Losing one of our own

Members of my family have served with honor in the U.S. military as far back as I can remember. At the same time, members of my family have also stood in opposition to the horrors of war. I think, like many American familes, we've understood that one can both be committed to serve, and at the same time, repulsed that there is a need to do so. So while some of us have served in various military units, others of us have demonstrated, written to our representatives in Congress and to the president, and participated in peace groups, all with the aim of seeking an end to war. Our family embraces all of us, even though we may not all share the same views about war and military service.

One of my cousins is the Jesuit priest who, while serving as chaplain to the U.S. Marine Corps, celebrated the first mass said atop Iwo Jima's Mt. Suribachi during World War II. One of my uncles was shot down in a B-17 bomber  over Germany in that same war, and another, who went ashore with the troops on D-Day, was the first U.S. Army doctor to go into Dachau  and treat those who survived the horrors of that Nazi death camps.

My 88-year-old father served in World War II and is a proud veteran of the U.S. Navy.  Several of my cousins served in Vietnam, and my youngest daughter was stationed in Kuwait with the U.S. Air Force before and after 9/11.  Today one of my nephews, who serves in the U.S. Navy, is taking his medical corpsman training and very likely will be sent off to the Middle East.

But until now, every one we've sent has come home safely. (That B-17 in which my uncle was flying somehow managed to limp to Sweden, and my uncle spent the rest of the war interned there, learning to love Swedish food and beautiful Swedish women. He's now 92 and still very much with the family on all counts).

However earlier this week we received the terrible news that one of our cousins, a 20-year-old soldier from Eastern Washington's farm country, will be coming home in a flag-draped casket. As I type this, even now the tears start running down my face. I'm thinking not only of this young life that was lost, but of the enormous hole his death leaves in his parents' hearts.

We Scandinavian-Americans are somewhat undemonstrative and have trouble talking about our feelings in public. But to lose one of our kids pushes us past that psychic barrier and leaves us open, vulnerable, washed by waves of grief. One of my sons died when he was in his 20s, and even now, 18 years later, his loss is fresh and horrible. And his death was only an accident caused by bad judgment and treacherous winter-hiking conditions, not the result of a horrible war none of us ever wanted.

The young man we've lost, Matthew J. Emerson, was killed when he was thrown from a Humvee in the city of Mosul in Iraq's Ninewah province in September 18. The town is near the Tigris River in Northern Iraq.  He was a member of the U.S. Army's 2nd Battalion, 7th Cavalry Regiment, 4th Brigade Combat Team, 1st Cavalry Division. Matt was an infantryman in an army division with roots that go all the way back to the American Civil War. According to reports I received from family members, the Humvee in which he was riding was struck by an improvised explosive device (IED).   

He graduated from Grandview High School in 2005, where he played on the football team, and was, by all accounts, a gentle, friendly and generous-hearted young man. He was a great fan of Washington State University Cougars and the San Francisco 49ers football teams.  He loved his pickup truck, video games,the Lord of the Rings film trilogy, and the band Metallica.  He leaves behind his parents, one sister and one brother, and a very large extended family. He will be buried along side his materhal grandfather in the Prosser Cemetery not far from the Yakima River.  His family has put together a memorial website with a number of photos, which can be seen here. 

Here are several photos of Matt in military uniform, and one of his sad sad homecoming. Please remember him and all who have died  in this horrible war, regardless of political, religious or military affiliation. Tomorrow I will take a  photo of Matthew and a plackard bearing his name and will attach it to one of the crosses--he was a member of the Church of the Nazarene--at the Iraq War Memorial near the Lafayette BART station. There his marker will join those of the other 3792 Americans who, to date, have been kiled in this war.  Last night Matthew's name was read at before the mourners' kaddish was recited at Adas Israel Synagogue in Washington DC. And I know that around the nation, countless Pagan families lit candles this week in Matthew's memory and prayed for comfort for his family.  May Matt return in love, and, as we Pagans say, what is remembered lives.

war military death died Iraq soldier peace memory funeral family remember

Comments

[Brighde]

Victoria, Matthew's spirit will be called at our Spiral Dance here in the valley. May he return in love, and may his family find some comfort in memory...

Brighde