thedrifter
12-02-06, 07:10 AM
Women revive a club no one wants to join
Gold Star Mothers lost children in war
Saturday, December 2, 2006
By MIKE BARBER
P-I REPORTER
ALGONA -- Four mothers from around the Seattle area, driven by a powerful bond, drew together here on a recent Sunday.
They lit memorial candles, set up a small potluck while the aroma of their baking cookies filled the kitchen of the Filipino American community center. The cars they had parked outside hinted at their sisterhood:
Decals with a gold star on a field of white, trimmed in red.
Myra Rintamaki, Shellie Starr, Linda Swanberg and DeEtte Wood are among the founding mothers of Washington State Gold Star Mothers, a resurrection of the organization for mothers of U.S. troops killed in war. Most chapters faded away after the Vietnam War.
After dwindling over the decades, the sacrifices in modern wars have created a new need for the club that no one wants to belong to.
"When we looked around we found there was no local group," said Rintamaki, the group's president. Her son, Marine Cpl. Steven Rintamaki, 21, was killed in Iraq on Sept. 16, 2004.
"We started calling each other as somebody died, then decided to get together and formalize," Rintamaki said.
Made up so far mostly of Marine moms, the group is reaching out to gather those from this state whose children served in other branches of the military.
"This is our first anniversary," Rintamaki said.
The chapter recently filed papers to become a non-profit corporation, after meeting informally once a quarter in the past year.
Its purpose is to nurture and support each other as well as family members, restore some fun, extend comfort that only Gold Star moms can understand and tackle an occasional issue, such as post-traumatic stress disorder, said Starr, a Snohomish resident.
Her son, Marine Cpl. Jeff Starr, 22, was killed Memorial Day 2005 in Ramadi, on his third deployment to Iraq.
"It's kind of weird to make friends with people who the only thing we have in common is that our sons are dead," Starr said.
"We're trying to find that new sense of normality," Rintamaki added.
"We don't get over it," said Wood of Kirkland. "We learn to live with it."
Her son, Marine Lance Cpl, Nathan Wood, 19, was killed Nov. 9, 2004, in Fallujah, Iraq.
On this day, the Gold Star moms are multitasking like, well, moms, hustling about baking batches of cookies and packing red stockings to take to injured members of the armed forces at Madigan Army Medical Center. A few relatives and friends ventured out in the storm to help. Later, in private, they will sit and talk, as well as laugh and cry, about things only they can understand.
"It sort of changes your heart," Rintamaki said of a loss in war, looking up as she pressed peanut butter cookies into small circles.
"One of the things not understood well in the social service arena is (the effect upon families of a loss from) tragic combat death," she said.
"If you go to a grief counselor, in general, the death is treated as over and done. With us, our sons were far from home. It took a while for their bodies to come back. All the people who should be grieving with you and for you, some are still fighting in Iraq," she said.
And the fate of those people, their children's brothers- and sisters-in-arms still serving in war, are now more intensely felt as part of an extended family, she said.
"My heart is still over in Ramadi with the guys who are still over there," said Swanberg, also a Kirkland resident. Her son, Marine Lance Cpl. Shane Swanberg, 24, was killed in Ramadi, Iraq, on Sept. 15, 2005.
"I just sent a package to a Web site that sends packages called anysoldier.com. That's how I heal," she said.
"Suffering the grief of the combat death is so much different. Other people seem to want to be removed from your reality. It's awesome for us to be able to bring everything to each other here. Nothing seems crazy or off the wall," she said.
"When we phone each other, we usually ask, 'How are you?' " Swanberg said.
"Then we say, 'Oh fine.' "
"And then we say, 'Not really.' "
As they buzzed about this Sunday afternoon, the women joked with and doted upon Marine Sgt. Jonathan Coffey, 25, who looked as if he could have been a son.
A Tacoman based at Fort Lewis with the Marine Corps' 4th Landing Support Group, Coffey is among that unit's active-duty members who work with casualty officers and serve as honor guards.
