The last of the blogs for maybe ever..

Pokey and Me..

It was never an audience nor band of followers that was ever intended or even wanted while writing this blog and even the stragglers who have found this blog by accident have faded and the country and even the world is on to other more important things than reading blogs from people like me.

I have been stewing on this comment on my blog for a few days. Adding this to the insane work schedule, the daily news and the rest of the crap that the world in general holds, I will respond to this man’s comment and then just let this blog go into cyber space to be buried under the rest of the crap that is out there… Someone who is directly looking for it may find it and get something out of it, but I guess I have said my piece and enough is enough. I’ve gotten what I can get out of it and the time has come where only detractors, general trouble making assholes and idiots to come sniffing around to make asinine comments and or take cheap politically partisan jabs at this blog and the content there in.

Here is the comment from another Gold Star Father that set the tone and struck the final nerve that I had left to share my opinions on the life of ONE father out of thousands who has lost a son in these wars.

“I believe you forgot and the liberal media taught you to forget why we went there in the first place. Yes, we did need to go to Iraq as we need to go to Iran and North Korea. Afghanistan needs to be leveled, obliterated form the face of the earth.
There’s also a time you need to put it to rest. Your son is gone, mine is gone but I look at it as better they gave their life for their country than to some drug or queer!
Look at it this way, ever hear the expression in the wrong place at the wrong time?
Well that’s us.
So get over it. Treasure the memories and move on and grow up.”

The blog comment was on was about the topic that I had addressed a few times how the world and the pacifists and selective cowards (diplomats) mainly love to pretend that they are preserving peace merely by providing the means for evil people to continue their actions and activities..instead of directly threatening them with instand and violent reactions and their heads on a platter. The absence of war does not nor has it ever meant PEACE. Only peace for those who never live in violent places and have the luxury of putting off the chance that they may soild their pretty white gloves. The peaceniks and well-meaning morons have never understood this fact. And as usual, unless war and carnage is going on in their front yard, they could give a fuck less.

Now to address this comment bit by bit.

1.  Am not sure what the hell this idiot is referring to about what I supposedly forgot or what the media taught me on the reasons that we went to war in Iraq. That was a rather stupid and rather foolish statement.. but there were more to come.
2. First I forgot why we went to Iraq, but for those same reasons I forgot, we are supposed to go to Iran and North Korea and now we need to level Afghanistan.. yeah.. I’m the one who is not understanding things here…
3. Now I need to put things to rest.. as in drop the whole remembering that our sons are dead I guess.. he must have some real super powers, or he’s a heartless cunt.. either way, its his choice.. he can lay whatever to rest he wishes.. it’s a free country.
4. He is however glad that his son died in a war rather than by some drug or some queer.. now if there are some people in the cyber world that make much sense of that other than some other inbred religious psycho, please explain that statement to me. This is so Westboro-ish and or Neo-patriotic and “conservative” that it boggles the mind.. or mine anyway.. and I think I’ve lost the rest of what I had…
5. As for the wrong place at the wrong time.. the US forces have changed the world for the better for millions of people.. it IS and will never mean the end of violence or bloodshed in the world.. maybe this horse’s ass thinks that there was some other place better or more worthy for our sons to meet their ends.. but I for one think that if ever there was a just use of military power against an evil government and their minions, then I’m perfectly fine with the time and place… My son was a combat infantryman and wanted to do bad things to bad people so good people may have a chance in a future.. if you can find this wrong.. then OK.. that’s your fucking problem.  And Mr. Commenter, you can take that us and stick it up your ass sideways.. There is no “us” unless you have a turd in your pocket. Everyone walks this trail differently, I have never told anyone how to walk the path nor is there an instruction booklet.. however as with the rest of life.. being a big mouthed poltroon is not the way for anyone to be especially proud of especially with some topics.
6. The final tidbit about getting over it and growing up again smacks of someone who has either lost their fucking minds or is a total fraud. If you can get over it and grow up after the death of your son in combat, I suggest that you’ve either never lost a son anywhere let alone combat. Or you never cared that much for the son in the first fucking place… Get over it? Really? The memories have been treasured and many have been shared here on this blog. The blog is or was a work of treasuring the life, legacy, and bravery of all of the sons lost to fathers..

