22 October 2001
Dear Kris,
This a letter of love.
All night I have had memories of your start in this world. Your Mom and I went to talk to the obstetrician at the Key West Naval Hospital as to where you were. He said on that Friday that if you didn’t come over the weekend for us to come in Monday at 8 AM and we’d have a baby. That’s what we did … you were induced and turned out perfectly as far as proud parents could tell. Since your brother of 3 years old wasn’t allowed in to see you, I took him around the outside of the hospital wing and boosted him on top of a air conditioner so he could see his Mom and new brother thru the window. He thought you were pretty neat!
I don’t know if you knew of your new nephew’s birth two Sundays ago; you may have been deployed by then. In any case, your new nephew, Kristofor, was scheduled to be induced, but he was too anxious so he came without that kind of help. We met him yesterday for the first time and he is a charmer. He’s got the biggest toes --- for a 10lb 12oz baby he should have big toes. And guess what --- he’s perfect too! What a great job Ric and Dana have done!!!
When you were just a few weeks old, I was holding you in my arms and letting you suckle on my biceps for a few minutes while your mother prepared some cereal. Your voracious appetite was legendary by then, so anything to keep you quiet --- your pacifier was nowhere to be found. When it was time to eat I pulled you away only to discover a huge red hicky on my arm. Poor mom was all that I could think of the next time she was about to nurse you.
You grew fast and strong, but just after your first birthday you had what looked like a bruise on your cheek one morning, so into the NAS Pax River emergency room for you. Fortunately, a pediatrician was on duty and knew immediately what the problem was. You had to go on an antibiotic IV for a week and you had to stay in the hospital without Mom and Dad. We were beside ourselves. I think we talked the staff in letting one of us stay with you while the other stayed with your brother. Anyway, when we first got to see you after they hooked up the IV, you arms were bruised from hand to shoulder due to attempts to insert the IV needle. I remember relating this story to a British exchange officer at work a few years ago and I still was unable to tell the story without tears in my eyes. Our love for you started a long time ago and will continue for a long time.
As a young tyke at preschool you were selected to be one of the three wise men at the Orange Park Kindergarten Christmas play. Although I was deployed to Iceland at the time I didn’t get to see your performance. Mom told me about it though. The narrator announced each wise man and the gift he brought. That was the cue for the child to come forth on stage and present the gift to the baby Jesus. When your wise man’s name was called no wise man appeared. You decided that instant you weren’t going out in front of all those people dressed like you were. Baby Jesus only got two gifts that year.
I did return from deployment after six months and you, Mom and your brother Ric were there to welcome me home to Jacksonville. You were 2 and a half years old when this happened. I can still see the three of you standing on the ramp waiting for me. Your beautiful Mom beaming, your brother Ric about to run to me and you hiding behind your Mom peering out from around her leg. Mom and Ric gave me a big hug, but you weren’t too sure about who this was. It took a while for you to warm up to me again, but it happened. It was then, that I decided that the naval career, going away and coming back to my family was not for me. When that tour of duty was over I would not do any more sea duty. One more shore tour in Jacksonville kept us in Orange Park, Florida until 1980. These were some of the happiest years of my life: watching my boys grow up, being home every day at 4:30 with mundane family things to do.
The rocky years were in the mid 80s when your Mom and I divorced. For so long I thought it was never a consideration, inconceivable! But it happened and I consider it a major failure in my life, not a triumph. You and Ric made it through the tough times, hopefully due in part, to the unflinching love both your parents gave you then and still do now as well as from your Aunt Linn and cousin Rick. You guys had great times in Tampa Florida at Linn’s house exploring near the river and swimming in her pool.
You and your brother were always close and showed your love for each other in different ways. I’m sure that’s why you guys used blowguns to shoot darts at each other. Who was it that got hit in the thigh? You would never have done that to people you didn’t love. And throwing snow balls at cars from the bridge over East Road --- another brotherly activity to share.
You got into the BMX bike craze with your brother and your friends. It has become an "extreme" sport now, but back then it was what you and your buddies did: handstands on the handlebars, 180 degree hopping turns, 360s if you could manage, use of a quarter pipe built out in the street for doing tricks. Modifying the bike was what you did when you weren’t riding. You, Eric Southwell and Luke Stevens would spend hours practicing and perfecting the tricks. Your independence grew too, I found out later --- you guys would take the train to Philadelphia --- with your bikes and ride in the big city!
You went off to college mostly because that’s what kids did coming out of Central Bucks West High School. You chose the University of Delaware because Mom and Dad went there and so did other relatives. There you met some good friends, but always stayed in touch with those you grew up with --- Luke, Eric and Rob Lorch. A year on academic probation and a year on the dean’s list was enough for you. You decided to take a semester off and work. Landscaping and tree trimming occupied your time for a while. That Summer Aunt Linn took you and your cousin Rick to Prague and Vienna for several weeks to steep in old Europe, see the sites and just have a good time. You did enjoy the time there with my sister and nephew.
An unfortunate event occurred that was a turning point in your life, but because of the death of your close friend Rob Lorch, you and Erin, Rob’s sister became close friends. Friendship blossomed to love which endures to this day. With Erin you got the call of the wild which took you to Montana to rendezvous with Luke who was at the U. of Montana. There you were in love and fell in love with Montana. After working a while at a particle board factory where you mastered moving sawdust and wood chips from one place to another, you decided to go back and finish college; the way to do that financially was to join the Army ROTC program. Even though you were too old to be on a full scholarship, the Army would pay you monthly. As a philosophy major you did well. You excelled as an Army ROTC cadet. In summer camp you received the award for the highest physical training score in the regiment. Luckily, the camp was at Fort Knox, Kentucky where your brother was stationed so you could visit him, Dana and the your nephew Dereck and niece Camrin. You had hours of fun rough housing with them. And through all of this you maintained your commitment as a vegan: no meat, no fish, no dairy, no chicken, no foods with those items listed as ingredients either. No clothing items made with leather or wool. That made it difficult for us to buy presents from LL Bean. Few LL Bean things come without leather or wool. But that was your conviction. We understood. We loved you! We worked around it.
