thedrifter
12-18-06, 07:15 AM
Proud families, friends cheer men becoming Marines
They come from across the U.S. to attend graduation ceremonies in San Diego. This year, about 18,000 recruits will make the grade.
By Tony Perry, Times Staff Writer
December 18, 2006
SAN DIEGO — Lynann Edkin of Muscatine, Iowa, scanned the young Marines a hundred yards or so away on the parade deck. All were very young and dressed in the same uniform.
Edkin was looking for her son, David Knowles, 20. The last time she had seen him was when he had left for boot camp 13 weeks earlier. Now it was graduation day.
In all, a dozen of Knowles' family members stood searching for him, most wearing bright red Marine Corps T-shirts and sweatshirts.
Finally, Edkin picked Knowles out among his fellow graduates of Alpha Company. He was thinner and a lot more serious looking.
"He looks like he needs a hug from his mom," Edkin said.
Forty-four weeks each year, in a quintessential San Diego ritual, thousands of families travel to the Marine Corps Recruit Depot to watch their sons, brothers and loved ones become Marines.
For more than eight decades, young men have been coming here to see if they are tough enough to be Marines.
This year about 18,000 will make the grade.
On this day, David Knowles was one of 541.
His family members weren't the only ones making quick assessments on first seeing their Marines.
"He looks pretty good for an old bull rider," Hadley Miller, 22, of Springerville, Ariz., who is on the professional rodeo circuit, said as he spied his brother Matthew Jack Watling, 19. "You saw him? You actually saw him? How does he look?" Kimberly Nocita, 21, of Sierra Madre, Calif., asked as the family searched for her little brother A.J., 18.
The Nocitas had found the anticipation nearly intolerable.
"I'm trying not to explode," said Debbie Nocita, A.J.'s mother.
"She started crying soon as we got in the gate," said A.J.'s father, Alan Nocita, who runs a car-racing team.
"Well, that's my baby there," Debbie Nocita said.
Soon the Marines retreated to their barracks to change into their exercise garb. The next the families saw of them was as they went past in a motivational run.
"He looks so much older, so much more mature, he looks so serious," Pam Barnes said of her nephew, Justin Krznarich, 20, of Glendale, Ariz. "He's not my little nephew anymore, he's a man."
The families, especially those of Marines headed for infantry training at Camp Pendleton, know that their loved ones could be in Iraq by late next year.
"Make no mistake, our nation is at war. Your young Marine's journey in the Marine Corps has just begun," Col. Robert Sinclair told the group.
If Iraq was not mentioned much directly beyond that, there was a good deal of talk among the family members about prayer.
"He's in God's hands now," Laurie Warren, of Georgetown, Texas, said of her son, James Crowder, 20.
"That's one thing I like about the Marines: they pray," said Wayne More, who works in the telecommunications industry and will soon be Crowder's stepfather.
"Our kids are the arrows we shoot out into the world," said Tracy Clayton, whose son, Jay, 18, was one of the graduates, and whose other son, Jeramy, has served with the Army in Iraq.
"We love them and pray that God takes care of them," said Clayton, a municipal employee in Jonesboro, Ark.
Chenoa Shutters, 17, of Joplin, Mo., was cradling her 6 month-old daughter as she watched her husband, Josh, 19, graduate.
"I'm sure God won't give us anything we can't handle," she said.
A bit of dust apparently flew into the eye of James Shafer, as his son, Michael, 19, ran by. How else to explain the tearing eye — because men don't cry.
"I'm just so proud of him," said Shafer, who works with the disabled and elderly in Tacoma, Wash.
Kay Shorter, of Mendota, Ill., said the risks and benefits of military service have to be weighed against those of civilian life.
Her eyes glistened as she glimpsed her son, Joshua, 20.
"His friends tend to party a lot, and he could get hurt or even killed doing that," she said. "At least this way he'll be doing something good."
The high point of the graduation ceremony comes when the famed Marine eagle, globe and anchor emblem is bestowed on each graduate.
The emblem, the stern-voiced first sergeant informed the crowd, is "always earned, never given."
Lynann Edkin, an insurance agent, had something of her own to bestow on her son: a plate of his favorite dessert, home-baked cookie-dough brownies.