10 years ago, the can stopped being kicked down the road.

Today marks the 10^th anniversary of the invasion of Iraq and the invasion that really never should have had to happen. The invasion of Iraq was something like so many other things that we as a species and a as a global community decided to just put off. The war in Iraq should have been fought by my generation; it was my war to fight. And like so many things that we should have done, we as a world kicked the can down the road to be dealt with by others. I’m sure that I am not the only father out there who served in a “combat arms” job in the peacetime military, trained for war, and never had to put our training and selves into the test of what it means to be combat arms.

I’m sure as every horrible event in time, fathers such as I who have been a history nut and admirer of those who were tossed into warfare lived, how they lived and their enemies at the same time. I have always studied the conflicts from both sides of the fence as it is a fact that the victors write history. To read the words of someone who was on the other side of the victory, the losers as it were, will you gain how horrible war is and how absolutely gut wrenching it is to talk about wars and their potential for mayhem and brutality when you have passed into obscurity and have become a surplus soldier who has been used for nothing and put away.

Fast forward almost two decades. I help raise four children with my wife and I was just watching things spin and events happen that were a sign of things to come. I am not a clairvoyant in any way shape or form. But I saw what was coming. Every attack on the US and allies by the radical Islamic asshats all over the world and the world’s refusal to rise up and put them in their place and as a species tell these assholes to just knock it off or die.. The choice never seems to be an option.

9/11 came… the day that the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach came and stayed…  I knew that the moment that the second plane struck the tower, then the Pentagon that this was something that would affect my world forever. The most sickening and helpless part of this was that I was a surplus soldier and not use to anyone. My time to slay the enemy was over. This task and this threat were solidly on my sons and daughter. I knew that the chances were great that one or even all of my children would stand up to be counted in the coming wars on the horizon and it made me sick to my very soul that my children would go off to face the demons that I as a soldier allowed to live.

The same sick feeling returned this day 10 years ago. My children were at the age where they were going to start choosing their paths. Being that they have always seen things differently than the normal run of the mill person is my fault and my blessing. I feel the pride of raising children to be human more than strictly adherent to the status quo and hiding among the sheep waiting simple for their day to have life involve them, they are the types who will live their life as real people and live and die based on what is right and what is wrong. This is part of the curse it is part of the shame. Had I been like so many others? My sons and daughters could be part of the flock, part of the generation that doesn’t know what happens to humans when tyrants and bullies are loosed on civilized humans who are shocked and unable to react to barbarism.

The oldest and first born raised his hand and stood to be counted as a man, as a human and wanted to do something to blunt the onslaught of the coming evil. He willingly walked into the wars and the evils as he knew what it was and what it meant to someone out there if he did not. As other brave young men and women have done, he decided to follow the path of the warrior, when he could have been anything else as so many do, he chose to become brothers with those like him and no matter sick the feeling in my guts, I had to stand for him and admire him as the brave man that he had become.  I have never lost the sick feeling in my guts… it never goes away and never will. I became an unused and untried Infantryman who had to watch his son become an infantryman, grow as an infantryman with his new family of brothers and then helplessly watch the load up and deployment and send his Infantryman son of to slay the evil that I was prepared to fight yet didn’t. The guilt will always be there, the shame will never be completely gone. I was a soldier once… and young as the old title of a book reads.

I now have reminders everywhere of this thing I have been sentenced to. To live while your soldier son dies. To basically have been proved horribly wrong or even a liar when upon the day of his birth that your whispered promises that you would protect him from evil and show him how to live to be something that the world needed rather than more of what the world did not.  Well for a flash in time he was the man that I never was or ever had to be.  I salute him and all of those who call him brother. Today is the day that far so many fathers found out what worrying truly was.

We regret to Inform you

It has been five years.. and at this moment on this very day, I was still a whole person, whole father and we were a whole family and we were all just completely unaware. Oh how I miss the days of being considered or even feeling normal.. We all still look normal, but we are forever damaged inside. No one can see and unless you knew Micheal, you don’t know.. The brothers knew first and miss him as deep if not deeper than we do. They live with him in the hellish world of combat for all the bads and all the goods that can be made in this man made hell. A few more hours and all of our lives changed forever. We all lost Micheal on this day 5 years ago, but we all lost a different person and this day for the rest of my life,I lose him again this day every year. I miss him, I miss myself, I miss the normal and I sometimes wish that it was just more visible to others. 