Coffey, a 7 1/2-year veteran, wore his dress blues and rendered military honors at the funerals at which moms like those in the Algona kitchen tearfully received the flags covering their sons' coffins.
Loyal to the fallen Marines and admiring their families' resiliency, Coffey began donating his time to help Gold Star moms.
Coffey said he was affected by the funeral of Marine Pfc. Cody Calavan, 19, of Lake Stevens, killed May 29, 2004, in Iraq. It was his first Marine funeral.
"He was 19, I was 22. It was the first time it had happened to a guy younger than me," Coffey recalls. "I've done 10 funerals since."
Appreciating Coffey's commitment, the Gold Star moms nominated him in the Marine Corps Times newspaper's annual Marine of the Year competition this year.
Coffey was a runner-up.
"We're all his mom," Swanberg said.
Outside the kitchen, candles lit a table flanked by an American flag. Photos of some of the fallen lined the table, as well as some books recently published about coming home from war or the war in Iraq.
Wood picked one, "We Were One," by Patrick O'Daniel, about the battle for Fallujah in November 2005. On the photo pages she finds one of her son, Nate.
"Only one from his fire team came back," Wood said, noting photos of two others killed alongside her son. "I've been in touch with their moms."
Signatures line the inside of the hardcover, where those who lived signed it for her three weeks ago at Camp Pendleton, Calif.
"We are all gatherers of information," Swanberg said. "Since the deaths of our sons we have been trying to get past it, but I want to read more. ... It's insatiable, a searching for pieces."
They sifted autopsy reports and sought answers. Were there last words? Was his death peaceful and quick?
"We just want to know. It doesn't give you anything but knowing," Wood said
Often, Swanberg said, "it is through extraordinary efforts that we learn how our sons died."
She learned fairly recently. At first, she recalls, all she knew was that her son, who died only 10 days after arriving in Ramadi, had been killed by "indirect fire from a mortar."
"It was 7 in the morning. I was trying to picture his day," Swanberg said.
Through a chain of circumstance and compassion, a mortuary assistant who dressed her son's body found Swanberg and told her what she wanted to know.
Swanberg had gone to breakfast from his quarters and was returning. He was holding two bowls of cereal, one at the request of another Marine who needed to tend to some personal business.
"He was just standing there holding the bowls when the mortar round came in," she says. "There was a giant explosion, three feet away from Shane."
She feels for the Marine who asked her son to wait with his bowl. He was riddled with guilt.
Those who tended to her son told her he looked peaceful and died instantly. The mortuary assistant recalled even laying out her son's personal items, his watch and ring with the black band. He told her "of the 51 casualties he worked on, there were five he would always remember and your son is one of them."
He has. "On the anniversary of Shane's death, (the mortuary assistant) sent me flowers," Swanberg said.
Other family members are welcome to participate. On this Sunday some cousins ventured out. The group, which usually meets in each other's homes, found that dads seem to go their own way. "We're thinking of starting a 'Dad's corner' if a newsletter is born," Rintamaki said.
Siblings tend not to want to join.
"A lot of Gold Star siblings stay in touch in an informal way. ... A lot of Gold Star siblings suffer in silence," said Wood, touching on a topic often discussed.
The group intends to speak up when it feels the need but not to become political activists, Wood said.
"We're not in the Cindy Sheehan group," she said, referring to the mother of a soldier who became an outspoken critic of the Bush administration and the war.
"But none of us support war, although we want to support the troops," she said.
"We would prefer that this doesn't happen to any other family."
HOW TO HELP
The Washington State Gold Star Mothers are reaching out to other Gold Star Mothers, as well as accepting a limited amount of donations allowed under non-profit regulations.
For information, contact Myra Rintamaki or Shellie Starr at:
myrar@u.washington.edu
bsnohomish@aol.com
In addition, a buffet dinner fundraiser to build a climbing wall in memory of Marine Cpl. Jeff Starr at the Snohomish Boys & Girls Club is slated for 7 p.m. Tuesday at Mardini's Restaurant, 101 Union Ave. in Snohomish, 360-568-8080.
P-I reporter Mike Barber can be reached at 206-448-8018 or mikebarber@seattlepi.com.
