unwrapping and important gift

Memorial Day: so much more than a three-day weekend

Scribbled quotes in my notebook from the first day.

This past semester... I had an amazing story fall right into my lap and I've been working to unwrap it bit by bit for the last couple months.  The process has required a lot of reading, interviewing, discussing, thinking, writing, deleting, writing more, deleting everything, and starting over... It's been a long process but it's been well worth the investment. 

I decided to make a small blog so that I could share stories from the project with friends and family but anyone who wants to read it is more than welcome... Anyways, I don’t want to spoil the whole story for those who haven’t heard me gab about it for hours on end… but… long story short, it all began when my Media in War class had an assignment to write a report about a service member buried in Section 60 of Arlington Cemetery, the section where fallen service members from the Wars in Iraq and Afghanistan are buried.

Again, please take the chance to read it! I’m not trying to promote it because it’s my own work, I honestly feel it’s an important story to tell and I was just lucky enough to write it.  

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    

- Making it Personal: In Honor of Eric L. Ward -      

Every American remembers September 11th as an influential day in the United States. Monica McNeal was on a business trip to New York when the twin towers were struck. Unharmed, she returned home to Washington State to her son who was in elementary school at the time. On her son’s 17th birthday, he asked her to sign the permission forms so that he could enlist in the United States Marine Corps after graduating from high school. Monica admits that she never knew if the fact that she was in New York City during the 9/11 attacks was a factor into her son’s decision to enlist. He headed to Afghanistan in 2009 and every time Monica talked to him, he sounded positive, though she knew all along that this positivity was his way of protecting her from half way around the world. The Marine was killed on February 21st, 2010 in a hostile attack in the Helmand Province of Afghanistan while trying his best to protect his country, and undoubtedly, his mother.

This is a picture I took while going up the escalator 
to Arlington Cemetery the first day I visited.

I began this project by walking to section 60 of Arlington National Cemetery on a beautiful Sunday morning in late February. It wasn’t my first trip to Arlington, but I hadn't been to section 60 since an 8th grade fieldtrip spring of 2006. Regrettably, the plot of land that was vacant during my first visit has since been lined with marble headstones. The wars have been controversial, and Americans have not shared the burden equally. There is no looming draft to keep people fearfully engaged; the “enemy” has not always been easy to define; and, aside from terrorizing acts like those on 9/11, the wars have never touched American shores. The media have done a mediocre job of reporting what is really happening and why it should matter. Americans’ short attention span has transformed media coverage into inadequate excerpts about the rising death toll and the occasional photo of a flag draped casket. Many people are too far removed to recognize the true cost of war.

I am categorically “unaffected” by the wars, partially because I’ve grown up in a community where no one enlists after high school graduation. The only people I have ever known who served in the military worked for the Air Force but never saw the front lines. I know someone working for the Navy somewhere off the coast of Japan, but again, three people who have never seen the front lines is the closest connection I have to any war. The topic of media and war has interested me for years, but I have felt a desperate need for some sort of connection as I grapple with a distant world that I know little about. I thought personal stories would make the war feel more tangible and concrete, but I knew they were hard to come by, especially if I seemed to be meddling in a community to which I didn’t belong.

This is where I scribbled "Visit Again" in my notes. 
 It's wild to look back and see where it all began.

While walking around Arlington, I began writing down the names of servicemen who stood out to me based on trinkets, photos, and notes that I saw left by each grave marker. The grave of one Marine grabbed my attention. While the trinkets around Lance Corporal Eric L. Ward’s headstone first captured my eye, I chose him for my assignment because he died just days before I lost my best friend in high school in 2010. The Marine was only 19 years old when he was killed fighting in Operation Enduring Freedom. I jotted down his name in my notebook and scribbled, “visit again” in the margins, not realizing that my next visit would somehow lead me to a phone conversation with Eric’s mother, Monica McNeal.

Eager to begin research, I took note of a laminated sheet of paper on Eric’s grave with a link to a Facebook page titled, “In remembrance of our Mount Si friend L.Cpl. Eric Ward.” I wanted to see if social media seemed to change the way communities grieve. Someone put the link there because they wanted it to be seen, so I figured tiptoeing into the realm of social media would be an interesting place to start. Throughout my initial research, I found countless newspaper articles and blogs that posted content about his life and death, but nothing resonated with me quite like the memorialized Facebook page. It was astounding. There are almost 3,000 people who have “liked” the page and it is regularly updated three years after his death. I figured that the person running the page is very clearly devoted to preserving Eric’s memory, as the posts often include inspirational quotes and photos that help give outsiders and idea of who he was. It is clear that he was a remarkable figure in his community because people are still highly engaged online.

Photo courtesy of Molly Feder, a friend who 

visited Arlington Cemetery in April and 

snapped this photo!  