I made a super pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving several times using a tofu recipe you showed me. And your Mom created vegan dishes anytime you were home. No experiment in vegan cooking was too much for your creative Mom.
Somewhere in all this you developed a need to understand nature and how man could fit in with the natural world and become part of it without exploiting it. You and Luke studied and learned some of the skills of the American Indian, making utensils, tanning deer hide (that you got from a hunter), tracking and stalking animals and living in the woods with no provisions or tools other than a knife. Your skills were honed enough to stalk a fawn in the woods and reach out and touch it. Knowing the ultimate coup of stalking (thanks to the Tom Brown books you shared) that the American Apache Indian performed as a right of passage to becoming a warrior was to stalk a bear, swat its hind quarters and run like the wind, I as a father was thankful you were not Apache. Nevertheless, you developed those skills so you could indeed survive in the wilderness using your knowledge of the natural surroundings. Nature was bountiful in gifts if you could recognize them. You could and did! The debris huts you built here, in Ohio at Aunt Linn’s and in Montana are proof of your abilities and your commitment to nature. You used them as intended --- a natural shield against the elements spending nights in them to test their effectiveness and test your resolve.
Finishing your junior year as a philosophy major at the U of Montana you decided that your goal was Army Special Forces. To do that as an officer meant waiting until a Captain promotion --- somewhere around 4 years. As an enlisted man, Special Forces was available years before that. Your decision then was to enlist and see what happened. Basic was a piece of cake (without dairy I might add) with you being the bearer of the guide-on at graduation. You looked smart with the greatest of military bearing as you marched behind the company commander. He saluted and you brought the guide-on to the position to render a salute so the guide-on was parallel to the ground. In doing so you knocked your name-tag loose so that it was hanging by one pin. No one noticed except your brother; we verified it in the photos. No big deal then, you were done with that.
Even though the Army wouldn’t let you come home for Thanksgiving last year, you put your time in at the empty training battalion with the rest of the guys going to Airborne school. Airborne was a bit tougher, but you made your qualifying jumps without problems, still being a vegetarian, but maybe eating some gravy on those mashed potatoes; still trading your mystery meat portion for vegetables.
Since a Special Forces soldier volunteers from other Army units, it seemed a logical choice to try for the Rangers. You knew it would be a tough course. Ranger Indoc was the most difficult in a lot of ways. First it was demanding physically and emotionally, but it was impossible to stay healthy and fit being a vegan. OK, eat chicken and some dairy cause you have to be fit. Eat what the instructors order you to eat and you did! You made it thru three weeks of pure hell. Of the 220 Airborne graduates who volunteered for Ranger training, only 21 did not voluntarily drop out. That was another accomplishment. And throughout every qualifying physical fitness test, which occurred with every new phase of training, you scored beyond the maximum number of points: 300 plus points consistently.
Then you were part of Bravo Company, 3rd battalion of the 75th Rangers. The next goal was to earn the Ranger tab to wear on your uniform and really be a part of the team. To do that you needed Ranger School that you finally started in September. On a night navigation exercise you fell into a 4-foot deep hole and sprained your ankle. You gutted it out for 3 more days, but when it was obvious you couldn’t walk, School for you stopped while you recuperated. The cast came off Friday the 5th and you started physical therapy. The ankle must have been well enough for you to deploy because that’s what you did. I’m sure the medical people asked you whether you were ready. You could have said no, the ankle’s not ready. How I wish you had! But you did not want to let down the team, your buddies whom you would protect and who would protect you. That’s what being a Ranger was all about. You were one of them; a young man with a strong sense of personal honor. You wanted to be with the best and you were.
Kris, you and your brother Ric have been the delight of my life. When studying for my master’s degree an exercise we did was to put in order of importance the most significant things in your life. Number one on my list was to be a good father. I hope I have been that, because the love I have for you both is immeasurable.
I resent having to do what I do today --- it goes against all that is balanced in a good world. Parents should not be burying their children. Kris was doing what he wanted do, but I am not.
Kris was a fine young man of courage, strength, moral conviction and honor who was sensitive and caring about people. He would not destroy animals for food or clothing, yet saw as his vision the job he was doing. He probably would not have done it for a career, but he was committed to doing his job as best he could.
Within the last month or so Kris made some big decisions. He came to the realization (as most of us do) that the military life was lacking in some ways. He missed Erin. He wanted her to share his life --- he was now ready for marriage and children. The plan was for Erin to move to Georgia after her December graduation.
Kris we will miss you. A part of me died with you. The void can never be filled. You will live in my heart forever.
In accordance with your wishes we will scatter your ashes at Upper Holland Lake outside of Missoula, but we may have to wait a while --- Luke says there’s snow there already so the 8 mile hike from the road would be pretty tough for Naval Flight Officers like me and CID agents like your brother or any other non-Rangers. But when we do we’ll have all your requests fulfilled: 2 songs by Live and one from Echo and the Bunnymen, Guiness Beer on tap and cheap cigars.
We love you!
Dad