I went to the mail box this past Saturday and was surprised to find a large envelope sent from the Afghanistan. Inside the envelope was this 3-69 AR BN Certificate of Appreciation from the battalion commander and the command sergeant major.
A huge thank you goes out to the scores of friends who helped with the fundraising drive a few months ago, and the people who are contributing to the current effort. As you can see from the certificate linked above, your contributions are greatly appreciated.
If you haven’t given to the 3-69 AR BN and would like to, here is how. . .
send a check made out to:
Friends of Speed and Power
3-69 AR BN
Attn: LT Yamin
515 Warrior Road, Bldg 648
Fort Stewart, GA 31314
The funds raised will help defray the costs for the welcome home baskets for single soldiers and go toward the other welcome home events.
Thank you for supporting our troops!
The color guard moves forward during the Casing of the Colors for the 3-69 AR at Fort Stewart, October 2012.
Time flies by. Two years ago I was gearing up for graduation weekend at The Citadel. My graduate is now a first lieutenant in the US Army and on his first deployment.
Two years ago I had no idea I would still be in regular contact with parents of current cadets. Once I posted the information for Citadel Parents to this blog I thought that would be it. Parents could find the information and I would move on to other activities. I was wrong.
What I didn’t expect were the emails and phone calls from Citadel parents. By the spring of 2012 I found it was easier to answer the questions of new parents by posting a Facebook group for parents of the class of 2016. A few friends who are now parents of graduates joined the page too. The group grew. It now boosts over 300 members. A group for the class of 2017 parents is now up and running.
Once your cadet gets through the first year at The Citadel you can volunteer with the Citadel Family Association. It is a great way to help other new families learn the ins and outs of having a cadet at The Military College of South Carolina. It is also a terrific way to make friends. This blog is just one way to learn about The Citadel experience. Any number of parents of current cadets can help answer questions as well. The Citadel Family Association is a great place to find supportive parents.
Next week I will travel to Charleston to be with a few of my Citadel Ya Ya sisters, and visit with a number of families with graduating cadets. In a way I feel like a distant aunt to some of these cadets. Little did I know in 2007 when my son matriculated I would become good friends with the parents of his fellow cadets. And I never would have guessed that I would reunite with an old high school friend from New Jersey.
One day four years ago I received an email asking if I was the same Dorie Griggs who went to Sparta High school. The note was from Gwen, a friend with whom I spent many a weekend with in high school. Who would have guessed that thirty years after leaving high school in New Jersey we would be reunited in South Carolina at The Citadel. Her oldest son is now a graduating senior and will begin his training in the US Army and Gwen will be a Blue Star mother.
Next week I will enjoy being a spectator at the annual rite of passage from cadet to graduate during the Long Gray Line parade. I’ll spend time catching up with good friends and meeting some of the parents I only know through Facebook.
Padgett-Thomas Barracks at The Citadel photo by Stanley Leary
Recently on one of the Citadel parent Facebook groups I was referred to as Dorie-pedia because I help Citadel parents find information. I have never really had a nickname. (at least none that people called me to my face!) My given name is usually a nickname.
It really is a compliment that parents think I can help provide answers, but the truth is, I just know my way around search windows. Some of the parent questions I can answer from first hand experience, but a lot of my answers come directly from The Citadel website.
I learned early on that at this military school most policies are documented and easily found on the web site. All the training modules are posted on the Office of the Commandants page if you really want to get an understanding of what is taught at this Leadership school.
Now that I have my own blog I can see the various search terms used to find the blog. I know the future cadets and their parents are using Google quite a bit and ending up on this site.
A few tips for learning information about the school:
Use the search window on the main site. Enter basic terms. For instance, if you wonder what a cadet corporal does, enter “duties of a corporal”, or “roles and responsibilities of a corporal.”
Use a few different terms until you find the answer to your question.