Too his combat brothers on this day, thank you for being there for him and being there for us. 

 

I found some of my old posts an thought I share them.

These are a few posts from a trucking website that I used to frequent. These posts are fresh from when my son had just been KIA and not much was known and he wasn’t even home to us yet. We (well Ianyway) sometimes feel the need to return to those days. I cannot even explan the why I do or if others do as well. I feel sometimes trapped and sentenced by fate to live in those days forever. I have rewriteen these things a few times and they are probably more accurate in those posts but the raw nature of these tend to really make me think about how I have come forward and have changed and gotten on

Thank you all for the message of support for myself and family. I am going to try and update you all what has been happening for us in the last few days and the next days to come.

I got the call at work that there were defense department people at my home. I hurried home, knowing full well what I thought was going to happen. Sure enough, they were there and they gave us the worst possible news for a military or ANY family. My son had been killed that morning in combat in Iraq. The two men who were there were the utmost in professionalism and handled a job that no one in his right mind would want to do as calmly and helpfully as anyone could have. I signed the forms that they needed and then asked if they knew the details, they knew the basics, but could say nothing if anyone else was lost with my son. I was horrified at this thought. For my son there was a story, for the members of his team that Angie and I know, they could say nothing! I was so worried for his team. As soon as the officers left and we collected ourselves and thoughts I headed to the computer to try and get in touch with his team members.

The first guy to reply back was my son’s medic, he was not on the patrol, but knew the story and was so helpful to me at the moment he needed to be. No one else was hurt with the exception of scratches and such. My son had taken the full blast of the weapon. I have told people and heard this from his team that Micheal was the type of man that would have engineered this that way had he had the choice. He of course didn’t. He was just in the wrong seat at the wrong time. Driving is what he loved to do and that is where he died. The other members began to chime in and all were OK physically. The loss of my son was a huge blow to the group. There comments and letters have helped me in this dark time! My son from several people’s point of view was that of the utmost professional soldier and as the guy who could say the funniest thing at the most perfect time to light up the room and to make the guys laugh.

We soon started getting visits from people… teachers, friends and teenagers from all over the area started to appear from everywhere. Some of the most memorable was the assistant vice principal who showed up with a well preserved letter from my son, who wrote him from Ft. Benning. He could not read the letter, he could just hand it to me to read, and the poor man was just too emotional to speak much. I read the letter and it is obvious that Micheal was on the right track, he visited this teacher on almost every leave he got, talked to his students and generally impressed the hell out of him. He handled the press for us all the next day. They of course still got most of everything wrong. I emailed and got the news reports corrected.

Monday the whole community was getting the news and the school shut down almost completely and everyone went home. The vice principal again showed up as well as numerous friends and strangers. We got our first visit from the Casualty Officers (an NCO) whose job I cannot stress enough would not be wished upon anyone! He was escorted to our home by two of the local recruiters who were really not supposed to be there… they could not stay away and were both emotional wrecks! Sitting in a room with two combat vets who are on the verge of tears was tough for me. The CO offered all the starting info and then left. I had to tell the recruiters that my son’s death changed nothing between us and that they were still a part of my family.

More visits and more food than an army could eat! I lost count of the visitors, all of them emotional and all of them offered help. There really was nothing that could help and I don’t think we were eating at that point, so things stacked up till the teenagers appeared to start eliminating the growing pile of food and snacks. Lately my heart is in my throat a lot so eating just is something you have to force. Lots of emails and the daunting task of trying to gather emails and phone numbers of people who should be told. The return emails and calls are heartbreaking to say the least. The effect of my son’s death on this average community was to me surprising. There is no way to judge how many lives your kid has touched till something like this happens.

We met with the funeral director on Tuesday. Something I thought was going to be dreadful, really wasn’t. The process was smooth, but we knew what we wanted for my son before we went and we mainly sat and talked to this guy for most of the time about many things other the coming event. He was another up front guy who gained my respect.

