JackBlades
Enlightened
This story is out of my local paper. Enjoy!
Tuesday, February 4, 2003
Small light imbued with spirit
By GORDON DILLOW
The Orange County Register
This is just a small story about a flashlight.
The story starts last month in the tiny town of Manning, Ore., when Dave Brown gets the call he's been dreading: His son, Everett, an 18- year-old Marine at Camp Pendleton, is shipping out for the Persian Gulf.
Dave, 50, an Army veteran, feels what a lot of fathers might feel: Pride, fear, and a nagging sense of helplessness. He wishes he could go with his son, to protect him and guide him, just like he always did. But he knows he can't.
Still, Dave has to do something; he can't just sit there.
Then he remembers Everett telling him he wished he had a really good flashlight, that the standard-issue flashlights are too big and bulky. Dave decides that's what he'll do: He'll get his son a flashlight. He'll get his boy the very best flashlight.
Dave checks around and finds that among the finest flashlights in the world are those made by a Fountain Valley company called SureFire. Dave decides to buy Everett a $200 M3 Combatlight.
So Dave puts in a call to SureFire and talks to an inside sales rep named Debbie Wilford. Debbie tells Dave they can ship the flashlight the following week.
Uh oh. Dave explains that his son is shipping out from Pendleton in a few days, bound for the Middle East and God knows what. Next week will be too late; he's gotta get him this flashlight!
And suddenly, listening to Dave's voice, Debbie senses that this is about more than just a flashlight. It's about a worried father trying to do something for his boy as he sails off to a looming war, some small thing to help keep him safe, and bring him home.
Debbie, 49, of Tustin, thinks about her own son, who's in college but who could be standing in Everett's boots, and about her brother and cousin, young men like Everett when they served in Vietnam. She wants Everett to have this flashlight. Equally important, she wants Everett's father to be able to give it to him.
So Debbie tells Dave not to worry. Everett will get the flashlight. She'll take it to him herself.
And she does. On a Sunday morning, on her own time, Debbie makes the 45-mile drive down to Camp Pendleton, finds Pfc. Everett Brown among the thousands of milling Marines and gives him the flashlight. Everett has that flashlight with him, like a little piece of his dad, when he ships out aboard the USS Boxer.
The whole thing leaves Dave a little choked up as he tells me about it by phone.
"She (Debbie) kept saying it was a small thing," Dave says. "But it wasn't a small thing to me. For her, a stranger, to care about my son - I can't tell you how much that meant."
As for Debbie, she seems puzzled that anyone would find what she did particularly noteworthy.
"When I heard the worry in his (Dave's) voice, I decided it was the least I could do," she tells me. "I guess my heart just went out to him - and to all the parents who are going through this."
So that's it. That's the small story about a flashlight.
Except that it wasn't just about a flashlight after all.
And for such a small story, somehow it casts a powerful light.
LINK HERE
Tuesday, February 4, 2003
Small light imbued with spirit
By GORDON DILLOW
The Orange County Register
This is just a small story about a flashlight.
The story starts last month in the tiny town of Manning, Ore., when Dave Brown gets the call he's been dreading: His son, Everett, an 18- year-old Marine at Camp Pendleton, is shipping out for the Persian Gulf.
Dave, 50, an Army veteran, feels what a lot of fathers might feel: Pride, fear, and a nagging sense of helplessness. He wishes he could go with his son, to protect him and guide him, just like he always did. But he knows he can't.
Still, Dave has to do something; he can't just sit there.
Then he remembers Everett telling him he wished he had a really good flashlight, that the standard-issue flashlights are too big and bulky. Dave decides that's what he'll do: He'll get his son a flashlight. He'll get his boy the very best flashlight.
Dave checks around and finds that among the finest flashlights in the world are those made by a Fountain Valley company called SureFire. Dave decides to buy Everett a $200 M3 Combatlight.
So Dave puts in a call to SureFire and talks to an inside sales rep named Debbie Wilford. Debbie tells Dave they can ship the flashlight the following week.
Uh oh. Dave explains that his son is shipping out from Pendleton in a few days, bound for the Middle East and God knows what. Next week will be too late; he's gotta get him this flashlight!
And suddenly, listening to Dave's voice, Debbie senses that this is about more than just a flashlight. It's about a worried father trying to do something for his boy as he sails off to a looming war, some small thing to help keep him safe, and bring him home.
Debbie, 49, of Tustin, thinks about her own son, who's in college but who could be standing in Everett's boots, and about her brother and cousin, young men like Everett when they served in Vietnam. She wants Everett to have this flashlight. Equally important, she wants Everett's father to be able to give it to him.
So Debbie tells Dave not to worry. Everett will get the flashlight. She'll take it to him herself.
And she does. On a Sunday morning, on her own time, Debbie makes the 45-mile drive down to Camp Pendleton, finds Pfc. Everett Brown among the thousands of milling Marines and gives him the flashlight. Everett has that flashlight with him, like a little piece of his dad, when he ships out aboard the USS Boxer.
The whole thing leaves Dave a little choked up as he tells me about it by phone.
"She (Debbie) kept saying it was a small thing," Dave says. "But it wasn't a small thing to me. For her, a stranger, to care about my son - I can't tell you how much that meant."
As for Debbie, she seems puzzled that anyone would find what she did particularly noteworthy.
"When I heard the worry in his (Dave's) voice, I decided it was the least I could do," she tells me. "I guess my heart just went out to him - and to all the parents who are going through this."
So that's it. That's the small story about a flashlight.
Except that it wasn't just about a flashlight after all.
And for such a small story, somehow it casts a powerful light.
LINK HERE
