thedrifter
08-29-04, 07:25 AM
Charlie Co. Marine renounces lurid past
Submitted by: MCRD San Diego
Story Identification #: 2004827111627
Story by Lance Cpl. Jess Levens
MARINE CORPS RECRUIT DEPOT SAN DIEGO, Calif. (August 27, 2004) -- Uncle Ron turned his back on the argument and walked into the bedroom.
Jim and his 12-year-old stepson Johnny didn't know what to make of it. Moments later, Ron re-entered the living room with a .38-caliber pistol. Without a word, he shot Jim in the throat. He took a shot at Johnny and then shot himself in the head.
Bloodied, Jim stood up, grabbed the pistol and staggered outside. Johnny, unscathed, followed to see his step-dad throw the gun onto the lawn and collapse into his own blood. The boy's mother was already running down the street, screaming hysterically. Johnny held Jim until his last breath.
The boy has since transformed into Pvt. Johnny Gordan of Company C. He left behind his past of tragedy and tribulation to become one of the proud few.
Hard times have haunted Gordan as long as he can remember, he said. The 18-year-old was born into a drug-infested neighborhood in Roswell, N.M., and his family was an equal fraction of the corruption that surrounded him.
"Ever since I can remember, my parents always partied," said Gordan. "The drugs kept them from having any real life, and it was screwing up us kids."
Being the most responsible one in the house, preteen Gordan did the best he could to look after his younger siblings, Paul and Me-Lisa. Suddenly, something snapped in his parents' minds, and they decided to clean up their acts.
"It was out of nowhere," recalled Gordan. "I think they saw what their habits were doing to us. They didn't want us to end up that way."
Determined to start anew, Gordan's mom and step-dad moved the family to Ruidoso, N.M., and opened an auto body shop. Life got progressively better. The shop brought in nearly $420,000 annually, Gordan said. His parents stayed drug-free, and his grandparents moved in. But Lady Luck still kept an unknown grudge.
"Two years after we moved, my grandfather got really sick," said Gordan. "We hospitalized him. He got really bad. He even hallucinated."
After Gordan's grandfather was hospitalized, his grandmother suddenly died.
"There was no explanation," said Gordan. "The doctors said it was old age. Her death made it worse for my grandfather."
Gordan's family wasn't able to support his grandfather or his medical problems. They still had a business to run and kids to feed.
With no other choice, Jim called Uncle Ron in Las Vegas and asked him if he and his wife could take care of grandpa.
Ron jumped at the chance, a little too eagerly, said Gordan, who felt uneasy about the situation.
"They didn't take care of him," Gordan scoffed. "He stole from him. Ron tortured that poor, old man. Ron didn't feed him, or change his diapers. He left him to rot."
Ron was stealing money from the old man's bank account, partially to support his growing drug habit. Jim noticed some odd things. Ron suddenly had much nicer things than he could afford, and his drug problem became more obvious.
Jim checked with the bank and his suspicions were accurate. He decided to confront Ron about the money and the drug problem.
"Dad wasn't too upset about the money," said Gordan. "It made him mad, but he was more worried about Uncle Ron's drug problem."
The intervention scaled into a heated argument. That's when Uncle Ron turned his back on the argument, walked into the bedroom and returned with a gun.
"My dad died in my arms," said Gordan. His glasses fogged up as a tear streamed down his cheek. "Jim wasn't my real dad, but he's the only father I ever knew. Do you know what that does to a 12-year-old boy? Do you know what that does to a wife and mother?"
Gordan didn't even know what the tragedy would do to his mother. She slipped into a vast depression, aloof and disconnected. She looked for comfort in strangers, not in her children. Gordan said her promiscuity made him sick.
The unhealthy lifestyle gripped Gordan's mother, and she almost quit trying, he said.
"She used to paint cars at the body shop," Gordan said. "She was good. She usually made about $15 an hour, but eventually, she just stopped working."
With no money in a town of bad memories, Gordan's mom packed up and what was left of the shattered family turned to a nomadic lifestyle. California, Colorado, Texas, Arizona. She moved the family in search of intangible peace.
"We got to Prescott Valley, Ariz., and my mom met Jaime," said Gordan. "He was all right - or so I thought."
Jaime attached himself to the family like a leech. He reintroduced Gordan's mom to drugs, and they eventually lost their home.
"After that, we lived in a tent for three weeks," said Gordan. "We took turns; three slept in the tent, one in the truck."
Jaime saved up some money and moved the family into a double-wide trailer.
"The trailer was nice," said Gordan. "It had two bathrooms and a Jacuzzi. But of course, my mom and Jaime blew their money on drugs and partying, so we lost the trailer."
Gordan was 14 when his mother looked outside at an empty driveway. Her truck was gone, and so was Jaime. A few days later, police located the truck outside a bar in Winslow, Ariz. They never heard from Jaime again. Like before, the family had no money, no home and virtually no hope. They moved back to Ruidoso.