Ellie
Gold Star Mothers lost children in war
Saturday, December 2, 2006
By MIKE BARBER
P-I REPORTER
ALGONA -- Four mothers from around the Seattle area, driven by a powerful bond, drew together here on a recent Sunday.
They lit memorial candles, set up a small potluck while the aroma of their baking cookies filled the kitchen of the Filipino American community center. The cars they had parked outside hinted at their sisterhood:
Decals with a gold star on a field of white, trimmed in red.
Myra Rintamaki, Shellie Starr, Linda Swanberg and DeEtte Wood are among the founding mothers of Washington State Gold Star Mothers, a resurrection of the organization for mothers of U.S. troops killed in war. Most chapters faded away after the Vietnam War.
After dwindling over the decades, the sacrifices in modern wars have created a new need for the club that no one wants to belong to.
"When we looked around we found there was no local group," said Rintamaki, the group's president. Her son, Marine Cpl. Steven Rintamaki, 21, was killed in Iraq on Sept. 16, 2004.
"We started calling each other as somebody died, then decided to get together and formalize," Rintamaki said.
Made up so far mostly of Marine moms, the group is reaching out to gather those from this state whose children served in other branches of the military.
"This is our first anniversary," Rintamaki said.
The chapter recently filed papers to become a non-profit corporation, after meeting informally once a quarter in the past year.
Its purpose is to nurture and support each other as well as family members, restore some fun, extend comfort that only Gold Star moms can understand and tackle an occasional issue, such as post-traumatic stress disorder, said Starr, a Snohomish resident.
Her son, Marine Cpl. Jeff Starr, 22, was killed Memorial Day 2005 in Ramadi, on his third deployment to Iraq.
"It's kind of weird to make friends with people who the only thing we have in common is that our sons are dead," Starr said.
"We're trying to find that new sense of normality," Rintamaki added.
"We don't get over it," said Wood of Kirkland. "We learn to live with it."
Her son, Marine Lance Cpl, Nathan Wood, 19, was killed Nov. 9, 2004, in Fallujah, Iraq.
On this day, the Gold Star moms are multitasking like, well, moms, hustling about baking batches of cookies and packing red stockings to take to injured members of the armed forces at Madigan Army Medical Center. A few relatives and friends ventured out in the storm to help. Later, in private, they will sit and talk, as well as laugh and cry, about things only they can understand.
"It sort of changes your heart," Rintamaki said of a loss in war, looking up as she pressed peanut butter cookies into small circles.
"One of the things not understood well in the social service arena is (the effect upon families of a loss from) tragic combat death," she said.
"If you go to a grief counselor, in general, the death is treated as over and done. With us, our sons were far from home. It took a while for their bodies to come back. All the people who should be grieving with you and for you, some are still fighting in Iraq," she said.
And the fate of those people, their children's brothers- and sisters-in-arms still serving in war, are now more intensely felt as part of an extended family, she said.
"My heart is still over in Ramadi with the guys who are still over there," said Swanberg, also a Kirkland resident. Her son, Marine Lance Cpl. Shane Swanberg, 24, was killed in Ramadi, Iraq, on Sept. 15, 2005.
"I just sent a package to a Web site that sends packages called anysoldier.com. That's how I heal," she said.
"Suffering the grief of the combat death is so much different. Other people seem to want to be removed from your reality. It's awesome for us to be able to bring everything to each other here. Nothing seems crazy or off the wall," she said.
"When we phone each other, we usually ask, 'How are you?' " Swanberg said.
"Then we say, 'Oh fine.' "
"And then we say, 'Not really.' "
As they buzzed about this Sunday afternoon, the women joked with and doted upon Marine Sgt. Jonathan Coffey, 25, who looked as if he could have been a son.
A Tacoman based at Fort Lewis with the Marine Corps' 4th Landing Support Group, Coffey is among that unit's active-duty members who work with casualty officers and serve as honor guards.
Coffey, a 7 1/2-year veteran, wore his dress blues and rendered military honors at the funerals at which moms like those in the Algona kitchen tearfully received the flags covering their sons' coffins.
