From my friend Melida...
Mel, This is good! It's a must read! Thank You
May PEACE be inside ALL of us,
Cindy
Speech: Scituate Citizens for Peace Concert at
Old Ship Unitarian Parish Hall, 107 Main Street, Hingham, MA
A Fundraiser for MFSO
Melida Arredondo is the stepmother of Alex Arredondo, Killed in Iraq August 25, 2004
My family's involvement in this war began the day that Alex signed up at the age of 17 to serve as a Marine. 9/11 had not happened yet since it was August 2001. As Alex left for boot camp, we were drafted too. Alex wrote many letters. I can still hear his voice when I read them. There are two particular letters that I recall due to both their innocence and predictions.
One he wrote midway through boot camp. In it he asks for his Dad and me to send him information on the Middle East. It's September of 2002 when he wrote. "Please send information about Afghanistan, Saudi Arabia, Iran, Iraq. We get very little amounts of info down here. But I have heard some little things here and there about conflicts, war, deployments, etc. Thanx...Love you Alex..."
The next letter is from January 19, 2003 written on a ship on the way to Kuwait. He would enter Iraq in the first wave. Alex hadn't traveled much as a child. He remarked that, "This seems so unreal to me. I've never seen water this Blue before, I've never looked 360 degrees around me and seen nothing but water ... clouds, the sun and a fleet of battleships surrounding me." He goes on to write "This is hard for me to comprehend. It seems like my whole life changed in an instant. Yesterday, I was in a classroom learning about Trigonometry and History...Now I'm being sent across the world to fight, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, on my way to experience 1st hand what I am learning about. I am not afraid of dying. I am more afraid of what will happen to all the ones that I love if something happens to me."
With the certainty of war looming at the beginning of 2003, my family was split apart at the seams. My husband was visiting our family in Costa Rica. He flew back on the first day of the war, and I was unsure if he would even be allowed back into the country. Brian and I would spend time together often. He and I would talk about how nervous he was about Alex's going into battle. I remember that his hands were always sweating due to nervousness.
Alex returned home to Boston September of 2003 after serving nine full months in the Middle East. He surprised us all one day by showing up to our home in Roslindale without notice. I was so happy; I was crying, laughing and definitely going to faint. Alex caught me in a big bear hug and lifted me up off the ground. I was truly left speechless.
I thought the nightmare was over. Christmas of 2003 was a happy one. Brian, Alex, Alex's girlfriend Sheila, my husband and I ate turkey and exchanged gifts. On my right hand, I wear that last Christmas gift that Alex gave me: a ring that says "Amor" or love in Spanish.
On January 3, 2004, Brian, Carlos and I took Alex to the airport to head back to Pendleton. It was the last time that his father and I would see him alive again. Though there were so many phone calls, when Alex came home to Boston in May of 2004, we were en route to Hollywood, Florida. The family had decided that relocation was a good idea. The boys' Mom had already relocated to Maine the year before. Alex liked the idea since his buddies Crespo and Garza were from the same area of Florida. He hoped to visit during those days on leave so he could see us and hang out with his Marine brothers. There was too little time and he never made it.
On August 25, 2004, I woke to get ready for work as usual and had heard that three Marines had been killed in Najaf. I turned off the radio and opted not to tell Carlos the news since it was his birthday. I prayed for Alex and set about my day.
When Carlos called me that afternoon at work, I went to pieces. It took all of my will to drive home. As I turned onto my street, I saw a fire. I was perplexed and realized that the fire was in front of my house. There was a man, obviously burnt with a Marine sitting on his back holding him down with a shirt covering his face. It was Carlos. Soon, helicopters were overhead and reporters were hounding us. My Mother-in-law and I went to the ER to be with Carlos and then to the Ryder Trauma Center in Miami where we stayed most of that night.
The next morning, a car came to pick me up, and I appeared on Good Morning America providing them an update as to my husband's condition. The last thing that Charlie Gibson allowed me to say before they cut me off was that "This war has got to stop."
We traveled to Boston by air with a paramedic at Carlos' side. He attended Alex's wake, the funeral mass, and traveled to the gravesite on a stretcher with two paramedics, a catheter in place, and in extreme physical pain. We rode in an ambulance instead of a black limousine.