Call the appropriate office on campus and ask the staff there if you have a question about a term you’ve heard or if it is a general policy question. They will point you to the right place to get the answers. It is always best to get information directly from a primary source. An assistant commandant told me they prefer to answer the scheduling and policy type questions directly to avoid rumors.
Become familiar with the information on the Office of the Commandant page. Most of your questions will be answered on a link here.
Bookmark the link to the Guidon online. It is a great resource.
Use the volunteers of the Citadel Family Association. Their contact information for the company and battalion reps as well as various area reps can be found on the CFA web site. Parents who volunteer have already been through a year or two and volunteer to help the new parents.
Many alumni cannot understand why parents know so much about the 4th Class system now. Parents and students today have far more information available to them today thanks to the internet. Alumni will tell you when they attended their parents would drop them off on Matriculation Day and maybe get one five-minute phone call from their cadet once a week or so. That call was made from a pay phone.
Times have changed. To stay relevant and competitive in the higher education marketplace some policies at The Citadel had to change. Allowing cell phones for knobs is a change that, in part, came about for campus safety after the shootings at Virginia Tech. The use of computers is a necessity for anyone in the job marketplace. With the increased use of computers comes the increase n communication capabilities such as email and Skype. Future employers will expect graduates to know how to use computers and other technology. Parents need to know how to use technology for their own work and duties as a parent.
The Citadel has held the #1 ranking for public colleges in the South. A testament to how well the school has managed to maintain the rigors of the 4th Class System while staying relevant in the current higher education marketplace.
The color guard moves forward during the Casing of the Colors for the 3-69 AR at Fort Stewart, October 2012.
The Family Readiness Group for my son’s battalion sent me a note recently outlining their needs for both the families of the deployed soldiers and for the soldiers over seas. Early this year, with the help of many friends and family members, I was able to gather and send items. The battalion needs our help again.
I hope the readers of this post will help me get the word out once again. If you live near me in Roswell, GA and can drop off your donation great send me an email to let me know you’ll be donating! If you would like to send a financial donation, please email me at: dorie@v4t.bc6.myftpupload.com
They requested the following items:
Underwear (solid color boxer briefs in medium, large, and XL)
Good, sturdy boot length socks
T-shirts
Foot powder, soap, baby wipes, shaving cream (in tubes not aerosol)
Sunscreen (cream, no aerosol cans)
They have also established an account for the battalion. Money donated to the fund will be used to give injured battalion members gift baskets, provide welcome home baskets for single soldiers, and also to help with their welcome home activities. To donate to the battalion send your donation to: Friends of Speed and Power
mail to:
3-69 AR BN, Attn: LT Yamin, 515 Warrior Road, Bldg 648, Fort Stewart, GA 31314
Please share this post with anyone you believe will help.
Bravo Company and 1st Battalion in Marion Square Recognition Day, 2008
Recognition Day for The Citadel Class of 2016 is this Saturday, April 13. The year has flown by for me, but I know it hasn’t for the knobs and their parents. Looking back on my own son’s knob year I remember how long it seemed. The following three years past by like it was just one.
There is one aspect of the day I need to emphasize. Recognition Day is for the 4th Class cadets.
I was very surprised that my son came out of the barracks after they were recognized. In the past few years more and more newly recognized cadets come out of the barracks for a hug.
Each year since 2008 when I first watched the 4th Class cadets march into Marion Square more and more families travel to Charleston to watch the activities Saturday morning. It is important for everyone who does decide to attend to remember that this is their cadets big day, even though you too feel like you have survived knob year. It is a 24 hour period filled with challenges both physical and mental for the knobs.
While you can now observe the gauntlet, a series of activities performed on the parade field or the WLI field, you should not cheer or get in the way of the activities. Bring a chair, watch from a distance, take photos from a distance, visit with other parents, but do not interact with the cadets.
In 2008 we arrived in Charleston before noon to watch the march into Marion Square. I was surprised to see some people gathered around the sallyport gates watching what was happening inside. We got out of the car just in time to hear the announcement, “The fourth class system in no longer in effect!”