Loyal to the fallen Marines and admiring their families' resiliency, Coffey began donating his time to help Gold Star moms.
Coffey said he was affected by the funeral of Marine Pfc. Cody Calavan, 19, of Lake Stevens, killed May 29, 2004, in Iraq. It was his first Marine funeral.
"He was 19, I was 22. It was the first time it had happened to a guy younger than me," Coffey recalls. "I've done 10 funerals since."
Appreciating Coffey's commitment, the Gold Star moms nominated him in the Marine Corps Times newspaper's annual Marine of the Year competition this year.
Coffey was a runner-up.
"We're all his mom," Swanberg said.
Outside the kitchen, candles lit a table flanked by an American flag. Photos of some of the fallen lined the table, as well as some books recently published about coming home from war or the war in Iraq.
Wood picked one, "We Were One," by Patrick O'Daniel, about the battle for Fallujah in November 2005. On the photo pages she finds one of her son, Nate.
"Only one from his fire team came back," Wood said, noting photos of two others killed alongside her son. "I've been in touch with their moms."
Signatures line the inside of the hardcover, where those who lived signed it for her three weeks ago at Camp Pendleton, Calif.
"We are all gatherers of information," Swanberg said. "Since the deaths of our sons we have been trying to get past it, but I want to read more. ... It's insatiable, a searching for pieces."
They sifted autopsy reports and sought answers. Were there last words? Was his death peaceful and quick?
"We just want to know. It doesn't give you anything but knowing," Wood said
Often, Swanberg said, "it is through extraordinary efforts that we learn how our sons died."
She learned fairly recently. At first, she recalls, all she knew was that her son, who died only 10 days after arriving in Ramadi, had been killed by "indirect fire from a mortar."
"It was 7 in the morning. I was trying to picture his day," Swanberg said.
Through a chain of circumstance and compassion, a mortuary assistant who dressed her son's body found Swanberg and told her what she wanted to know.
Swanberg had gone to breakfast from his quarters and was returning. He was holding two bowls of cereal, one at the request of another Marine who needed to tend to some personal business.
"He was just standing there holding the bowls when the mortar round came in," she says. "There was a giant explosion, three feet away from Shane."
She feels for the Marine who asked her son to wait with his bowl. He was riddled with guilt.
Those who tended to her son told her he looked peaceful and died instantly. The mortuary assistant recalled even laying out her son's personal items, his watch and ring with the black band. He told her "of the 51 casualties he worked on, there were five he would always remember and your son is one of them."
He has. "On the anniversary of Shane's death, (the mortuary assistant) sent me flowers," Swanberg said.
Other family members are welcome to participate. On this Sunday some cousins ventured out. The group, which usually meets in each other's homes, found that dads seem to go their own way. "We're thinking of starting a 'Dad's corner' if a newsletter is born," Rintamaki said.
Siblings tend not to want to join.
"A lot of Gold Star siblings stay in touch in an informal way. ... A lot of Gold Star siblings suffer in silence," said Wood, touching on a topic often discussed.
The group intends to speak up when it feels the need but not to become political activists, Wood said.
"We're not in the Cindy Sheehan group," she said, referring to the mother of a soldier who became an outspoken critic of the Bush administration and the war.
"But none of us support war, although we want to support the troops," she said.
"We would prefer that this doesn't happen to any other family."
HOW TO HELP
The Washington State Gold Star Mothers are reaching out to other Gold Star Mothers, as well as accepting a limited amount of donations allowed under non-profit regulations.
For information, contact Myra Rintamaki or Shellie Starr at:
myrar@u.washington.edu
bsnohomish@aol.com
In addition, a buffet dinner fundraiser to build a climbing wall in memory of Marine Cpl. Jeff Starr at the Snohomish Boys & Girls Club is slated for 7 p.m. Tuesday at Mardini's Restaurant, 101 Union Ave. in Snohomish, 360-568-8080.
P-I reporter Mike Barber can be reached at 206-448-8018 or mikebarber@seattlepi.com.
Ellie