thedrifter
08-18-07, 06:16 PM
TAPS offers support for grieving families
By Robert Weller - The Associated Press
Posted : Saturday Aug 18, 2007 16:24:06 EDT
FORT CARSON, Colo. — Nearly 100 children and adults met at Fort Carson on Friday to share their grief and comfort each other over the deaths of loved ones in the Iraq war.
They met under the guidance of TAPS, the Tragedy Assistants Program for Survivors, which has hosted hundreds of similar meetings for 15,000 survivors of the more than 3,700 soldiers and Marines killed in Iraq. Fort Carson has lost 219.
“Something that makes me angry is hearing the word of ‘dad,’ ” said 10-year-old Dakota Givens of Fountain. “I get stressed when other kids tease me.” Dakota’s father, Pfc. Jesse Givens, was killed May 1, 2003.
TAPS chairman Bonnie Carroll, a major in the Air Force reserve who lost her husband, Brig. Gen. Tom Carroll, in an Army plane crash in 1992, said the Good Grief Camps and Military Survivor Seminars such as those held here Friday are meant to show people ways to cope with their losses.
“The meetings create a network of support and care that I hope will carry you into the future,” Carroll told the group.
That support runs the gamut of opinions about the war, she noted.
Jocelyn Burns of Laramie, Wyo., said she never wanted her son, Kyle, to join the Marines, even though he clearly needed discipline. She tried to keep a recruiter outside her house when he came to sign up Kyle, then 17.
When Kyle returned from basic training, Burns said, “I had to tell him I was wrong about the military. He finally had direction in his life. He loved it. He thrived.”
Lance Cpl. Kyle Burns was killed by a rocket-propelled grenade on Nov. 11, 2004.
“We’re getting him back in pieces,” his mother recalled saying. “I will be crying for the rest of my life.”
More tears were shed as other stories were told. Many survivors recalled omens, in the form of dreams or other signs, that occurred before a loved one was killed.
Brad Gallup, a certified grief counselor, said TAPS is very careful with youngsters, most of whom don’t want to come because they don’t feel safe.
“They write the rules,” Gallup said. “We slowly build a container that makes them feel safe enough to go deeper and deeper into their emotions. ... Guilt comes up a lot because they are still running through a lot of anger.”
On Friday, about 30 children met separately from their parents in small groups divided by age. They made stress balls and cutouts and did other therapeutic exercises.
“I am happy when I see my dad. I am not happy when he is not here,” said Katie Staats, 8, also of Fountain, whose father, Staff Sgt. David Statts, was killed in December.
“Sooner or later you get over it,” said R.J. Turcotte, 13, who wore a bracelet bearing the name of his brother, Nick, 24, who was killed Dec. 4. “It was pretty hard.”
Turcotte made a poster of red paper to honor his brother. It said: “Sgt. Nicholas Turcotte, Feb. 16, 1983, Dec. 4, 2006.”
Bridgette Van Dusen, 30 and a military brat, said she had always known not to think too much about the fact that her husband, Brian, a Blackhawk helicopter pilot, was serving in Iraq.
“No news was good news,” she said, wearing a pin with a photo of her husband. “You ignore it until you get that knock.”
On May 9, 2003, her husband’s sister called to say the news was reporting a Blackhawk down. Van Dusen said she hadn’t heard anything. “So I ordered a pizza. Instead I got a notification.”
Van Dusen noted the eldest of her four children, Angela, is now 11, and “I wonder how long this war is going to be in their face?”
Ellie
By Robert Weller - The Associated Press
Posted : Saturday Aug 18, 2007 16:24:06 EDT
FORT CARSON, Colo. — Nearly 100 children and adults met at Fort Carson on Friday to share their grief and comfort each other over the deaths of loved ones in the Iraq war.
They met under the guidance of TAPS, the Tragedy Assistants Program for Survivors, which has hosted hundreds of similar meetings for 15,000 survivors of the more than 3,700 soldiers and Marines killed in Iraq. Fort Carson has lost 219.
“Something that makes me angry is hearing the word of ‘dad,’ ” said 10-year-old Dakota Givens of Fountain. “I get stressed when other kids tease me.” Dakota’s father, Pfc. Jesse Givens, was killed May 1, 2003.
TAPS chairman Bonnie Carroll, a major in the Air Force reserve who lost her husband, Brig. Gen. Tom Carroll, in an Army plane crash in 1992, said the Good Grief Camps and Military Survivor Seminars such as those held here Friday are meant to show people ways to cope with their losses.
“The meetings create a network of support and care that I hope will carry you into the future,” Carroll told the group.
That support runs the gamut of opinions about the war, she noted.
Jocelyn Burns of Laramie, Wyo., said she never wanted her son, Kyle, to join the Marines, even though he clearly needed discipline. She tried to keep a recruiter outside her house when he came to sign up Kyle, then 17.
When Kyle returned from basic training, Burns said, “I had to tell him I was wrong about the military. He finally had direction in his life. He loved it. He thrived.”
Lance Cpl. Kyle Burns was killed by a rocket-propelled grenade on Nov. 11, 2004.
“We’re getting him back in pieces,” his mother recalled saying. “I will be crying for the rest of my life.”
More tears were shed as other stories were told. Many survivors recalled omens, in the form of dreams or other signs, that occurred before a loved one was killed.
Brad Gallup, a certified grief counselor, said TAPS is very careful with youngsters, most of whom don’t want to come because they don’t feel safe.
“They write the rules,” Gallup said. “We slowly build a container that makes them feel safe enough to go deeper and deeper into their emotions. ... Guilt comes up a lot because they are still running through a lot of anger.”
On Friday, about 30 children met separately from their parents in small groups divided by age. They made stress balls and cutouts and did other therapeutic exercises.
“I am happy when I see my dad. I am not happy when he is not here,” said Katie Staats, 8, also of Fountain, whose father, Staff Sgt. David Statts, was killed in December.
“Sooner or later you get over it,” said R.J. Turcotte, 13, who wore a bracelet bearing the name of his brother, Nick, 24, who was killed Dec. 4. “It was pretty hard.”
Turcotte made a poster of red paper to honor his brother. It said: “Sgt. Nicholas Turcotte, Feb. 16, 1983, Dec. 4, 2006.”
Bridgette Van Dusen, 30 and a military brat, said she had always known not to think too much about the fact that her husband, Brian, a Blackhawk helicopter pilot, was serving in Iraq.
“No news was good news,” she said, wearing a pin with a photo of her husband. “You ignore it until you get that knock.”
On May 9, 2003, her husband’s sister called to say the news was reporting a Blackhawk down. Van Dusen said she hadn’t heard anything. “So I ordered a pizza. Instead I got a notification.”
Van Dusen noted the eldest of her four children, Angela, is now 11, and “I wonder how long this war is going to be in their face?”
Ellie