Many alumni do not understand why parents now come to campus for Recognition Day. The tradition has changed from their time as cadets. The significance of the day for the 4th Class cadets has not changed. Don’t be surprised if a friend who is also a graduate of the school doesn’t understand why you are going to the campus.
For parents who cannot be on campus for the activities, the phone call you will get from your cadet will be one of the best calls you have ever received. The school will post photos and the Facebook groups for parents will be filled with photos and videos.
I look forward to seeing the photos and videos myself. I am hoping the members of the Facebook group, The Citadel: Parents of the Class of 2016, will gather at some point for a group photo.
Congratulations to the Class of 2016!
See the following links for previous posts about Recognition Day.
This year the start of spring has been extremely cold. This morning, March 26, we have snow flurries outside. A far cry from the beautiful warm spring day in 1989 when my first-born decided to arrive.
I can’t help but think this cold weather serves as a symbol for how military moms feel when their children are deployed. Life goes on, but in a different way, when they are deployed. Since he is far away on his birthday this year it is entirely appropriate for it to be snowing on a day that we usually celebrate new life. The weather mirrors my internal mood.
At our house we celebrate occasions big and small. This year celebrating was hard. I had sent a few gifts to him early. He really likes the Combat Humidor and cigars I sent. But last night, his actual birthday, I felt the need to do one more thing.
I called the owner of Molly MacPherson’s, a pub in Richmond Hill. It was one of Nelson’s favorite places when he was living there before he deployed. When I visited in the fall for a Family Readiness Meeting he took me there for dinner. I asked the owner, Jennifer, to help me with a birthday present for my deployed son. After giving her my credit card information I ordered Scotch eggs (his favorite) and a round of beer. I asked her to give it to her regulars at the bar. I also asked her to ask the patrons to toast Nelson on his birthday.
Patrons at Molly MacPherson’s in Richmond Hill, GA toast Nelson’s birthday.
A few hours later an email came in from an address I did not recognize. It was a message from Jennifer. The email included a photo of a group of soldiers holding their beer up. The attached video was of the birthday toast. Jennifer told me one of the men had been with the same unit as my son, Speed and Power! 3-69 AR.
This cold spring day was warmed by the image of those strangers toasting my deployed son on his birthday. I look forward to the day my son and I can visit Jennifer at Molly MacPherson’s and toast his homecoming.
24 years ago this evening I went into labor with my first-born son. I was already 10 days past my due date and was ready to go. He was breach, but my doctor was going to allow me to deliver naturally, until he went into distress. With in minutes I was prepped and off to the delivery room for an emergency c-section.
Nelson spent a few days in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) after he was born.
Nelson came into the world in a dramatic fashion. He was tough though. At over 8 pounds he looked like a monster baby next to the others in the NICU. He had to be hooked up to monitors and receive oxygen for a few days. He recovered nicely from his exciting entry into the world and has sought adventure ever since.
He is celebrating his birthday this year far from home. I am writing this entry the evening of March 24 here at home, but it is well into March 25 where he is now. We all miss him.
This afternoon our daughter expressed her love for her brother in a birthday video for him. They are ten years apart. When she was a toddler she called him NaNa. The name has stuck, at least at our home. Her video made me tear up.
We look forward to the day we can celebrate his birthday at home.
Ten years ago this week I was at our kitchen table reading the news of the “shock and awe” that started our war in Iraq. My two buys, 14 and 12 at the time were impressed with the photos that were featured on the front page. They were fascinated as they watched the televised images of missiles as they were launched and flashed on their descent into Iraq.
I was against our entrance into war. In 2003 I worked for the nonprofit, Faith And The City, and served as the producer for an interfaith dialogue television program. All of us in the office preferred a diplomatic approach to differences over sending our young soldiers into harms way. Ten years ago I couldn’t have predicted what I would be doing today.