Today, the recruiters were our first visit. They all came and they were in their dress blues. It was a bit better on the two who showed up there Monday, but still was tough on them. We are strange people! I admit that, we are not seeking out everyone and anyone to blame for my son’s death! We KNOW who and what killed him! The visit from the CO followed and he was visually upset about something. It was about one of the more upsetting forms I had to sign for reasons I’ll not go into that had him in this state. I wish this guy’s job on NO ONE! Combat has to be easier! We are informed that Pokey is in Dover and undergoing the final process before coming home to us. Another 48 hours or so and we go get him.

The escorts and color guard are in place but about double the size. The National Guard and the reservists all wanted to escort my son home! They both won and both groups will go. As well as two of the motorcycle club escort groups. We have found out that the Fred Phelps group WILL be in the area… Give me strength!

We were not going to have a visitation at first, but with all the love that this community has shown we changed that and the night before the services, there will be a visitation for anyone who wishes to show respect to my son. The next day will be the worst day in my life! The funeral approaches and I can tell you all honestly that I am afraid to go. I really need to be strong for this one and feel that I may just not be able to hold it together for this whole thing. Right now and through the whole process for me the moments of abject and complete despair and grief are fleeting and short lived… this public service I fear will be my complete emotional undoing! I am hoping for the strength to get all the way through this! From the flag draped coffin to the folding ceremony, to presentation of the flag to taps… this is going to be hell!!

Later maybe… I have not been sleeping well at all, I’ll try again.

Respectfully,
Fozzy

We have found out that my son will be flown home to us on Sunday afternoon. He will have a visitation for the community Monday evening and then Tuesday afternoon at 1400 is the funeral for my son.

I want to thank everyone here again for their kind words and support. I honestly had no idea what this post would bring. Anyone one from the layover family that can make is more than welcome to attend. If you cannot attend, may I ask that at a minimum you wear a rubber band on your right wrist and if you have them… the loudest sneakers you have or can find on Tuesday.

Thanks folks!!

Fozzy
This is the last update for my friends here of this. My son was laid to rest here today. This at this stage of my life is the both the saddest and proudest day in my life. The ceremony was something to behold and was touching in so many ways. The unit that handled this was fantastic through all of it. My son was flown home via small private charter jet here to the local airport. They had a ceremony to off load him from the plane and load him into the hearse for the trip back to the chapel. Over 200 vehicles were in the precession; most of them were from the areas Patriot Riders groups and family. I was amazed to see numerous people who turned out in weather to welcome him home and pay respects to him. The weather was something to behold also and was another gift for us as the crazy family that we are. My son came home and brought rain, tornadoes a huge thunderstorm on Sunday and a darned near blizzard of snow on Monday! We got about 3 inches of snow the night of the visitation.

The visitation was Monday evening and was as good as these things go. The funeral home had asked for photos of Pokey throughout his life. We also provided a CD with music to be played for the viewing. I picked some rather unconventional music that my son got me into. Anyone ever hear of a band called Drop Kick Murphy? I chose three songs by them to play for my son. Amazing Grace, a Cadence to Arms and the Warrior Code. They all were songs that my son and l enjoyed when he was home last. The visitors came and went all day. I was given my son’s dog tags, his Combat Infantry Badge and several gold star pins for family and friends.

Today we awoke to brilliant blue skies and warmer temps. The funeral was today at 1400. The members of the patriot guard again escorted us to the cemetery. They were all over the place and were the standard bearers for numerous flags. When we got within sight distance of the cemetery, I was extremely moved. We almost could not get into the gate! There were hundreds of people to see Pokey off and wish him well on his next journey. The ceremony was proper military fare, short and sweet. His Chaplin was a VERY short but VERY sharp fellow who was Korean. I loved having him speak over Pokey. He did a great job and added that famous Army flavor. The rest of the ceremony was full military also. The hardest parts to get through were known and expected by me. The medals that my son was awarded, the flag folding and presentation were helped in a way by the fact that this two-star general that presented each also had tears in his eyes and could barely speak to us. The 21-gun salute was there and the playing of taps was almost too much for me to bear. But we as a family “closed ranks? Held on to each other and continued to breathe.

I am very tired and now can try to start dealing with the rest of this whole thing. I want to thank everyone here for his or her concern, well wishes and thoughts.

