Jimmy was a 2nd Lieutenant serving in Viet Nam. Every day he told his people that they were doing a needed service, that they were appreciated and necessary to the cause of world freedom. Every day for more than a year he pumped them up and led their spirits through the hell in which they lived. On his last day in-country, his Sergeant drove him to the helipad to begin his trip home. Jimmy turned to him and said, "Tell them, Sarge, that they need to be here, that they are appreciated and wanted here, that their efforts are important." With that he turned, ran to the waiting helicopter, and boarded. Then the rocket hit. One of Jimmy's dog tags was found later, when the wreckage cooled off enough for a search.

Jimmy was the last son in his father's line. There was no one to carry on the family name, no one to attend his father's funeral, no one to care for his aged mother. And when I visit his grave, there is no one there. Jimmy never stuck around long enough to locate, always out doing something good for someone. Can I hear him somewhere now...? "We belong here, we are needed and appreciated, let's get this job done..." Jimmy is still hard to catch up to, but given time, we'll see each other again.

J Poynter
Davis, California