"He's earned this too," she said as family members rushed to embrace the new Marine.
tony.perry@latimes.com
Ellie
They come from across the U.S. to attend graduation ceremonies in San Diego. This year, about 18,000 recruits will make the grade.
By Tony Perry, Times Staff Writer
December 18, 2006
SAN DIEGO — Lynann Edkin of Muscatine, Iowa, scanned the young Marines a hundred yards or so away on the parade deck. All were very young and dressed in the same uniform.
Edkin was looking for her son, David Knowles, 20. The last time she had seen him was when he had left for boot camp 13 weeks earlier. Now it was graduation day.
In all, a dozen of Knowles' family members stood searching for him, most wearing bright red Marine Corps T-shirts and sweatshirts.
Finally, Edkin picked Knowles out among his fellow graduates of Alpha Company. He was thinner and a lot more serious looking.
"He looks like he needs a hug from his mom," Edkin said.
Forty-four weeks each year, in a quintessential San Diego ritual, thousands of families travel to the Marine Corps Recruit Depot to watch their sons, brothers and loved ones become Marines.
For more than eight decades, young men have been coming here to see if they are tough enough to be Marines.
This year about 18,000 will make the grade.
On this day, David Knowles was one of 541.
His family members weren't the only ones making quick assessments on first seeing their Marines.
"He looks pretty good for an old bull rider," Hadley Miller, 22, of Springerville, Ariz., who is on the professional rodeo circuit, said as he spied his brother Matthew Jack Watling, 19. "You saw him? You actually saw him? How does he look?" Kimberly Nocita, 21, of Sierra Madre, Calif., asked as the family searched for her little brother A.J., 18.
The Nocitas had found the anticipation nearly intolerable.
"I'm trying not to explode," said Debbie Nocita, A.J.'s mother.
"She started crying soon as we got in the gate," said A.J.'s father, Alan Nocita, who runs a car-racing team.
"Well, that's my baby there," Debbie Nocita said.
Soon the Marines retreated to their barracks to change into their exercise garb. The next the families saw of them was as they went past in a motivational run.
"He looks so much older, so much more mature, he looks so serious," Pam Barnes said of her nephew, Justin Krznarich, 20, of Glendale, Ariz. "He's not my little nephew anymore, he's a man."
The families, especially those of Marines headed for infantry training at Camp Pendleton, know that their loved ones could be in Iraq by late next year.
"Make no mistake, our nation is at war. Your young Marine's journey in the Marine Corps has just begun," Col. Robert Sinclair told the group.
If Iraq was not mentioned much directly beyond that, there was a good deal of talk among the family members about prayer.
"He's in God's hands now," Laurie Warren, of Georgetown, Texas, said of her son, James Crowder, 20.
"That's one thing I like about the Marines: they pray," said Wayne More, who works in the telecommunications industry and will soon be Crowder's stepfather.
"Our kids are the arrows we shoot out into the world," said Tracy Clayton, whose son, Jay, 18, was one of the graduates, and whose other son, Jeramy, has served with the Army in Iraq.
"We love them and pray that God takes care of them," said Clayton, a municipal employee in Jonesboro, Ark.
Chenoa Shutters, 17, of Joplin, Mo., was cradling her 6 month-old daughter as she watched her husband, Josh, 19, graduate.
"I'm sure God won't give us anything we can't handle," she said.
A bit of dust apparently flew into the eye of James Shafer, as his son, Michael, 19, ran by. How else to explain the tearing eye — because men don't cry.
"I'm just so proud of him," said Shafer, who works with the disabled and elderly in Tacoma, Wash.
Kay Shorter, of Mendota, Ill., said the risks and benefits of military service have to be weighed against those of civilian life.
Her eyes glistened as she glimpsed her son, Joshua, 20.
"His friends tend to party a lot, and he could get hurt or even killed doing that," she said. "At least this way he'll be doing something good."
The high point of the graduation ceremony comes when the famed Marine eagle, globe and anchor emblem is bestowed on each graduate.
The emblem, the stern-voiced first sergeant informed the crowd, is "always earned, never given."
Lynann Edkin, an insurance agent, had something of her own to bestow on her son: a plate of his favorite dessert, home-baked cookie-dough brownies.
"He's earned this too," she said as family members rushed to embrace the new Marine.
tony.perry@latimes.com
Ellie