thedrifter
09-04-03, 08:06 AM
A daughter retraces her Marine father's steps in Vietnam
August 31,2003
CAROLYN ALFORD
Jacksonville Daily News
Hello neighbor. It is good to see you here.
Debra Andrews Hopkins is a war orphan. Her father, Major Clifton B. “Andy” Andrews, USMC, died July 25, 1966 in Vietnam when she was 12. Major Andrews was an F-4 phantom jet pilot who had just been made Commanding Officer of his unit. As CO, he had to be checked out in all the aircraft so he decided at the last minute to board a C-117 cargo plane that was taking off from Danang airport. His plan was to fly as co-pilot on the trip back.
A young enlisted man got up to give Major Andrews the jump seat. The plane rose about 100-feet and crashed on the runway killing everyone in the front of the aircraft. According to the investigative report that Debra got 20 years ago, her father did not die immediately. He could be heard moaning in the tangled wreckage but the survivors could not get him out because they did not have the proper equipment. Debra remembers that was one of Major Andrews’s frustrations in his letters home, that he could not provide his men with the equipment they needed to do their job. The report said that the cause of the crash was that the battens were not removed from the ailerons so that the flaps could operate.
Debra’s family stayed in Beaufort, SC. Her mother never remarried and she finished high school and graduated from the University of South Carolina with a teaching degree. She taught for a while and then began a job doing management training. It was in Atlanta where she met her husband Terry and married him 11 years ago.
“I always knew there was a big hole, there was a piece missing,” Debra said of her father’s death. “I became painfully aware of it when I saw my husband do things with my daughter. I thought how incredibly lucky she is. You forget what it is like to have a father, you wonder if he was a real person or not, if he existed.”
About six years ago, Debra began looking for a Vietnam veteran online who might have known her dad. It was there that she found the website for the Sons and Daughters in Touch, an organization of sons and daughters who lost fathers in the Vietnam War. In 1997, Debra attended the First Marine Airwing Association reunion in Beaufort, SC. She met a man there who knew her father. He gave her a photo of his father promoting him in Danang. It was not long after that she saw that SDIT was planning a trip back to Vietnam.
“I always knew in my spirit that I would go,” she said.
The trip for 80 people was planned for March 1 through March 18. It was the largest group of people every to return to a war zone to pay homage to service members who had died there. The group did some site seeing and then broke up into groups to begin visiting the sites where their dads had died. Major Andrews’s site was the last one the group visited. Debra read this tribute to her father during the March 12 ceremony:
“I remember the day I fell in love with my daddy. I was about 10 years old. He put a 33 on the hi-fi and danced a jitterbug with my Mom as my sister, brothers and I laughed and giggled. He danced with my sister and when it was my turn, he told me to stand on top of his feet. As he led me around the room, I fell utterly in love with the strongest and happiest man I knew.
“My dad was a poor little barefoot boy from Alabama who had to pick cotton to earn money for shoes. He was afraid of the dark when he was little and so was pampered as the youngest of 11 children. As a man, he stood tall at 5-feet 6-inches so his family called him ‘Peanut.’ People loved to be around him because he was such a happy, bubbly person. We would beg him to sing saying ‘Oh Daddy, you sound just like Bing Crosby.’ What I wouldn’t give to hear him sing about that old buttermilk sky one more time.
Daddy loved Chet Atkins and considered the Beatles’ haircuts and abomination. He loved cartoons like Foghorn Leghorn and Wiley Coyote. His favorite TV show was ‘Gomer Pyle’ because Gomer was a poor country boy who enlisted in the Marine Corps and did his job to the best of his ability. He periodically conducted inspections of our dresser drawers and clothes closets and if they weren’t up to specs, believe me, they would be by the end of the day.
“He enlisted in the Marine Corps on July 25, 1945 when he was 18. He went to boot camp at Parris Island the through the enlisted ranks and on to night school and Officers’ Candidate School. He was the only person in his family to obtain a college degree. He had to work with a math tutor to get through school. My mother was pushing me in a stroller the day my father soloed in Pensacola, FL. The other pilots called him ‘granddad’ because he was so much older.
“In 1965, we went on a family vacation to Montreal, Canada. Before my dad left, he told his brothers that he would not be returning home. I’ve often thought about his premonition of death and our trip to Canada. I wonder about the struggle he endured.
“Before going overseas, my dad had to have a good fitness report so he came home every night and ran for miles. He would collapse on the living room floor and all four of us, ages 3 to 13, rubbed and massaged his legs, arms and back. We loved him with all the strength we had.
“He was killed on July 25, 1966 in an aircraft accident at Danang airbase. He died exactly 21 years to the day after he enlisted. I was deeply distressed to learn that he did not die immediately.
