Let me begin with something we all know, but sometimes forget.
Firefighters run into burning buildings when everyone else
is busy running out; that's what makes them special.
Last week, nine firefighters died in South Carolina. To honor them, many states lowered flags to half-staff. The memorial service was held in a packed 9,000-seat arena. Thousands of firefighters came to pay their respects. There has never been a memorial like this before in Charleston. Many who attended called the memorial amazing. They also said they never want to see another like it.
"The procession was 12 miles long, and to see the people standing on top of rooftops and standing on overpasses and waving, tears coming down their face - it was impressive," said FDNY Firefighter Scott Roland of Engine 283 in Brooklyn. "All the people we looked at coming down the road had tears coming down their faces, men, women, kids. It really touched these people."
That brings me to something else we all know, but sometimes forget...
A lot of people have died in Iraq. Since that deadly fire on Monday, June 18th, at least 30 US soldiers and 2 British soldiers have been killed. At least 150 Iraqis also died during the same period of time. That's not counting the insurgents or people labeled as "suspected insurgents" by the military. Unlike the Charleston tragedy, the death toll in Iraq will continue to climb. Between the time I write this and the time you read it, another name will be added to the list.
Unfortunately, most of the dead won't get black bunting and long funeral processions. They won't get televised memorial services. They won't have a commanding officer declare, "The challenge is that we'll never forget." Outside of local reports, they barely even get news coverage.
We won't see images of their flag draped coffins. We won't see the faces of their children staring blankly into space. We won't see the spouses left behind bravely trying to keep their knees from buckling. We won't see the grieving parents sitting quietly in church trying to fill the holes in their hearts.
And slowly...surely...inevitably... we will forget. Just like we forget that many of the soldiers and Marines who died in Iraq so far were also firefighters.
This raises an important question: How will we remember these brave men and women?
Men like Christian Engeldrum, the first New York firefighter to die in Iraq. Engeldrum was a five-year fire veteran who previously served as a police officer. He was one of the firefighters who responded to the World Trade Center attacks and spent months digging through the rubble at Ground Zero. Engeldrum is survived by his wife and two sons.
Men like Michael Schwarz of Carlstadt, NJ. Schwarz and his older brother served in the borough's volunteer fire department, which was headed for years by their father. In a small town of 6,000 people this sort of loss takes a toll. "You couldn't go anywhere today without seeing someone visibly upset," said Mayor William Roseman. "The community as a whole will grieve over this." As a sign of respect, the mayor ordered flags flown at half-staff for a week.
Women like Meredith Howard of Wuakesha, WI. Howard held undergraduate and master's degrees in marine biology. When she discovered she was prone to seasickness, she switched careers and became a firefighter in Bryan, Texas, becoming the city's first female firefighter in 1978. At 52, she became the oldest female U.S. soldier killed in action since military operations began in Afghanistan and Iraq. She is survived by her husband.
Men like Brandon Webb of Swartz Creek, MI. His tour almost up, he had plans to work alongside his mother as a firefighter at the Swartz Creek Fire Department like he had in the past. "I always had the philosophy that as long as I didn't see the Marine Corps pull up in my driveway or get a call from Red Cross, I knew he was OK," she said. The day she dreaded since her son became a Marine finally arrived. Webb was the fourth serviceman with ties to Swartz Creek to die in Iraq.
Men like Tristan Smith of Bryn Athyn, PA. He was only 23, but had risen to the rank of Lieutenant in the Bryn Athyn Fire Company. He had been a volunteer since he was 16. Smith is survived by his father, mother, two sisters, and a brother.
Men like Jeremy Loveless of Boring, OR. He was a medic in Iraq and a firefighter with the Estacada Rural Fire District. In fact, he moved to Estacada so he could be a firefighter. That was his chosen career path. Joining the Army was a way to pay for paramedic training, and secure a future for his young family. He died on Memorial Day. 25-year old Loveless left behind a wife and 4-year old daughter.
Men like Thomas Barbieri of Gaithersburg, MD. He was a local firefighter with the Rockville Volunteer Fire Department. He's the reason I write this now. I had forgotten the morning I drove past the firehouse and saw it draped in black bunting. As there had been no news of a firefighter's death, I assumed it was hung in memory of a firefighter long since retired. Later, when I read the local paper, I learned that was not true. Barbieri was only 24. He is survived by his father, mother, and three brothers.
Men like Chris Dill of Buffalo, NY. When his body arrived back in Buffalo, his casket was carried from the airport by Engine 21, and thousands of local residents lined the route. He is survived by his parents and his wife -- his sweetheart since elementary school.
Men like Charles Wells of Montgomery, AL. He could have returned with his reserve unit when they finished their second tour, but he chose to stay for a third. He was also a recruit with the Orange County Fire Rescue Department in Orlando, Florida. Wells had finished training as an EMT and was about to begin training as a firefighter when he went to Iraq. "He was in the top 1 percent of the recruits that we hire," Capt. David Hall said. "He was top-notch." Wells is survived by his wife and daughter.
