since I had a cold anyways. My roommate came home at about 6:30 saying the news reported a helicopter crash. I thought he was full of shit. He was a funny little LA mexican so he was usually full of shit and trying to play some dumb joke on me anyways. He wouldn't let up, so I figured the worst I could do is get my shit together and go in to the headquarters to see what was going on. I was working for the CSM, the top guy of the aviation unit, so if something was going on, he'd probably have errands for me to run.

He was in there, and there was an unusual level of activity, so I guessed my rommate was right. He was pretty pissed he couldn't get ahold of me... figures this happens on a day I try to sneak away early. But a helicopter down could mean anything at this point, with most thoughts leaning towards something minor... at least in my head.

I got the vehicles ready, as I usually did, and waited for instructions. We went to the hanger in our hummer, and I sat out in it for hours, thinking at some point we'd go inspect the crash site. That didn't happen, instead we went back to headquarters where I got the big 15 passenger van warmed up instead. I was the lucky taxi driver for a bunch of political officer, high up ass nuggets it turned out, as I sometimes was when I worked under the CSM. At this point I knew people were hurt. I didn't know to what extent, who they were or how many, but I knew I was going to be driving around a bunch of officers with big shiny birds, stars, and other stuff on their collars. These shiny things meant alot to most people, but I had a problem sometimes not kissing ass, and jumping up quick enough.

The first house we went to was Tripp's. The car was unusually quiet. I was anxious to know what really happened, and to who, but I knew better than to open my lowly mouth. I was following directions as they were told to me. So we got to his house, and the crew of dressed officers unloaded. I didn't know him well, but I knew of him, and we had mutual friends. The doc came with us. His wife was pregnant so they wanted to have him handy in case she needed him. I didn't go to the door on this one, I sat in the car waiting for them to inform her why he hasn't been home yet, and that he wouldn't be coming home.

The anxiety builds as I realize this isn't a joke. Not only that but that we'd be going to more houses tonight, and I didn't know which ones we'd show up at. The second house was out of town a little bit. The pilot was a middle aged guy, probably late 30's early 40's. I didn't know him either, but he did have 5 kids I think. They were talking about it on the way, trying to come up with a plan of what else they could do afterwords. I stayed in the car on this one also.

Two months prior I went over to a friends house to watch some football, drink a beer, and hang out a little. It was his door we were pulling up to this time. I told them all I was friends with this family and they invited me to the door, so I went. It sucked hearing the captain read, 'the united states army regrets to inform you that your husband, barry stephens, paid the ultimate sacrifice... blah blah blah'. She knew once she opened the door. Her mother was there at least, she lived close by and it was probably near 12 by now. She looked and realized I was there and called my name. It sucked. This is one of those times where you wished you would have done some research on things appropriate to say. (for those of you who don't know and may need to at some point, 'i'm sorry' is the only thing you should probably say, period) His daughter was about as old as Brylee is now.

So we were walking the coffin up through the church. Luke was there. I was in my suit. After the ceremony we walked him out and stood outside for a fly over. I don't know how the other guys looked, but I was leaning on the coffin pretty good. I thought I was going to fall over the whole time, and had to have looked hunched over next to the other guys in the ceremony.

There's a flag somewhere near his daughter. It was the one draped over the coffin, folded up and given to his 21 year old widow. I don't know if it's in a box, or on the wall. It sucks to think she never had the chance to hear his goofy ass laugh.

The point of all of this is, I think about this and others frequently. Sometimes more than others, but it always lingers. I don't care how hard it is to get where I want to go, cause while I'm still breathing I'm going to work as hard as I can to take advantage of my opportunity to be alive and work towards my goals. I'm not really in school just for myself, or my family. I'm not doing it just to get a better job either. I'm doing it to better myself, my family, and in honor of those who've died before having the chance.

There's plenty more to say, with plenty other things to talk about. But I'm done saying it for now. Don't call and ask questions about this. Imagine an amputee who lost his leg in a horrible bear attack, where everywhere he goes people ask him how it happened, just so he could relive the memory of the bear chewing on his knee cap... Later