In 2006, realizing the ongoing wars in Iraq and Afghanistan were not going to end anytime soon, editors at The Tuscaloosa News began looking for a way to put a more personal spin on reporting these wars. We wanted to bring the experience home in such a way that our readers would be able to connect with what was going on halfway around the world.
The idea we liked best was to develop a series of profiles on the Alabama servicemen and women who had died since Sept. 11, 2001, when the active War on Terror began. The goal would be to bring the statistics to life by giving our state’s casualties a human face. Rather than simply learning each individual’s name, rank and serial number, readers would have the opportunity to get to know these troops, in terms of their hopes and dreams, what they loved to do and what made them special.
As Features Editor at the time, I immediately volunteered to be the one to write these profiles. It seemed a natural fit – I was a mother, and my only child was a soldier who had been right in the middle of one of the wars.
I had endured my own version of the emotional havoc experienced by families of service members who are in harm’s way. My son was part of the invading forces sent into Iraq on March 19, 2003. For weeks, I had no idea where he was or what he was doing until I heard from a reporter who was embedded with my son’s unit and had spoken with him.
A few months later, my son was back safely in Germany where he was stationed and was able to fly to Georgia in time for his wedding in July that year. We were lucky, and we knew it. But I never forgot those endless days of pure terror when my son was beyond my reach. I had a hard time sleeping or thinking clearly for fear of what could happen. It was a miserable time.
Though families of the fallen experienced far worse pain and grief than I could fathom, I could unequivocally empathize with the devastation they faced when the knock on the door came. The very least I could do was make sure each lost hero was remembered, acknowledged and honored.
For the most part, families were glad to talk to me. They wanted us to remember their loved ones, to let the world know how funny or smart their little boy or girl was. They appreciated the chance to talk about their fallen warriors and the difference they made to people in their lives.
I cried with the family members and friends mourning their lost soldiers. As they shared stories about their sons or daughters growing up, I often envisioned my own son’s childhood and teenage years.
And then I wrote the stories. My heart ached with each one, but over and over I told myself that my sadness was nothing compared with the anguish these fallen warriors’ families suffered.
When The Tuscaloosa News began the Fallen Warriors series in late 2006, 39 Alabama troops had lost their lives. By the time the series ended in 2009, the number had reached nearly 100. The latest toll stands at 143. The impact on Alabama has been huge.
The average age of the men and women who lost their lives is 28 with the vast majority (91) in their 20s. Six were still in their teens. Three were in their 50s, 14 in their 40s and 29 in their 30s. Most of the older troops were career military.
More than 122 children, 55 of them under the age of 5, lost a father or mother. Another seven lost a grandparent. Twenty-three of the children were between 6 and 9; 28 were pre-teens or teens and 11 were adults.
At least five Alabama children were born after their father was killed.
More than a dozen of the troops who died were only children.
May they all rest in peace and forever be remembered for making the ultimate sacrifice.