It’s Memorial Day, which has me thinking, remembering, and a little bit sad. Today is a day that we reflect over those we’ve lost due to war, and this hits closer to home than I ever would have thought. Almost four years ago, we lost a friend in Iraq. A dear high school friend of Dad-oo and a friend that I became “Aunt Allison” too. In memory and in honor of Stever, I asked Dad-oo to share a little bit about him:
I’ve never known anyone like Stever before and I doubt I’ll meet anyone like him again. He was one of my best friends and the most loyal person I’ve ever known. My first vivid memory of our friendship is when Stever walked up to me in the hallway freshmen year of high school and casually jabbed a pencil into my arm. The pencil entered on the outside of my right arm in the tricep area. I remember that detail because the graphite is still quite embedded in that exact location and very visible. How is that a friendship memory and not an “assault victim” memory? Well the next thing Stever did after retracting the writing utensil out of my limb was to smile and yell out “Hey Mikey!” as if this was a very normal greeting and after the initial spike of pain receded I remember treating it as such. We resumed discussions as normal, I don’t even think we talked about the pencil attack at all. I call it a badge of honor though thinking back I’m still not sure why he thought that was an appropriate greeting or why I agreed with him. Probably the same reason I thought it was appropriate (and hilarious) to send him a basket of beef jerky and licorice after his jaw was wired shut following a surgery.
While most kids our age spent their time watching sitcoms and sports (or whatever we did to avoid being intellectually stimulated), Stever watched history and military documentaries, The West Wing and played hours of Command and Conquer. I guess it shouldn’t have surprised me when he joined the Airforce and shipped off to Wyoming to become as he put it “a glorified 911 operator for nuclear missiles”. It did surprise me though. Stever joining the military wasn’t an idea I could grasp at that time. I didn’t understand his motivation or how his mind worked, I guess I was just stuck in the “college is what you do after high school” mode. The military was just that staff sergeant (Irwin, Staff Sergeant Irwin was his name) that called every once in a while and attempted to goad us into joining the army so the commies wouldn’t take over. I wish I could tell you that I learned anything at all from the time Stever joined the Airforce to the time he enlisted in the Army National Guard, but I can’t. Especially considering the high probability of deployment to Iraq.
There’s no way I have the time or space to review all of my memories of Stever in this one post so I’m going to focus on the one thing that relates most to Memorial Day and what I learned (and continue to learn) from it. Steve was killed in action 5 days after arriving in the Middle East on July 24, 2006, as a result of injuries sustained from an IED detonating under his vehicle. I got the call from a friend while I was at work and after the initial denial stage I was devastated. I can’t even imagine the impact on his family, Steve was an only child. Stever’s life was celebrated at a packed memorial service with great speeches from his family and friends. The service was concluded by a full procession of bagpipes. In case you didn’t think a group of bagpipes could sneak up on anyone, think again. The several of us facing the back of the auditorium saw them walk in, the others (and there were many) never saw it coming. The emotional resonance of 10 or more bagpipers belting out surprise Amazing Grace is indescribable.
So after all of this, after the pain and the grief and almost 4 years later thinking about Stever on a near daily basis, I think I may have also learned something. I never said I was smart but I occasionally pick up on something if it’s right in front of me for years. Stever was a defender. There aren’t many of them, and maybe we need more but Stever was doing this to defend his country and the people in it. The people who can’t or won’t do it for themselves. The people who’s idea of a “warrior” is the guy who puts on pads and a helmet and tosses a ball around for a couple hours every week. The people who celebrate being free and safe by taking it for granted. The people who considered military service about as long as they considered building a raft and shoving off into the Atlantic ocean after high school. Me.
It took me a long time but I better understand Stever’s “go hard or go home” attitude, his “shut the ____ up and do it” mantra, the feeling that he couldn’t relate to civilian life after coming home, and the anguish he felt (and displayed) at so many people’s lack of perspective, especially those who bashed military members because they were more interested in partisan bickering and shaky ideals. I say “better understand” because another thing I learned is that no matter how much I tried to empathize with Stever, I could never understand what he went through or what he was going through. Not without doing what he did or having his perspective on life. So on Memorial Day the best I can do is remember and be mindful. Remember my dear friend and what he did for his country and be mindful that I at least try to be a civilian who is aware.
I would say Rest in Peace Stever, but I think that’s the last thing you would want. Cause some damage wherever you are.
Thanks for listening. Happy Memorial Day.