Fozzy

Remember Pearl Harbor, for more than the date.

Today is Pearl Harbor day. It should be a day of respect for those who were killed in the attack and a day to reflect on what that day means to the history of mankind. Today there have been many references to Pearl Harbor and it seems to me an obligatory task for those whose job it is to create news snippets to feed the general public on before they run out into their blissfully ignorant existences to live their lives and pay their bills.
The sadness that I felt as a skimmed over the news sites and social media pages about the event and the overall general ignorance and hatefulness of some Americans comments this morning was all too familiar about most days with events like this tied to them. There happened to be an earthquake in Japan this morning. For some idiots this gave them something to be happy about or to proclaim that their god sent this earthquake as punishment for Pearl Harbor.
Pearl Harbor reminds me of a something else. Pearl Harbor was historically the beginning of Americans general cluelessness and carelessness about their ideas of what war is. America fights and dies offshore. People all over the world know what war is better than ANY American does. It’s that simple. War for the general American populace happens in books newspapers, newsreels on TV sets.
America sends its best out to fight so they are protected and safe and warm and never feel even the slightest tremor of anything other than in the case of WW2 some rationing and some meaningless and propaganda based drills. America’s last taste of war among them was in 1865. They do not know war. Our veterans know war; our military has prepared for and fought the wars that the general public has conveniently been able to avoid.
Since the large world wars have ended and since the draft was ended, it has caused Americans to become even more removed from wars and the horrors involved there. The Americans simply do not know war and do not care about what war actually is. They like most other things get to sit on their backsides, make comments without knowledge or care, and complain that the store was out of their favorite brand of hot chocolate.
Pearl Harbor has become a lot of things that it wasn’t. Pearl Harbor after the war became more explainable as less an act of treachery and more a case of inept politician and embassy workers. Pearl Harbor drew America into WW2; we declared war on Germany shortly after this attack. America geared up and sent troops off to fight. But like today Americans do not fight wars… America’s military fight wars and historically never within sight or earshot of the general American public. Americans have never felt the terror of air attacks, never had to dig dead people out of the rubble, never had to evacuate their lands to flee foreign armies, and never had to live life under war conditions.
Today I salute all of the American veterans who wore the uniform that day and woke to find that they were under attack and the world had been forever changed. I remember and mourn for the fallen who never got the chance to live their lives the fullest. I also remember that Pearl Harbor was not in the United States and not even a state at the time. And I remember that this was the day that meant millions of humans would die all over the world because of it and it seems that the American general public has not been effected by it at all.

Trying and failing on the holidays.

Well another year draws to an end and with it brings changes  in the weather changes in changes in the amount of daylight, and the holidays are here and the all the trappings , emotions and hidden traps around every corner and every box. Today is Thanksgiving. Where I think it is universal for all of the gold star families to gather together and do their best to ignore the obvious and fight with the moment to moment feelings and memories of the past and the moments that we shared with our fallen.

Today I got through most of the day without noticing the empty chair or the hole in the air. We watched some old home movies last night of the kids as they were going through their holiday programs and Christmas festivities.  Little boys and girls living the wonderful joy filled times of the magic of the holidays. Watching them with their little friends singing songs on a stage, their nervous energy barely contained by the teachers who had the patience only dealing with years upon years of these things can bring. We watched the films and remembered and enjoyed the images of things past.

Today was a huge feast full of company, relatives, reminiscing, watching old shows and parades with the family, festivities and loads of food from recipes we have been eating and looking forward to since we had our first memories of Thanksgivings with our own extended families as young kids. All of my kids are getting up there to where they are adults or close to it. The addition of our grandson allows me to look forward to once again living the magic of the season through the eyes of a child. I do miss the magic!

Today was going OK and the hole in the world was put off most of the day. We went out tonight to drive through a large holiday light display that we do every year. The darkness makes the lights really look spectacular and brilliant. Some of the displays are animated using blinking lights. I kind of fell in and out  of a bit of a funk as we drove through the different displays. It made me realize that it was kind of like my mood during the holiday, moments of light and dark. I do my best to do this better every year. Some days I feel successful and other days, I just fail the whole day.

Where ever you are tonight Micheal, I hope you are surrounded by your brothers in arms and are having a ball of a time. You are missed every day.. somedays just more than others.

