thedrifter
04-20-09, 09:01 AM
KEVIN CULLEN
A family of patriots
By Kevin Cullen, Globe Columnist | April 20, 2009
Chris Gavriel lives in Haverhill and when he drives down to Santarpio's in East Boston, it's usually for the lamb. But this day, he was there to talk about his kids, Dimitrios and Christina.
"They were a year-and-a-half apart," he said. "Christina adored her big brother."
When Chris Gavriel came here from Greece almost 40 years ago, he didn't speak a word of English, which is the only reason he didn't end up walking around the jungles of Vietnam. He got drafted, but the Army said he had to learn the language first, and by the time he did the war was over.
He and his wife, Penelope, embraced America, especially the upward mobility that education afforded. He became an aerospace engineer, she a scientist.
It was given that their kids would be high achievers. Dimi was an all-state wrestler, graduated from Brown University, and launched a career on Wall Street. Christina aced every test, got a doctorate, and became a pharmacist.
And then 9/11 happened and everything changed.
"Dimi had a lot of friends who worked in the World Trade Center," his father said. "He was on the phone with one of them, after the planes hit. He was talking to his friend when the tower fell. He heard the noise."
Later, when Dimi Gavriel stood before his father and announced he was joining the Marines, Chris Gavriel was filled with fear and dread and pride and awe, and the emotions fought with each other even as Chris Gavriel knew he could not fight with his son.
"He said, 'Dad, someone's gotta go. I can't just ask everybody else to do it.' Dimi was patriotic, but not in a gung-ho, political sense. He was very aware of the fact that this country had blessed his family. His exact words were, 'I want to give something back.' "
Dimi was 27, ancient for a Marine recruit. He dropped 40 pounds and convinced the Marines those nagging wrestling injuries were just that.
"Christina didn't want him to go. None of us did. She begged him not to go," Chris Gavriel said.
The day before he left for training on Parris Island, Dimi Gavriel got a big job offer. But by this time, you could have offered him all the money in the world. His world was not on Wall Street anymore, but with Bravo Company, First Battalion of the Eighth Marine Regiment, Second Marine Division.
When he got to Iraq, he didn't want his family to worry, so he told them he was doing logistics.
"It made sense that they'd have him work intelligence," his father said.
But nothing makes sense in war. Lance Corporal Dimitrios Gavriel, who read poetry and people's faces, chose to man a machine gun.
In July 2004, as the Marines fought to take control of Fallujah, he was shot and killed.
"You go through a range of emotions," Chris Gavriel explained. "Grief. Anger. Pride. Everything at once and everything alone. There's not a minute in my life that it's not on my mind."
He was surprised and not so surprised when Christina came to him later and said she had to do something.
She had to join the Marines.
She had to feel what her brother felt. Duty. Honor. Blisters on Parris Island. Camaraderie.
"I couldn't walk in their shoes," Chris Gavriel said of his son and daughter. "The decision they made, I couldn't make. As much as I love this country, I couldn't do it."
Corporal Christina Gavriel fixes helicopters at Camp Pendleton in San Diego, but when she calls her dad, the aerospace engineer, they don't talk shop. He tells her he loves her. That's enough.
On Patriots Day, people in these parts sleep in, or they run the marathon, or they watch others run it.
Chris Gavriel spends it remembering a son who embodied the day, and thinking of a daughter who personifies its enduring power.
Kevin Cullen is a Globe columnist. He can be reached at cullen@globe.com.
Ellie
A family of patriots
By Kevin Cullen, Globe Columnist | April 20, 2009
Chris Gavriel lives in Haverhill and when he drives down to Santarpio's in East Boston, it's usually for the lamb. But this day, he was there to talk about his kids, Dimitrios and Christina.
"They were a year-and-a-half apart," he said. "Christina adored her big brother."
When Chris Gavriel came here from Greece almost 40 years ago, he didn't speak a word of English, which is the only reason he didn't end up walking around the jungles of Vietnam. He got drafted, but the Army said he had to learn the language first, and by the time he did the war was over.
He and his wife, Penelope, embraced America, especially the upward mobility that education afforded. He became an aerospace engineer, she a scientist.
It was given that their kids would be high achievers. Dimi was an all-state wrestler, graduated from Brown University, and launched a career on Wall Street. Christina aced every test, got a doctorate, and became a pharmacist.
And then 9/11 happened and everything changed.
"Dimi had a lot of friends who worked in the World Trade Center," his father said. "He was on the phone with one of them, after the planes hit. He was talking to his friend when the tower fell. He heard the noise."
Later, when Dimi Gavriel stood before his father and announced he was joining the Marines, Chris Gavriel was filled with fear and dread and pride and awe, and the emotions fought with each other even as Chris Gavriel knew he could not fight with his son.
"He said, 'Dad, someone's gotta go. I can't just ask everybody else to do it.' Dimi was patriotic, but not in a gung-ho, political sense. He was very aware of the fact that this country had blessed his family. His exact words were, 'I want to give something back.' "
Dimi was 27, ancient for a Marine recruit. He dropped 40 pounds and convinced the Marines those nagging wrestling injuries were just that.
"Christina didn't want him to go. None of us did. She begged him not to go," Chris Gavriel said.
The day before he left for training on Parris Island, Dimi Gavriel got a big job offer. But by this time, you could have offered him all the money in the world. His world was not on Wall Street anymore, but with Bravo Company, First Battalion of the Eighth Marine Regiment, Second Marine Division.
When he got to Iraq, he didn't want his family to worry, so he told them he was doing logistics.
"It made sense that they'd have him work intelligence," his father said.
But nothing makes sense in war. Lance Corporal Dimitrios Gavriel, who read poetry and people's faces, chose to man a machine gun.
In July 2004, as the Marines fought to take control of Fallujah, he was shot and killed.
"You go through a range of emotions," Chris Gavriel explained. "Grief. Anger. Pride. Everything at once and everything alone. There's not a minute in my life that it's not on my mind."
He was surprised and not so surprised when Christina came to him later and said she had to do something.
She had to join the Marines.
She had to feel what her brother felt. Duty. Honor. Blisters on Parris Island. Camaraderie.
"I couldn't walk in their shoes," Chris Gavriel said of his son and daughter. "The decision they made, I couldn't make. As much as I love this country, I couldn't do it."
Corporal Christina Gavriel fixes helicopters at Camp Pendleton in San Diego, but when she calls her dad, the aerospace engineer, they don't talk shop. He tells her he loves her. That's enough.
On Patriots Day, people in these parts sleep in, or they run the marathon, or they watch others run it.
Chris Gavriel spends it remembering a son who embodied the day, and thinking of a daughter who personifies its enduring power.
Kevin Cullen is a Globe columnist. He can be reached at cullen@globe.com.
Ellie