I began thinking about how Arlington cemetery is unique compared to other cemeteries. Like the military itself, everything is systematically lined up to be efficient, regulated, and organized. This system creates a collective identity that makes the U.S. military effective because it is tailored to be efficient. All the headstones in Arlington are uniform, making service members fundamentally equal in death. Yet, as civilians, we try to recreate and honor service member’s individual identity on their headstones.

Military members come from a variety of backgrounds, but they are made equal when they join the military and train to strive for a common goal. A cultural difference between military members and civilians may boil down to this distinguishing factor of identity; service members identify as a collective body that acts as one to defend the country while civilians value a sense of freedom individuality. This freedom to be an individual remains secure because of those who sacrifice their own identity to become part of system created to protect our liberties. It is difficult for non-service members, including me, to understand the sacrifice these individuals willingly make. Those who honor military members buried at Arlington often personalize the graves by leaving memorabilia: pictures, stones, trinkets, letters and buttons. It is almost as though there is a push to reaffirm the identity of the individuals by distinguishing their graves from the others around them. Though other cemeteries often have stones and flowers, Arlington has a very distinct way of decorating and recognizing the military members as individuals.

On the three-year anniversary of my friend’s death I decided to visit Arlington again in an attempt to keep my world in perspective. I decided to sit at Eric’s grave because I felt like it was the most tangible way to honor my friend who is buried back in Chicago. I decided write, and as I typed, “I feel so disconnected from all these families around me...” a woman approached me to ask if I knew Eric. Feeling like an intruder, I scrambled to explain that I did not know him. I explained that I chose Eric for my writing assignment because his grave stood out to me.

The woman welcomingly introduced herself as Nancy Szwydek explaining that she knew Eric’s family from a memorial at Camp Lejeune, where both Eric and her own son Steven trained before their deployment. Steven was 20-years old when he was killed after running over an IED in a Humvee during Operation Iraqi Freedom in October 2005. She showed me to her son’s grave. There, I met her husband Mike, and the three of us spent a few minutes speaking about a variety of things, including Arlington cemetery, military members, documentaries, and my own aspirations. Nancy reminded me to think of the military members as real people with both strengths and flaws, because this is something that is rarely done.

The Szwydek’s gave me more insights and information than could possibly fit into the margins of a paper. Nancy explained, “His body is here, but he is not,” which stood out to me as very realistic approach to her loss. As the conversation came to a close, I tried to explain how thankful I was that she approached me. I felt as though I had my first personal connection to the wars. She hugged me and gave me her contact information. She then offered Eric’s mothers contact information as well. I could not believe the chances that the grave I chose to work at would lead to this kind of experience.

I left Arlington, and the only thing that ran through my head for the next two hours was, “What just happened? How did this happen? This kind of stuff doesn’t happen.” In terms of religion, I honestly have no idea what I believe, but this was something bigger than I have ever experienced. Nancy emailed me saying that she told Eric’s mother to expect a call from me. Overwhelmed by the chain of events, I called Monica and left a voicemail. She called back a few days later and left a message, but the first time I heard her say, “I am Eric’s mom,” something came over me and I began to realize just how important it was to share this story.

When I spoke with Monica, she openly recounted her son’s life, reflecting on both his greatest qualities and his flaws. She explained that her son was not a typical teenage boy, though he still had his moments. He was a tender, wise, and calm old soul, but was also “kind of a bad ass when he had to be.” Monica laughed while sharing a story about the time when Eric gave the family couch away to a family in need without checking with his mother first. She joked, “I didn’t realize we needed a new couch, but Eric felt that they needed it more than we did, so we gave it away knowing that we could afford a new one.” Monica thinks Eric was a little bit embarrassed by his family’s economic stability compared to that of some of his friends, almost as though he felt guilty for living a comfortable life when others could not.

On Eric’s 17^th birthday, Monica picked him up from a massage. He asked her to go sign the forms so that he could enlist. Monica said it came as somewhat of a surprise. She knew he wanted to be a Marine, she just did not know he was going to go through with it. Monica asked her son about whether or not it was something he really wanted to do. She said that he was remarkably strong and that he really wanted to do well in boot camp, so he worked with a personal trainer outside of the high school athletics program. Ultimately, Eric hoped to serve for 6 years, climb to sergeant position, and head to officer school. Monica said that despite their tough appearance, every Marine is a “mommy’s boy” and Eric was no exception. After he was deployed in October of 2009, Monica kept her phone with her at all hours of the day, just in case Eric called. She would answer her phone in the middle of the night, or step out of a meeting, never missing a single call. Her devotion to her son paralleled his devotion to her.

