Originally written in January 2005
It has taken me a while to get around to working on this website. The first few pages I wrote immediately after Dale died and they were very emotional. I stayed home alone and just thought about Dale.
Since then, I, along with the rest of my family, have been trying to “get over it” (for lack of better words) the best we can. My husband came back from Australia, and we are planning our new life in the Southern Hemisphere. Rachel, my younger sister, has school and her baby. My mom is moving as well and is trying to keep busy.
I think because Dale was away so often that it is easy to forget that he’s not on deployment. My grandmother (she’s Chinese and doesn’t speak perfect English) says, “Baby Dale still in Iraq”. And I guess that’s how I probably feel whether it’s a conscious thought or not.
Most of the time I’m okay; it’s only when I’m alone that I really think about things. For some reasons driving really seems to upset me and I almost always cry a bit when I am driving alone. I think it’s because I use driving time as my thinking time. Part of me feels guilty that I don’t think enough about Dale, but my rational side tells me that I should focus on other things.
However, it is important to me to finish this memorial to him. We have received so many letters and cards, and there is no way that we will ever thank everyone. We have also received letters from Dale’s commanding officers, explaining what Dale was like as a Marine. It is a whole different side of Dale that we never really knew.
A Marine"s Story
Jen
(Written in November 2004, immediately after Dale's death)
Dale is my baby brother and he died on Sunday. I’m not a very good writer but I want everyone to remember him. It’s hard because in my head he is still a baby I can’t really believe that this has happened. I want everyone to know who he was.
If any of you know my family you know that we are a Marine family. My father, Dale Sr., was a Marine and a Vietnam veteran. Dale always wanted to be a Marine too.Dad suffered from various health problems for most of my life, in part because he was wounded in Vietnam. His health worsened when I was eleven years old (Dale was nine). He lapsed into a coma and when he awoke two or so weeks later he had brain damage and was never the same.
This made life in our family really difficult. Mom had to take care of the three of us kids (I have a younger sister too) plus dad. Dad’s brain damage made him really difficult to deal with and be around. Dale struggled but was able to stay focused because of his dream of being a Marine.
When Dale was sixteen he left school and got his GED so he could join the Marines at age seventeen. I remember when graduated from boot camp he told me it was the happiest day of his life.
Dale was deployed three times, twice to Iraq. Until the last day he always loved being a Marine.
Reporters have told Dale’s story, similar to the one above, but that’s not really important and that’s not really how I want him remembered. Because that’s not a person’s life, that a soldier’s life, and Dale was more than a soldier. So here’s how I remember Dale.
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