“In the few days that we have been here in Vietnam, I have come to the conclusion that this stunningly beautiful country was worth fighting for and the warm, friendly and gracious Vietnamese people were worth dying for. After years of trying to push the grief away, I finally accepted that it will never be all right that I lost my daddy. And today, it is all right with me that it will never be all right.
“As each of you before me has shared your grief and your loss, I wailed into God’s universe with you. When my wail felt and touched your wail of sorrow, my burden lifted bit by bit. Thank you for helping me. To those of you who did not know your fathers, you were and would have been the apple of his eye. To all the veterans and support persons who have been here for us, there are no words to describe the gratitude I feel. Thank you for serving your country alongside my father.
“Since my father supported an orphanage on China Beach, I would like to give the gifts I brought to an orphanage in the vicinity. Once, when my father heard my brother say he hated someone he’d had a fight with, my father said, ‘I don’t think you want to hate anyone son. It doesn’t solve anything. It’s better to talk these things out with each other. Try never to hate.’
“The three roses in the sand represent the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost. For those who would like to, please join me in singing ‘Amazing Grace.’ Amazing grace how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost but now am found, was blind but now I see.”
Debra said she loved the trip because it broke the silence. For the first time, she could talk about her dad with people who understood her grief and conflicting emotions.
“I was proud of my dad and yet I felt ashamed because of what was going on with the media coverage and the protest marches. I don’t feel that anyone who does their job for their country should ever feel ashamed. That is one of the legacies of the Vietnam War. It just created a lot of silence.”
Debra cannot wait to go back to Vietnam. Following in her father’s footsteps, she is working to raise money to help the children in the Danang Street Kids orphanage. Termites have eaten all their beds; they have two teddy bears between 28 children and no mattresses. Debra hopes to make a difference in the lives of the people that her father gave his life for.
“I will always miss my daddy,” Debra said. “It is not as intensely painful as it has been but I will have always needed and missed him. I feel more connected. I feel these are the people my father was willing to die for because his country asked him to. It all makes sense and it has come together. None of it was in vain, none of the names on the wall died in vain.”
Anyone who would like to share their journey from the Vietnam War with Debra or help the children at Danang Street Kids orphanage can contact Debra at debrahop@mindspring.com. SDIT is available online at www.sdit.org.
Thank you for coming.
http://www.jacksonvilledailynews.com/SiteProcessor.cfm?Template=Details.cfm&StoryID=15658&Section=Columns
Sempers,
Roger
:marine:
August 31,2003
CAROLYN ALFORD
Jacksonville Daily News
Hello neighbor. It is good to see you here.
Debra Andrews Hopkins is a war orphan. Her father, Major Clifton B. “Andy” Andrews, USMC, died July 25, 1966 in Vietnam when she was 12. Major Andrews was an F-4 phantom jet pilot who had just been made Commanding Officer of his unit. As CO, he had to be checked out in all the aircraft so he decided at the last minute to board a C-117 cargo plane that was taking off from Danang airport. His plan was to fly as co-pilot on the trip back.
A young enlisted man got up to give Major Andrews the jump seat. The plane rose about 100-feet and crashed on the runway killing everyone in the front of the aircraft. According to the investigative report that Debra got 20 years ago, her father did not die immediately. He could be heard moaning in the tangled wreckage but the survivors could not get him out because they did not have the proper equipment. Debra remembers that was one of Major Andrews’s frustrations in his letters home, that he could not provide his men with the equipment they needed to do their job. The report said that the cause of the crash was that the battens were not removed from the ailerons so that the flaps could operate.
Debra’s family stayed in Beaufort, SC. Her mother never remarried and she finished high school and graduated from the University of South Carolina with a teaching degree. She taught for a while and then began a job doing management training. It was in Atlanta where she met her husband Terry and married him 11 years ago.
“I always knew there was a big hole, there was a piece missing,” Debra said of her father’s death. “I became painfully aware of it when I saw my husband do things with my daughter. I thought how incredibly lucky she is. You forget what it is like to have a father, you wonder if he was a real person or not, if he existed.”
About six years ago, Debra began looking for a Vietnam veteran online who might have known her dad. It was there that she found the website for the Sons and Daughters in Touch, an organization of sons and daughters who lost fathers in the Vietnam War. In 1997, Debra attended the First Marine Airwing Association reunion in Beaufort, SC. She met a man there who knew her father. He gave her a photo of his father promoting him in Danang. It was not long after that she saw that SDIT was planning a trip back to Vietnam.
“I always knew in my spirit that I would go,” she said.