Made myself cry today.. dammit!

Scrolling through Facebook this morning.. came to one of the places that I look at occasionally. I do not really haunt the Infantry sites too much but one page called “11 Bravos” is pretty decent and there are some old ex grunts there too like me who post pictures and such of Ft Benning and a few of otther places I have been when I wore the infantry garb. 

This morning someone posted the question “Who has their E.I.B?” and before I knew it I was posting about the day that I traded Micheal’s CIB for my old rarely seen EIB. and the tears were just there before I knew what was happening. The last few months has been rather trying, between the highway memorial and the Post Office dedication.. I guess this is just starting to get to me. 

My son has my EIB that I earned 5 years before he was born with him.. and its still a crappy trade.

Military Funerals are NOT family reunions!!!

Here comes another topic that will probably get me on some shorter list of being someone’s favorite as I have already told a few people what they could do and where they can do it and their either complete ignorance or carelessness as it relates to them taking and or posting pictures of the families of the fallen during the services. Next to taking and posting pictures of dead or dying military men and women, this is unquestionably the most disrespectful, heartless and voyeuristic thing that anyone could do! 

This came up as a topic last week for me as there was yet another “nonprofit” military support page that posted an absolutely heart breaking pictures of a young woman who was standing at the rear of a hearse with a flag draped coffin in it. I KNOW what this woman was going through at the moment and a damned good idea what she was feeling and if you have not gone through this  then you simply have no idea what it is like! I do not care if you’ve been in the military for a thousand years or how much you supposedly “care”.

 I think if you have not gotten specific and direct permission from the immediate family, taking pictures at military funerals is barbaric and depending on the person doing so, completely self-serving. I do not understand what the desire or motivation would to take pictures of other people and even strangers going through what people go through at these ceremonies.

I got into a scrap the other night with the person who posted the photo (and many more) on his “support” page.  He could not wrap his head around the fact that this is an intrusion of someone’s privacy in probably the absolute worst moments of their lives. He told me that he has been doing this for three years and that he scans the internet for over ten hours a day for pictures like this. I told him that these were very disrespectful to the families and he then told me that he posts these pictures to “elicit emotions and create support”. Did I mention that this man runs a non-profit? Hmmm… Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why he’s really posting these pictures.

I kept up with that site for a few more hours just seeing what he was posting and was posted back (He blocked me of course) and it was pretty damned amazing when he went into victim mode. He had been attacked by a gold star family and was “really hurt”. Well isn’t that too damn bad? Trying to explain to the selfish ass that these pictures are NOT done out of anything but a means of cash flow to him was an “attack”. His supporters came out of the woodwork of course tell him that they of course would certainly be proud as peacocks to allow photographers to take pictures of them at their son’s funeral “if it ever happened of course” If any of these people had to sit and the side of their son’s flag draped coffin while parasitic humans snapped pictures of them.. I think they would feel differently

Then a supposed veteran who has had “family members in every American war since the revolution” told my wife to “Fuck off” because he knew more that her about what is honorable and proper at military funerals. There were plenty of others who chimed in to tell the rest how they were certain that these pictures bring no pain to anyone and are a wonderful way for us to remember the day… REALLY? Does anyone actually think that we would forget that day? Does anyone think that we’d drag the photos out and share them and have a good time reminiscing of the day we buried our oldest son?

So let me tell some of you people something. If you are in the mindset that taking or posting of pictures of mourning family members at the FIRST moments that they lay eyes on their returning son’s coffin being pulled from a plane, or photographing the family members during the moments of the LAST time they will every lay eyes on their son before the place him in the ground.. You’re an ignorant, selfish moron who WILL never understand how evil and morally bankrupt that you are! 

The Spc. Micheal E. Phillips Memorial Highway

Not even sure where to begin on this entry. So many things have come and gone since the last entry.  We got the news that the interstate running through the town we live in was to be dedicated to Micheal. This would never have happened if not for the hard work of our State representatives and I thank them for their hard work in getting this done.

Micheal would have of course been completely mortified and probably even irritated at these signs being placed. He was a class clown and generally out to get laughs and laugh himself in good times and bad. His being so publically recognized for being a brave young man who was killed in the service to his country, his brothers and humanity… not so much.

