It's been three years since I last updated this story. I was looking at the last entry and tears came to my eyes. I wrote about my arrival in scenic Meridien MI, and my introduction to Lovelle Winton. Over the course of my tour of duty in the USMC, Lovelle became one of/if not my best friend. It was never an easy friendship. He was headstrong, opinionated, had a shitty attitude, came from an abusive background and had serious scars. He caused me a lot of headaches. It almost came to blows on more than one occasion. To paraphrase Doc Holiday in Wyatt Earp "Lovelle Winton is an ignorant scoundrel! I disapprove of his very existence. I considered ending it myself on several occasions, but... self-control always got the better of me." But that's not the whole story. The whole story involves to young men who joined the Marines for totally different reasons. Both of whom enlisted to do a job they intended to base their futures on and instead had the Marine Corps decide that they each would better serve the Corps as Aviation Operations Specialists. I was five years older that Lovelle. We were both only children. My mother had passed away. His had put him in foster care. I guess as the saying goes we found a brother from another mother in each other. We followed different paths both in the Corps and later as veterans. I used to really look forward to him calling me to comment on my latest post or to talk about sports or the events of the day or to just generally complain about shit that was going that only another Marine would appreciate.
Lovelle passed away in January. He had a lot of issues, and the world didn't always care. Not a day has gone by that I haven't thought about him. I miss him. In a lot of ways, my story is his story. I have both dreaded and looked forward to starting to write this again because I know that the call won't be coming and that I'm now responsible to tell the story of a brother in a way that reveals how much I loved him and how much he pissed me off and made me laugh all while serving in the USMC at the beginning of the War on Terror. Lovelle, I will try to paint you in the best light possible, but honestly the warts and the bumps and the cracks are the things that make the time memorable and the friendship more important.
I also feel like this story both during my time in the USMC and the years that have followed as an educator, coach, husband, father, veteran and citizen will show that not everybody fits neatly into the categories and stereotypes we try to put each other in. I have let this story dwell in my head for far too long and I think it's time for it to be told. Stay tuned.
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