"At this point, I had enough," said Gordan. "I moved in with my friend Tres Burgess III. His parents adopted me, which was great for a while."
The clean, normal life Gordan dreamed of was soiled again. Burgess' father began to play favorites. He dedicated his time and love to his biological children, and he took out his frustrations on Gordan by constantly making him do manual labor and housework. Gordan was not allowed to go out with his friends. He was even discouraged from his newest passion: football. The all-state defensive end said he had no other choice.
"I emancipated myself when I was 16," said Gordan. "I was treated like a slave there. It was no better than living with my real family."
Gordan attended school and worked full-time to support himself until he was 17; at that age, he was old enough to join the Marine Corps Delayed Entry Program.
"I've wanted to be a Marine since seventh grade," said Gordan. "I've always seen the Corps as a way to make a life for myself."
When Gordan joined Platoon 1085 for recruit training, despite the virulent atmosphere, he learned a very important lesson: not everyone would leave him high and dry. People do care, and true friendship and camaraderie exist.
"When Gordan got here, the other drill instructors and I could tell he had problems," said Staff Sgt. Alex L. Vallete, one of Gordan's drill instructors. "He was always quiet. When we found out about his past, we knew he needed us. He needed the Marine Corps."
Gordan said throughout the three months he's been here, his drill instructors and platoon mates have helped nurse his wounds.
"This is helping me become the man I want to be," said Gordan. "I've become disciplined, and I've learned how to manage my time and money. I also have a new family - a better family."
Gordan said he decided to forsake his biological family in exchange for his new life.
"I will never see my mother again," said Gordan. He rubbed his tear-stung eyes. Haunted still or not, a private can only go up.
http://www.usmc.mil/marinelink/image1.nsf/Lookup/2004827111849/$file/09recruit01_lr.jpg
Pvt. Johnny Gordan has forsaken a distraught life for a new beginning in the Marine Corps. Photo by: Lance Cpl. Jess Levens
http://www.usmc.mil/marinelink/image1.nsf/Lookup/2004827112015/$file/09recruit02_lr.jpg
Death and vagabondage afflicted Johnny Gordan before he became a private in the Marine Corps. He graduates today with Platoon 1085. Photo by: Lance Cpl. Jess Levens
http://www.usmc.mil/marinelink/mcn2000.nsf/main5/8F7395E24E8C8F9A85256EFD0053E771?opendocument
Ellie
Submitted by: MCRD San Diego
Story Identification #: 2004827111627
Story by Lance Cpl. Jess Levens
MARINE CORPS RECRUIT DEPOT SAN DIEGO, Calif. (August 27, 2004) -- Uncle Ron turned his back on the argument and walked into the bedroom.
Jim and his 12-year-old stepson Johnny didn't know what to make of it. Moments later, Ron re-entered the living room with a .38-caliber pistol. Without a word, he shot Jim in the throat. He took a shot at Johnny and then shot himself in the head.
Bloodied, Jim stood up, grabbed the pistol and staggered outside. Johnny, unscathed, followed to see his step-dad throw the gun onto the lawn and collapse into his own blood. The boy's mother was already running down the street, screaming hysterically. Johnny held Jim until his last breath.
The boy has since transformed into Pvt. Johnny Gordan of Company C. He left behind his past of tragedy and tribulation to become one of the proud few.
Hard times have haunted Gordan as long as he can remember, he said. The 18-year-old was born into a drug-infested neighborhood in Roswell, N.M., and his family was an equal fraction of the corruption that surrounded him.
"Ever since I can remember, my parents always partied," said Gordan. "The drugs kept them from having any real life, and it was screwing up us kids."
Being the most responsible one in the house, preteen Gordan did the best he could to look after his younger siblings, Paul and Me-Lisa. Suddenly, something snapped in his parents' minds, and they decided to clean up their acts.
"It was out of nowhere," recalled Gordan. "I think they saw what their habits were doing to us. They didn't want us to end up that way."
Determined to start anew, Gordan's mom and step-dad moved the family to Ruidoso, N.M., and opened an auto body shop. Life got progressively better. The shop brought in nearly $420,000 annually, Gordan said. His parents stayed drug-free, and his grandparents moved in. But Lady Luck still kept an unknown grudge.
"Two years after we moved, my grandfather got really sick," said Gordan. "We hospitalized him. He got really bad. He even hallucinated."
After Gordan's grandfather was hospitalized, his grandmother suddenly died.
"There was no explanation," said Gordan. "The doctors said it was old age. Her death made it worse for my grandfather."
Gordan's family wasn't able to support his grandfather or his medical problems. They still had a business to run and kids to feed.
With no other choice, Jim called Uncle Ron in Las Vegas and asked him if he and his wife could take care of grandpa.