Men like Lance Tanner Graham of San Antonio, TX. Known by fellow firefighters for his brute strength, Graham also had a gentle side. While deployed to Iraq, he’d been corresponding as a pen pal with a third-grade class. Instead of writing the class a letter, though, Graham wrote back to individual students.
Men like Brian Conner a firefighter in Baltimore, MD. He was laid to rest the day the death toll in Iraq officially reached the 2,000 milestone. He is survived by his mother and 10-year old daughter.
Men like William Lee Bailey III of Omaha, NE. A five-year veteran of the Bellevue Fire Department. He went to Iraq with the Nebraska National Guard's 755th Chemical Company. Chemical companies are typically involved in surveying and evacuating areas that may have been chemically contaminated. His unit, like many others, had been retrained to perform security missions. Bailey was part of a group providing security for convoys in Iraq. Bailey and his wife had a blended family of five children, three of whom lived with them in Bellevue.
Men like Wilfredo Urbino, a firefighter from Baldwin, NY. He lived with his family directly behind the firehouse he worked in for six years. His loss is etched deep in the hearts of friends and family. The city renamed the street his parents live on after him. Years after his death, friends still visit his online memorial and leave messages for him and his family.
Men like Jeffrey Weiner, an eleven-year veteran and captain of Tally-Ho Engine Company No. 3 in Lynbrook, KY. Wiener was buried in Calverton National Cemetery. Ten ladder trucks dotted the entrance to the cemetery, with American flags hanging between two extended ladders forming a fitting archway for a fallen hero. Wiener leaves behind his wife and high-school sweetheart, as well as their two daughters.
Men like Richard Febbi, a firefighter from Butler, NJ. The note left by one friend at his memorial said it better than I ever could, "Thanks for the dream last night. I could actually hear your voice."
And finally, Larry Parks of Altoona, PA. He died in Iraq the same day as the Charleston tragedy. Parks had been a volunteer firefighter at the Newburg Fire Hall for eight years. He had been in Iraq for 38 days. He was only 24. Parks is survived by his mother, three sisters, and his brother.
Unfortunately, the forgetting has already claimed some who leave only their names and little else to remember them by:
John Kukick - Centre Square Fire Company Whitpain Twp,
Brian Dunlap - Camp Pendleton Fire Station 8B,
Brian Wright - Keensburg-Beall Woods Vol Fire Dept, IL,
Jason Hasenauer - Monroe County Fire and Rescue, NY, and
Jeffery J. Farrow - Birmingham Fire & Rescue
Faced with the pernicious forgetting, I noticed a common sign of respect often mentioned in the stories. Firehouses and local governments routinely lower their flag to half-staff in honor of their fallen comrade. This reminded me of a letter written by Staff Sargeant Jim Wilt, shortly after the tragic shootings at Virginia Tech. Wilt is stationed in Afghanistan.
"I find it ironic that the flags were flown at half-staff for the young men and women who were killed at VT, yet it is never lowered for the death of a U.S. service member," Wilt wrote.
He noted that Bagram obeyed U.S. President George W. Bush's order that all U.S. flags at federal locations be flown at half-staff through to honor 32 people killed at Virginia Tech by a 23-year-old student gunman who then killed himself.
"I think it is sad that we do not raise the bases' flag to half-staff when a member of our own task force dies," Wilt said.
Sgt. Wilt raises an interesting point. The regulations for flying the flag are very clearly written. Here is a portion of the regulations regarding the flying of the flag at half-staff:
...By order of the President, the flag shall be flown at half-staff upon the death of principal figures of the United States Government and the Governor of a State, territory or possession, as a mark of respect to their memory. In the event of the death of other officials or foreign dignitaries, the flag is to be displayed at half-staff according to Presidential instructions or orders, or in accordance with recognized customs or practices not inconsistent with law. In the event of the death of a present or former official of the government of any State, territory, or possession of the United States, the Governor of that State, territory, or possession may proclaim that the National flag shall be flown at half-staff.
The fact is there is no provision for the President to order the flying of the flag as he did for the victims at Virginia Tech. By doing that, he has opened the door for others to decide how this symbol should be lawfully applied. As Sgt. Wilt correctly noted, many governors have previously ordered the flag flown at half-staff in honor of service members killed in Iraq. That makes this a recognized custom and practice not inconsistent with law.
In that spirit, I propose the following act of protest:
Every day an American service member dies in Iraq,
we should display the flag at half-staff.
This is an action we can take as individuals. We don't have to wait for someone to instruct us. It can be done in our yards, in our homes, or even online. If you want to add this memorial protest to your site, blog, diary, or email, feel free to cut and paste the following link:
img src = "http://img233.imageshack.us/img233/8001/flaghaf2xv5.gif"
We are not merely honoring the flag and those who have fallen in service to this nation when we take this action. We are also admonishing the President by letting him know that we have not forgotten the consequences of his madness. We are declaring in the most unequivocal manner possible that we refuse to let our memory fall victim to his Dark Art of Forgetting.