We were told that the highway dedication was approved and that sometime in September, the signs would be placed and the interstate officially dedicated in his honor. As things go or have gone, we got some excited phone calls from friends of friends who alerted us that the signs were placed… on August 27^th! So Angelia and I hopped into the truck and headed north to see if we could find them… We found the sign on the southbound side of the Interstate.. it was kind of a confusing emotional few moments as the sign came into view. We got out of the truck and walked to the sign… This is definitely not how you ever plan on having your kid’s name up in lights so to speak.

We took a few pictures and came back home, the next day, road crews placed covers over them. I was kind of glad to get the preview. The actual ceremony was weeks later and we had the honor of having the PGR ride captain who was there for us the day we brought Micheal home there for the dedication. We had a little short ceremony (I was pretty nervous being on the side of the interstate) and Senator Simpson gave a shot speech and it was easy to see and hear in the man’s voice that this was not just another political event.

He spoke of Micheal and of the dedication and got rather choked up, we choked up, the media choked up, but as soon as he and Angelia cut the bindings that held the canvas covers over the signs and it fell away, It made us all feel a better, several trucks on the interstate passing by honked their approval and support (I hope) and we all ended up smiling when we left the site.

If the sign will make people passing through our town stop and think of the military men and women who do so much for all of us, then the signs will have their desired effect. 

Who the Hell wants this Gold Star?

I have written in the past about a difference in deaths and how the difference in deaths of loved ones, even patriarchs of the family where completely different than losing a son in combat far from home. This evening in a discussion some people were discussing the whole gold star parent issue and who is or is not a gold star parent. I honestly have not sat down and read the legalities in the whole mess and really do not understand who in the hell would want to be a gold star parent. This is where I may lose some of the lurkers and some of the parents or people who have stumbled upon this blog to read the words that I post from my thoughts and feelings of this whole damn thing.

For the record I HATE being a gold star father… I hate it! Every second of every waking moment, I hate the whole experience. I would not wish this on anyone regardless of who they are or what they may think. I can understand that losing loved ones is a horrible life altering experience. I do however think that our men and women who are lost in combat are DIFFERENT than those who serve in the military who are lost HERE at home. NOTICE that I did not say better, more important, or any of the other things that I got accused of during the discussion.

What’s the difference? Why do I dare declare that people who lose their military family members here at home? COMBAT! The whole NEW AGE combat experience. And before anyone makes the charge that I myself have never seen combat, this is true… But I am the one declaring my utter and total respect of these kids who go off into the UNKNOWN and horribly dangerous nightmare world of EID’s, Snipers, Savages dressed in civilian garb, bomb laden children, the fatigue the all night door kicking missions when total evil was behind every door, the REAL potential of death and horrible disfigurement and death at every moment.

I honor all who serve, but to all my combat sons, they will never know how much I admire them for willingly going through this and being my son’s brother. Sharing in his life and helping him pass into his death surrounded by the love of his loved ones… his brothers… Micheal knew that he was not home, Micheal knew that he could be killed, Hell, Micheal told me that he was afraid of the very god damned thing that took his life and he god damn lived for a hour and twenty minutes knowing that his worst fear had come true. He died away from home in one of the most hostile places on the face of the earth.

I will not be told that someone who was at home, living their daily lives among those they loved without these constant threats and sharing the nightmarish world of combat felt the same way or lost their lives in the same way. I am sorry that people die in their everyday lives. I understand that parents and loved ones grieve for their lost sons and daughters. They just cannot be serious when they compare the two and damn me for thinking that my son’s death was different than their loved ones was. I was told that “dead is dead” and that I was not respecting the losses of other parents. That’s nonsense. They send their son to live their life in the USA. I sent my Infantry son to Iraq. That very night the clock started… Every god damned day I was worried for him and walked the floors knowing that there were people out there trying to kill him and all of his brothers… I got the call, I was not shocked… Maybe that’s the difference? I expected that it was a possibility that in a combat zone, Micheal could die any day. The parents never had a clue that it was coming. Their loss is just as horrible, their sons are just as gone, but to me there is a difference and that’s the way it’s supposed to be. So damn me, think I’m evil for not thinking that my loss is different… So be it! I’ll accept that.