Don's Coming Home
Page 4
 

The next morning we were up at dawn and put Don back on that awful train for his trip to Arlington National Cemetery. Dad and mom drove to Arlington with my sister Peggy. I wanted to be alone, so I followed in my car. We made the occasional stops to eat and sleep. We didn't talk to each except when necessary. We traveled to Arlington in silence unable to express our grief in words.

Arlington is such a beautiful place. In the summer it's very green and has a certain splendor with its' well manicured grass and it's orderly plots containing neat rows of tombstones, each identifying someone whose sacrifice has earned them the respect of our country. Arlington seems to change with the seasons. In the spring, it's alive with blossoms, fragrant smells and cool breezes and in the fall, it becomes somber and stately, almost like cathedral. We buried Don on a gray overcast December morning. Arlington was a cold, bleak place that day. The bitter weather matched our moods well. It somehow seemed to capture our desperate grief. The burial was performed with a crisp military precision and when it ended we walked away from section 35, grave 195, Sylvia clutching her American Flag and all of us clinging to each other in our sorrow.

It's been nearly forty years since we buried Don. My Dad died 10 years later, never quite getting over the terrible loss of his only son. Sylvia met and married a wonderful man whose name is also Don, who raised my nephew Kevin as his own son. I often thought how fortunate Kevin was to have two such great fathers. It is hard to believe that he is approaching forty and is raising a family of his own. My younger sister Peggy went on to earn a Masters Degree in Horticulture and today is in charge of the Historical Gardens at Thomas Jefferson's Monticello. My mother is alive and well and promises to live to be at least a hundred. I continued my nursing career, got married and have a daughter by the name of Kendra. In the late eighties I helped start our community's Hospice program and still continue to work with the Hospice movement.

It was in the summer of 1998 that my sister Peggy called and said she had been contacted by an old friend of Don's from the 1st Air Cavalry. He told her that Don was being awarded the Silver Star for Gallantry at a special ceremony that was being held at the next Ia Drang Association reunion, the date was November 7th, and asked if the family could attend. Peggy said she would call Don's widow Sylvia in Texas and tell her about the ceremony. In the meantime, I called my mother and daughter Kendra with the news. Later that day Peggy called and said that Sylvia, along with her husband and Don's son Kevin, would be coming. It promised to be a real family reunion as well as the 35th anniversary of Don's death.

My mother, Kendra and I arrived at the Hyatt Arlington, Friday evening. After dinner a friend of Don's suggested we visit the hospitality suite and meet some of "Don's old comrades". It was a great time with lots of free "Garry Owen Beer". We all met Larry Gwin, Jack Smith, Pat Payne, John Howard and many others. They all had such wonderful stories and memories of Don. It had been thirty-five years since Don's death and as I listened to the stories, I couldn't have been more proud to be his sister.

The next morning there was a ceremony at panel 3E, line 73 of "The Wall". About a hundred 7th Cavalry troopers and their families stood quietly as Joe Galloway read the award of Don's Silver Star. The actual medal was presented to Don's son Kevin by General Hal Moore. There were lots of tears and hugs. The tears were much less painful then those of thirty-five years before. They were tears of gratitude for having a brother such as Don and tears of gratitude for the lives of those wonderful men of the 7th Cavalry who remembered and honored him so.

Left to Right: Bud Alley, Jim Lawrence, Kevin, Bill McClure, Sylvia Wilson, John Howard, Don's Mother, Velma Cornett and that's me... Carole Cornett White, Sylvia's husband Don and my daughter Kendra