She spoke with Eric on the phone around Christmas after seeing a YouTube video that Eric’s company made to send home over Christmas. They communicated a little over Facebook until February, 18th, when Eric sent his mom a message saying there was a “red river” which meant he could not talk about what was happening, but he would be away with his company for a while on a mission. This message included something along the lines of, “I love you. I’ll send you a message when we get back...” Eric never got back. He was killed alongside Adam Peak after his Humvee hit an IED.

After we spoke, Monica sent me a package containing 

Eric bands, pictures, programs, and trinkets to leave at 

Arlington during my next visit. 

Monica is rightfully proud of the work her son did for the Marine Corps, but she candidly explained, “No mother wants to know that his or her child is killing someone, but I am glad to know that he was really good at his job.” She said that many of the men in Eric’s company have told her that he was a notably good gunman. Eric’s company has also maintained some degree of communication with Monica through texts, phone calls, emails, and Facebook messages, just about everyday since they got back from Afghanistan. Monica suspects that her son made the company promise that if anything bad ever happened to him, they would need to take care of his mom.

Eric’s death, though tragic, has lead to a wave of inspiring events because of those committed to maintaining his legacy. From wristbands that are left in places for others to find, to care packages sent to marines stationed in the Helmand Province, Eric’s own generosity has lived on through the work of others. Eric’s family and friends have made this project possible because of an overarching ability to find light in a dark cloud. By willingly sharing his story, they have inspired others to do the same.

I am truly humbled to say that my experience at Arlington cemetery has made the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan personal. Yes, social science points researchers in a variety of different directions that lead to conclusions about how it is normal to rally around the flag, normal to be repelled by negative imagery, normal to loose faith in the government during the war, and normal to pay more attention when elites disagree... the list goes on an on. But this is not about research that analyzes war by coding articles and running linear regressions; this is about telling a story that reminds us that service members are not just numbers. We need to recognize their identities in the context of their families and what they sacrifice to keep wars from American shores. Numbers and correlations can lead to important research, but they can’t give you a personal experience. We have underestimated the power of a personal story, and I am happy to say that this experience alone has changed my perspective for the better.

Though Monica still admits that she never asked Eric, was it the fact that she was in New York during the 9/11 attacks that motivated Eric to become a Marine? It is not hard to guess that the tender, outgoing, and strong young man that Eric was would do just about anything to protect his country, and of course, as any good “mommy’s boy” Marine would, to protect his family.

                                           

- Special Thanks -

Let me begin by saying that this was an amazing experience for me. My writing skills are not nearly good enough to write the kind of story you all shared with me, but I tried my very best! Special thanks to everyone who helped me with the project by contributing stories, knowledge, passion, honesty, and or course, encouragement. Thanks to Nancy and Mike Szwydek for approaching me in Arlington Cemetery. Talking to you both inspired me to take this project to the next level and I will be forever grateful that you put me in touch with Monica McNeal. Monica, thanks for your honesty and willingness to share your story, your additions made my project so much more than I could have hoped for. I am astounded by the son you raised, but I truly admire your commitment to making the world a better place, whether it be replacing a torn flag, taking a blanket to someone in a hospital, or mailing a package full of Eric’s memory bracelets all the way across the United States to a college student. Your son gave all, but you have too, and I am sure that would have made him proud. Thanks to Molly Pannell for opening up to about her experience both before and after Eric died. I can sympathize with the loss of a friend, but I can only hope to have the ability to move forward with the same gusto that you have. I absolutely promise to always distinguish Marines as Marines and not confuse them with any other service members... ever. I’ve never felt so humbled by everyone’s willingness to share an important story, so thank you all for letting me into your lives for this moment. I hope that I have done an adequate job of telling Eric’s story. I have honestly never spent so much time trying to decide what to include and exclude in a paper. I really feel that this is the beginning of something quite incredible, whether it is another story of “whispers and winks” or a starting point for further research. Either way, I will do my best to pay it forward in honor of those who gave all.


Thanks for reading!  Please feel free to share this story if you find it compelling or interesting... all I can hope is that this story make us think a little deeper about the subject.


All in all...

Photo of the GW Hippo with an Eric band on its ear! 

This story came to me when I was bored and uninspired with my academics.  Needless to say, especially to those who have been around me the last couple of months, this has been one of the most influential experiences I’ve ever had.  The first day I met the Szwydek’s in Arlington, Nancy said, “I know you care because you wouldn’t be out here if you didn’t.” I didn’t realize how much I cared until the story was handed to me, but I’m glad it was. I’ve kept in touch with the families and friends who have helped me and they have been the most welcoming and caring people I have ever met... This project has sparked my interest in the subject to infinite and beyond and I was just hired by the Office of Veteran Services at GW to work on a really awesome video project with Sarah, my new Vet Services partner in crime! We are super excited to start our project and see where the wind blows us next…


For comments or questions, please feel free to email me at audrey.l.alexander@gmail.com