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thedrifter
01-26-08, 07:36 AM
Always on his mind

By CAROL ROBIDOUX
New Hampshire Union Leader Staff

RONNY POTTER JR. is having a reunion today. A group of Merrimack High School alumni and Marine war buddies from around the country will spend the day at Last Rest Cemetery in Merrimack, toasting to mutual friendship and brotherhood with some Miller Lites, singing Timmy Gibson's favorite song a little too loud and slightly off key.

"God Bless the U.S.A." was one of those songs that resonated with guys like Potter and Gibson -- classmates since the fifth grade, both naturally competitive and fiercely patriotic.

It was the song playing the day Potter and Gibson graduated boot camp together at Parris Island in 2001. It was part of the looping sound track that echoed in their heads as they landed in Iraq in November of 2004 and fought side-by-side in the bloody Battle of Fallujah.

If Potter closes his eyes and lets the music take him over, he can still find his way to another place and time, where death has no power over the living.

"Not a day goes by that I don't think about him," said Potter. "I always feel like he's here. I have dreams and wake up convinced I could go down the street and see him again."

Gibson was killed three years ago today when the CH-53E Super Stallion transport helicopter he was riding in floundered in a sand storm and crashed in the remote Iraqi desert. Although the two were deploying to the same mission -- overseeing elections in Al Anbar province -- they were assigned separate helicopters for the flight out of Fallujah.

"Just before we left, as the helicopters landed, I ran over to Timmy and gave him a hug and told him I loved him," Potter said. "That's the last time I saw him alive."

The story of their friendship reads like a buddy movie script -- born 18 days apart in July of 1981, fate tossed them into the same fifth grade class. Their instant bond was sealed with all the awkward, glorious stuff of 10-year-old boyhood. But somewhere deep down both boys sensed it was the beginning of a once-in-a-lifetime kinship.

"Everyone I knew took to him. Only, I was the lucky one who happened to be his best friend -- he was more of a brother than a friend," Potter said. "The kind of guy who'd do anything for you. And by that, I don't mean just me -- he was that way with everyone."

In high school, Gibson quarterbacked for Merrimack's Tomahawks, while Potter played center. After high school, Gibson tried college on for size.

Potter followed his heart in another direction.

"It was always in the back of my mind that I'd join the Marines. I was raised in a very patriotic family to have very patriotic values," Potter said.

Harder than breaking the news to his family, was telling his best friend.

"Actually, part of me knew he was going to come with me, even before I told him," Potter said. "He said, 'What's that look on your face?' And I told him I was going to boot camp. His exact words to me were, 'When are we leaving?' The two of us drove together, that night, and joined the Marines buddy program."

Although the buddy program only guarantees you'll stay with a friend through boot camp, the two ended up being stationed together at Kaneohe Bay in Hawaii.

They arrived at the base Sept. 10, 2001, and remained roommates through several deployments. In 2003, then they found out they were shipping out to Iraq together.

"I was wounded the first day we were there, but we reunited a few days later, and we got through that whole thing," Potter said.

It was during the heaviest days of battle that Potter bore witness to the full meaning of their Marine Corps motto, Semper Fidelis -- "always faithful."

"A building had been hit and was about to collapse. Timmy heard a kid inside, one of our fellow Marines, yelling for help. He'd broken his leg and couldn't get out," Potter said.

"Timmy ran across the street, through enemy fire, and dragged him out of that burning building. Looking back now, I realize he was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice, even before it happened to him."

Reuniting each year at the cemetery with mutual friends is comforting. It's something tangible Potter can do for Gibson.

"There are still a lot of things I can't do. I can't drive by his house. I don't go to football games. Even going to his grave -- it took me about six months after being home to get there," Potter said. "It's getting easier -- but it will always be hard."

Ellie