This morning started with a message from my oldest son. He updated me on his work as a soldier in Afghanistan. My Facebook feed today is filled with retrospective pieces on the war in Iraq.
I couldn’t imagine then that my oldest son would be one of the soldiers in the Middle East today. I have said this before but there are days that seem surreal. I am here, and fine physically. Mentally my thoughts are all over the place. My son is always on my mind, but today scores of others weigh heavily on my mind.
My last year as a student at Columbia Theological Seminary (CTS)I developed a model of chaplaincy to journalist that cover traumatic events. Leading up to my final year in my master of divinity program many people questioned why a journalist would need a chaplain. As the wife of a photographer and having many friends who are reporters, I knew something many of our media consuming public still is not aware of as they read or watch the news. Journalists are first responders to traumatic events that others are fleeing from. Unlike other first responders there is no industry wide protocol to help them after an event. Firefighters, police, emergency medical personnel, all have some type of support protocol in place after an event. Many of these professions have chaplains available to them for support.
Journalist cover events, often at risk to their personal safety, then have to write, photograph and file stories about it only to go out and do it again the next day. They do not have a corporate culture of support. Like our soldiers, law enforcement members and others, journalists do not look for praise for doing their job. They are also hesitant to reveal they are struggling with the effects of what they have seen and experienced for fear of being sidelined from doing their job.
I entered my final year of seminary quite sure of the need for a caring presence for journalists. My husband and my supervisor in my clinical pastoral education class were about the only ones who understood my vision. Then the school year started.
It was the 2001-2002 school year. My first class was scheduled for the end of September. Then the events of September 11, 2001 unfolded. Seasoned journalists were seen crying on television. No one was immune to the grief and sadness of the events of that day, including the reporters, videographers, photographers, editors and other news personnel. Suddenly friends who doubted the need for a chaplain to journalists expressed support for my work.
In the course of my research I found an organization that understood what I knew inside, journalists who cover traumatic events are profoundly affected by the events they cover. How they are affected will vary, but like other first responders the events do stay with them in some form long after the situation has resolved. The Dart Center for Journalism and Trauma, is a leader in the field. The founder, Dr. Frank Ochberg, in his quest to teach journalists to be more sensitive in their coverage of victims of violence found that the journalists were also in need of support for what they covered.
I began an email correspondence with Dr. Ochberg my last year of studies at CTS. His research was helpful to me in the papers I wrote for classes. By the start of the war in Iraq I had come to view Frank as a friend and mentor in my journey to learn to be supportive to people who experience traumatic events. The Dart Center is not a faith-based organization, but they appreciate that I come from a faith-based approach to support. My intent has always been to serve in a ministry of presence and support to people of all faiths or none at all.
That morning ten years ago after seeing my boys off to school and driving into my office I felt helpless. I was a volunteer chaplain to journalists faced with the reality of contacts and people I didn’t know, being embedded with our troops.
Our local paper, the Atlanta Journal and Constitution ran a graphic one day. They showed a map of the Middle East. Photos of the journalists from the paper and CNN were placed over the areas they would cover. I pulled out a note pad and began my list. It was and is a prayer list of journalist who went to the Middle East to cover the war. I wrote their name and affiliation. I combed news sites of outlets around the world to add names to the list. Then alphabetized the list. My husband posted it to my website, where it remains today,with this introductory paragraph:
The following journalists are filing or have filed stories, photos and articles from Iraq. Please remember these people and their families in your thoughts and prayers as they continue to work to keep us informed.
Also, please remember the journalists around the world and in your hometown who work daily in dangerous situations and on difficult stories.
If you know of other journalists who should be listed, please send their name and affiliation along with a link to their work to: dorie@v4t.bc6.myftpupload.com
As the war continued I added name after name. The National Press Photographers Association found my list and posted a link to their home page. Journalists from around the world wrote to thank me for praying for them. I began to meet some of the journalists on this list through my own contacts with them and also through meetings of the Dart Center Ochberg Fellows.
There came a time when the movement of journalists in and out of the Middle East was so fluid that it was too hard for me to keep up an accurate list, but I continued to pray.
Today my prayers continue for the journalists, the soldiers, their families, the people of the Middle East, and the veterans all impacted by our involvement there.
The situation has become intensely personal for me now.
My oldest son is one of the soldiers in the Middle East. Now my son and our family are prayed for by others.
Chelle and Dorie visit with their soldier in the fall of 2012 during Family Day at Fort Stewart. photo by Stanley Leary
The color guard moves forward during the Casing of the Colors for the 3-69 AR at Fort Stewart, October 2012.
I am writing this entry filled with mixed emotions. The plan was to write about my amazing weekend in Charleston visiting with long time friends and cadets whose parents couldn’t make the trip to town. Then the news out of Afghanistan came in. I’ve taken a couple of days to let the news sink in.
The warm glow of a weekend filled with reunions and great conversations turned to the chilling realities of war. I could tell by the locations of the report that my son wasn’t in the helicopter or on the base where the soldiers were KIA. Just to be sure he was OK I sent a message to him asking him to just send an “I’m OK” message. He did, and pretty quickly too.
Even though I heard from my son my mind still went to the scenario of hearing an unexpected knock on our door. The knock by uniformed representatives of the U.S. Army that the families of those KIA this week have received. I don’t know why I allow myself to go to these dark places. Perhaps it is a way of empathizing with the families who do receive these knocks.
Today the news reports are being released with the names of the deceased. One of whom is in my son’s battalion. My prayers are with his family, his platoon and battalion members and his friends. The other soldier who died is the friend of my high school friends son. Both are graduates of West Point. The news of the soldiers killed in the helicopter crash is just beginning to be released as the families are notified.
Once again the war hits too close to home. My prayers are with the loved ones of these fallen soldiers.
And I thought knob year at The Citadel was stressful. Senior cadet and mentor, “Mr. Mason” addresses Cadet Lalli during the promotion ceremony. Parents Weekend, 2007. photo by Stanley Leary
This afternoon I went to our local barbecue restaurant for lunch. Not usually anything to write about. Today was special though. Right before I went into the restaurant I checked my messages. There was a quick message from my deployed son letting me know he received a couple of boxes I had sent two weeks before. The boxes included food and some boxer briefs in various sizes for his platoon members. Most of my boxes take over 3 weeks to reach him so I was surprised that they arrived so quickly.
He let me know the guys appreciated the boxers. Usually that would be the end of our correspondence. He tends to write a short note and that is it. In my reply I told him that I continue to cover their a$$es whether it is toilet paper or underwear.
Apparently my wit won him over. After going in to order my lunch, I checked the messages and found another one. Our conversation continued for a few more volleys. Nothing earth shattering. His birthday is coming up and I asked what he’d like. He never asks for anything so I am left to guess at what may be appreciated.
The conversation was short. Sitting there in the middle of Slope’s BBQ in Roswell, Georgia it struck me. I am using my Droid HD to have a conversation with my son in Afghanistan, something I would have thought inconceivable just a few years ago. A rather surreal feeling.
One of the ladies who works there asked me if I was alright. I know she was asking about my tray and wondering if I needed anything else, but for some reason her question got to me. Sitting there thinking of my son and his birthday in a few weeks, and knowing he is in a difficult place I realized, no, I am not OK. I miss my son and I worry. I told her I was corresponding with my deployed son. The tears began to well up. I tried to clear my table and go outside before I made a spectacle of myself.
The plan almost worked until the nice lady asked me for my son’s name so she could pray for him. That did it. The tears filled my eyes. She gave me a big hug right there in the middle of the restaurant. I drove home with my heart in my throat.
Some days I am pretty good at pretending that I am not worried. Today is not one of those days.