Ron jumped at the chance, a little too eagerly, said Gordan, who felt uneasy about the situation.
"They didn't take care of him," Gordan scoffed. "He stole from him. Ron tortured that poor, old man. Ron didn't feed him, or change his diapers. He left him to rot."
Ron was stealing money from the old man's bank account, partially to support his growing drug habit. Jim noticed some odd things. Ron suddenly had much nicer things than he could afford, and his drug problem became more obvious.
Jim checked with the bank and his suspicions were accurate. He decided to confront Ron about the money and the drug problem.
"Dad wasn't too upset about the money," said Gordan. "It made him mad, but he was more worried about Uncle Ron's drug problem."
The intervention scaled into a heated argument. That's when Uncle Ron turned his back on the argument, walked into the bedroom and returned with a gun.
"My dad died in my arms," said Gordan. His glasses fogged up as a tear streamed down his cheek. "Jim wasn't my real dad, but he's the only father I ever knew. Do you know what that does to a 12-year-old boy? Do you know what that does to a wife and mother?"
Gordan didn't even know what the tragedy would do to his mother. She slipped into a vast depression, aloof and disconnected. She looked for comfort in strangers, not in her children. Gordan said her promiscuity made him sick.
The unhealthy lifestyle gripped Gordan's mother, and she almost quit trying, he said.
"She used to paint cars at the body shop," Gordan said. "She was good. She usually made about $15 an hour, but eventually, she just stopped working."
With no money in a town of bad memories, Gordan's mom packed up and what was left of the shattered family turned to a nomadic lifestyle. California, Colorado, Texas, Arizona. She moved the family in search of intangible peace.
"We got to Prescott Valley, Ariz., and my mom met Jaime," said Gordan. "He was all right - or so I thought."
Jaime attached himself to the family like a leech. He reintroduced Gordan's mom to drugs, and they eventually lost their home.
"After that, we lived in a tent for three weeks," said Gordan. "We took turns; three slept in the tent, one in the truck."
Jaime saved up some money and moved the family into a double-wide trailer.
"The trailer was nice," said Gordan. "It had two bathrooms and a Jacuzzi. But of course, my mom and Jaime blew their money on drugs and partying, so we lost the trailer."
Gordan was 14 when his mother looked outside at an empty driveway. Her truck was gone, and so was Jaime. A few days later, police located the truck outside a bar in Winslow, Ariz. They never heard from Jaime again. Like before, the family had no money, no home and virtually no hope. They moved back to Ruidoso.
"At this point, I had enough," said Gordan. "I moved in with my friend Tres Burgess III. His parents adopted me, which was great for a while."
The clean, normal life Gordan dreamed of was soiled again. Burgess' father began to play favorites. He dedicated his time and love to his biological children, and he took out his frustrations on Gordan by constantly making him do manual labor and housework. Gordan was not allowed to go out with his friends. He was even discouraged from his newest passion: football. The all-state defensive end said he had no other choice.
"I emancipated myself when I was 16," said Gordan. "I was treated like a slave there. It was no better than living with my real family."
Gordan attended school and worked full-time to support himself until he was 17; at that age, he was old enough to join the Marine Corps Delayed Entry Program.
"I've wanted to be a Marine since seventh grade," said Gordan. "I've always seen the Corps as a way to make a life for myself."
When Gordan joined Platoon 1085 for recruit training, despite the virulent atmosphere, he learned a very important lesson: not everyone would leave him high and dry. People do care, and true friendship and camaraderie exist.
"When Gordan got here, the other drill instructors and I could tell he had problems," said Staff Sgt. Alex L. Vallete, one of Gordan's drill instructors. "He was always quiet. When we found out about his past, we knew he needed us. He needed the Marine Corps."
Gordan said throughout the three months he's been here, his drill instructors and platoon mates have helped nurse his wounds.
"This is helping me become the man I want to be," said Gordan. "I've become disciplined, and I've learned how to manage my time and money. I also have a new family - a better family."
Gordan said he decided to forsake his biological family in exchange for his new life.
"I will never see my mother again," said Gordan. He rubbed his tear-stung eyes. Haunted still or not, a private can only go up.
http://www.usmc.mil/marinelink/image1.nsf/Lookup/2004827111849/$file/09recruit01_lr.jpg
Pvt. Johnny Gordan has forsaken a distraught life for a new beginning in the Marine Corps. Photo by: Lance Cpl. Jess Levens
http://www.usmc.mil/marinelink/image1.nsf/Lookup/2004827112015/$file/09recruit02_lr.jpg
Death and vagabondage afflicted Johnny Gordan before he became a private in the Marine Corps. He graduates today with Platoon 1085. Photo by: Lance Cpl. Jess Levens
http://www.usmc.mil/marinelink/mcn2000.nsf/main5/8F7395E24E8C8F9A85256EFD0053E771?opendocument
Ellie