The realities of war for all Gold Star families DEFINITELY DO NOT END the day that you lay that family member to rest.
Though a sniper shot the bullet that killed Alex, the true assassins are the ones who are recklessly sending our young men and women into battle in vehicles left over from the Korean War, without body armor and without sufficient ammunition or food. This past New Year's Eve, the Marine who was with Alex when he was killed communicated with me. He told me that he held Alex in his arms as the blood bled out of the helmet. He told me that Alex died with his green eyes open. He shared with me that the troops who had cleared all four floors of that hotel in Najaf ran out of ammunition. After three hours of battle, Alex and the Marines were on the roof of the hotel with no bullets to defend themselves when Alex was shot squarely in the left temple.
Some reporters have asked what I would say to the president if I had the chance? Honestly, I have no interest in meeting the commander in chief who has taken the presidency of my country hostage. My husband and I have much more interest in speaking directly to the citizens and residents of the USA so that we can share about Alex's life and his death. We want the public to share our grief and aid us in changing the direction of this country so that the war ends.
At 2:30 pm today, 3095 troops had been reported as US fatalities in Iraq. As a member of Military Families Speak Out, I know the parents of other troops who have come home. Many destroyed resulting in their taking their own lives.
1. 23-year-old SPC Jason Cooper from Iowa came home from Iraq in 2005. He hung himself four months later.
2. 23-year-old Thomas J. Sweet II from North Dakota took his life in 2003 while serving in Iraq. He was promoted to Sergeant posthumously.
3. Massachusetts native Jeffrey Michael Lucey on June 22, 2004 hanged himself in the basement of his Belchertown home.
I add 3 to the total of those troops reported by the Department of Defense. As I meet the families of other troops who have taken their lives, my count increases.
There is no right or wrong way to grieve. In order to continue living (and there are days I don't want too), I push myself to do more of this work. I have a full time job at a clinic, and I dedicate 35 hours weekly minimum working towards ending the war. Then, I am wife, stepmother, daughter, dog owner and just me.
My husband has begun his own Share the Grief Tour by displaying a flag draped coffin to his pick-up truck and hitting the highway. Within the past ten days, he has toured Philadelphia, Washington DC and New York City. He's the only man I know who is happy on the highway in traffic jams.
The Luceys have dedicated themselves to fighting the archaic laws of the military and the Veteran's administration so that those troops who make it home intact physically will also have a means to treat what's left of their sanity. Their story is featured in, "The Ground Truth", a film I recommend you should see.
I know of other activists who raise money through bake sales to buy body armor for the troops, another dedicates her time to freeway blogging – or putting up highly visible signs in places that are hard to take down, and of course, there is that famous lady who decided to Camp Out in the ditch in front of W's house.
There's a saying that idle hands are the work of the devil. The values of this country are mythic legend at this point when elections are tampered with, the results of elections are dismissed, and wiretapping and acceptable torture is acceptable. This administration is promulgating the rape of democracy. I say, apathy is no longer an option.
A week ago today, I was one of the 1/2 million people who protested for peace in DC. At this hour, I sat in a room with two-dozen men and women who had lost their kids or spouses in Iraq. There, we did our planning to keep other military families from joining our club.
I speak for many when I say that I am sick and tired of war! Everyday it's in the news! The casualty-count goes higher and higher. Yet, in the midst of this never-ending tragedy of Alex's death, I see a rainbow or full moon and remember his smile. I have met the troops and love them whether they are gung ho for it or protesting the war. I selfishly ask for a hug when I can so I can remember Alex's own warmth.
Other military and gold star families are sick and tired of having the president say that if "the US pulls out, then the fallen troops would have died in vain." Bush-shit! My stepson, Alex Arredondo, went back on his second tour despite wanting to stay home. Why? Because he wanted to protect his brothers in arms so they could come home too! Alex is dead physically but his spirit of self-sacrifice to honor and aid others lives on. Why? Because Alex was born and bred in the USA and these values are what we learn as Americans. You never leave your buddies behind!
Bring them home now; take care of them when they get here and never, ever let this happen again!
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