The trip for 80 people was planned for March 1 through March 18. It was the largest group of people every to return to a war zone to pay homage to service members who had died there. The group did some site seeing and then broke up into groups to begin visiting the sites where their dads had died. Major Andrews’s site was the last one the group visited. Debra read this tribute to her father during the March 12 ceremony:
“I remember the day I fell in love with my daddy. I was about 10 years old. He put a 33 on the hi-fi and danced a jitterbug with my Mom as my sister, brothers and I laughed and giggled. He danced with my sister and when it was my turn, he told me to stand on top of his feet. As he led me around the room, I fell utterly in love with the strongest and happiest man I knew.
“My dad was a poor little barefoot boy from Alabama who had to pick cotton to earn money for shoes. He was afraid of the dark when he was little and so was pampered as the youngest of 11 children. As a man, he stood tall at 5-feet 6-inches so his family called him ‘Peanut.’ People loved to be around him because he was such a happy, bubbly person. We would beg him to sing saying ‘Oh Daddy, you sound just like Bing Crosby.’ What I wouldn’t give to hear him sing about that old buttermilk sky one more time.
Daddy loved Chet Atkins and considered the Beatles’ haircuts and abomination. He loved cartoons like Foghorn Leghorn and Wiley Coyote. His favorite TV show was ‘Gomer Pyle’ because Gomer was a poor country boy who enlisted in the Marine Corps and did his job to the best of his ability. He periodically conducted inspections of our dresser drawers and clothes closets and if they weren’t up to specs, believe me, they would be by the end of the day.
“He enlisted in the Marine Corps on July 25, 1945 when he was 18. He went to boot camp at Parris Island the through the enlisted ranks and on to night school and Officers’ Candidate School. He was the only person in his family to obtain a college degree. He had to work with a math tutor to get through school. My mother was pushing me in a stroller the day my father soloed in Pensacola, FL. The other pilots called him ‘granddad’ because he was so much older.
“In 1965, we went on a family vacation to Montreal, Canada. Before my dad left, he told his brothers that he would not be returning home. I’ve often thought about his premonition of death and our trip to Canada. I wonder about the struggle he endured.
“Before going overseas, my dad had to have a good fitness report so he came home every night and ran for miles. He would collapse on the living room floor and all four of us, ages 3 to 13, rubbed and massaged his legs, arms and back. We loved him with all the strength we had.
“He was killed on July 25, 1966 in an aircraft accident at Danang airbase. He died exactly 21 years to the day after he enlisted. I was deeply distressed to learn that he did not die immediately.
“In the few days that we have been here in Vietnam, I have come to the conclusion that this stunningly beautiful country was worth fighting for and the warm, friendly and gracious Vietnamese people were worth dying for. After years of trying to push the grief away, I finally accepted that it will never be all right that I lost my daddy. And today, it is all right with me that it will never be all right.
“As each of you before me has shared your grief and your loss, I wailed into God’s universe with you. When my wail felt and touched your wail of sorrow, my burden lifted bit by bit. Thank you for helping me. To those of you who did not know your fathers, you were and would have been the apple of his eye. To all the veterans and support persons who have been here for us, there are no words to describe the gratitude I feel. Thank you for serving your country alongside my father.
“Since my father supported an orphanage on China Beach, I would like to give the gifts I brought to an orphanage in the vicinity. Once, when my father heard my brother say he hated someone he’d had a fight with, my father said, ‘I don’t think you want to hate anyone son. It doesn’t solve anything. It’s better to talk these things out with each other. Try never to hate.’
“The three roses in the sand represent the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost. For those who would like to, please join me in singing ‘Amazing Grace.’ Amazing grace how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost but now am found, was blind but now I see.”
Debra said she loved the trip because it broke the silence. For the first time, she could talk about her dad with people who understood her grief and conflicting emotions.
“I was proud of my dad and yet I felt ashamed because of what was going on with the media coverage and the protest marches. I don’t feel that anyone who does their job for their country should ever feel ashamed. That is one of the legacies of the Vietnam War. It just created a lot of silence.”
Debra cannot wait to go back to Vietnam. Following in her father’s footsteps, she is working to raise money to help the children in the Danang Street Kids orphanage. Termites have eaten all their beds; they have two teddy bears between 28 children and no mattresses. Debra hopes to make a difference in the lives of the people that her father gave his life for.
“I will always miss my daddy,” Debra said. “It is not as intensely painful as it has been but I will have always needed and missed him. I feel more connected. I feel these are the people my father was willing to die for because his country asked him to. It all makes sense and it has come together. None of it was in vain, none of the names on the wall died in vain.”
Anyone who would like to share their journey from the Vietnam War with Debra or help the children at Danang Street Kids orphanage can contact Debra at debrahop@mindspring.com. SDIT is available online at www.sdit.org.
Thank you for coming.
http://www.jacksonvilledailynews.com/SiteProcessor.cfm?Template=Details.cfm&StoryID=15658&Section=Columns
Sempers,
Roger
:marine: