At Their Best

As I’m walking to the checkout line at Harris Teeter with an armful of groceries I’m struggling to carry and it’s between me and an elderly man to go next in line, I signal for him to go ahead of me with a smile and a head flick…

“No, you’ve got a lot more on your plate than I do.”

That act of kindness combined with the weight I was trying desperately to hide brought me to tears in the middle of the fucking grocery store. 

I’ve worked with scores of men.  I’ve seen acts of cowardice and acts of heroism go unnoticed.  Men have died and I haven’t thought much of it.  But this one hurt.  This one was worth me dropping everything in my life to make sure everything was done right to make sure he was honored in death, no matter the circumstances.

He was the best soldier I ever had. 

He was never in the “good ole boys club.”  He always did what was asked of him.  He always performed well in battle and saved my life, along with many others, without them even knowing it.  He never asked for awards, but deserved them, along with his Purple Heart.  If I ever made a bad decision, he would respectfully tell me in private that he had a problem and when he spoke… I listened.  He was never considered a subordinate, but instead an advisor that I needed.  He was my right hand man for 27 months of war.  He was what we call, a hard man, whom I loved.  His name was Chris Hall.

Chris loved his family above everything.  He admitted he wasn’t a perfect man… to which I constantly argued after seeing what he did for his country and for the men he protected overseas.  He all but predicted what would happen if he moved back home to Tennessee.  I pleaded with him to go anywhere else to prevent those bad decisions from coming back to haunt him.  I lost that debate.

I got the call at 1 in the morning, then I notified 82 men he served with what had happened.  I was in shock, so I took advantage of that fact by informing people and answering all the questions people had on what had happened and why.

Plans were made for 4 of us to meet up in Newport, Tennessee.  It was a place within 10 miles of where I last lost contact with Chris.  He texted me while I was hiking the Appalachian Trail in late September of 2014, telling me to contact him when I crossed into Tennessee, stating… “Let me know when ya hit Tennessee. My life is falling apart.”  So I did… but I never heard back.

I drove 8 hours from VA Beach, Woody drove 5 hours from Fort Benning, GA, Stoops drove 3 hours from Fort Bragg, NC, Freddy Drove 8 hours from Indiana and drove back in the snow.  Phillips drove several hours from Georgia the day of, only to have a quick meal with the rest of us to drive several hours back while on strict probation.  We weren’t the most tight knit group of men the last time we were all together with Chris… but his death brought out the best in us… just like how we remembered him… at his best.  His death brought us together again.  We would all lay down our lives for each other, no matter the situation.  Over time, we lost track of that… and we could see that in each other’s eyes as we gathered at a local bar to reminisce a man worth anyone’s envy.

I loved listening to everyone’s stories about Chris.  I loved that his oldest son, Matthew, who graduated from the Air Force Academy just days before, came out with us as we slipped him adult beverages and told him stories of the man that raised him.  We told him how Chris bragged about how proud he was of Matthew and all his kids.

The day before the burial of his ashes on a hill just north of the Great Smokey Mountains next to a plot reserved for him, his first wife Nicole and his first child… we waltzed into the funeral home to ask the director if we could properly Christen several flags to be presented to his loved ones.  The director was kind and agreed to allow us to show up early the next morning to unfold, carry over his ashes and then fold a flag for each of the Chris’ loved ones.

Woody made replicas of Chris’ Dog tags to present to Chris’ kids. 

A large crowd came out to support the family at the Hall Cemetery. I jumped a bit after the first shots of the 21-gun salute were fired.  4 of us properly presented flags to 4 of Chris’ children.  I approached his eldest son… who had a mouth just as filthy as the rest of us as I found out the night before… which made us all smile, because Chris would have it no other way as he was so proud of Matthew.  I took a knee in front of Matthew after touching the flag to Chris’s Urn.

“Matthew… It was my honor.”

I grabbed his right hand to put over the flag and patted him on the back of his neck as his tears soaked his pants.  He was in so much pain, but such a tough young man at the same time… like Chris.  I stood slowly and saluted him while dawning my gold spurs, Stetson and beard.

I circled around the crowd to grab another flag with Stoops.  He would present the woman who stood next to Chris over 3 long deployments to Iraq and Afghanistan with a flag she didn’t know was coming… her name is Nicole.  They were best friends and loving parents.  Stoops’ family lived right next door to Chris’ and I thought that would mean a lot to the both of them.  I presented the last flag to the woman Chris told me raised him, his Step-Mom.  I knelt beside the urn, touched the flag to it, stood and turned to Theresa to proudly kneel again.  She grabbed the flag.

“He spoke very highly of you.  It was an honor.”  I stood and saluted.

We went to a church just down the road afterwards and grabbed his 4 children to speak to them in a private room while everyone else gathered in a chow hall.  We shut the door as the children sat.  Woody told them how important Chris was to us and how we would all watch over his kids for all time. They were presented his dog tag replicas and we hugged them all, promising to always be there for them.

I wrote a letter to his kids and gave them to Nicole.  I told her to read the letter and she would know when to give it to each child.  I wanted them to know what their father was like at his best… not his ending.  They needed to know he was the best and no matter what happened after the military, they will know who he was at his best… always wanting great things for them while looking after his brothers.

That night we all went to Chris' youngest son's second basketball game and cheered like idiots before parting ways in the morning.  Little Ethan looks just like his Dad and is a constant memory of a great man.  

My heart aches the same now as it did when I lost my Mom.  I love Chris for all that he did and all that he taught me.  Whenever any of his kids contacts us down the road, they will have our full attention to help in any way we can... simply because of who there father was and the loyalty he earned. 

We all miss someone… may we remember them at their best and smile.