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DEL.ICIO.USFamilies grieve, then must wait
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
For most of the families, the bad news came Monday.
Then, the waiting started. Waiting for news about when the body of their loved one would come home from Iraq. Waiting to find out when they can hold funerals for the four Georgia Army National Guard soldiers who were killed last Sunday by a roadside bomb.
Standing in his driveway in Valdosta on Thursday morning, the grandfather of Sgt. John Frank Thomas thought about the grandson he raised and reflected on his own life.
The 83-year-old man, also named John Frank Thomas, grew up in an orphanage in Macon with almost nothing to his name. Decades later, he’s retired from the Air Force, with his home and vehicles paid off.
“I’d give everything if I could get my grandson back,” he said quietly. “He was like a son to us.”
Hours later, an official from the Army’s Casualty Assistance Center arrived to tell the family about the transport of the 33-year-old soldier’s body, and to let them know they were the beneficiaries of his life insurance policy. Again, the senior John Thomas said he wished he could trade that money for his grandson’s life.
“I know,” Sgt. 1st Class Harris Cody replied gently, setting aside the papers that the grandfather needed to sign.
The soldier’s grandmother, Manuela Thomas, wanted Cody to know about the young man she referred to as “my baby.” She showed Cody portraits of her grandson when he entered the Marines in his early 20s, a photo of him at the National Guard Armory, and one of him with his pit bull mix, Annie. She wondered if she could display one at the funeral.
Because he died in a bomb blast, she didn’t think there could be an open casket. But she wanted people to see what a handsome man he was. Cody reassured her that she could display a photo. He told the couple their grandson’s body had arrived the night before at Dover Air Force Base and should be in Valdosta on Monday evening. He promised to return and update them on arrangements.
In Covington, the family of Staff Sgt. Carl Fuller is trying to work out the details of his funeral. Late in the week, they gathered at the home of his sister, Berlinda Alexander, where he lived for several months before going to Iraq.
Fuller’s parents were reluctant to talk about their son, as if doing so might open the wound further. Berlinda had made a small shrine to her brother, moving items from his first tour in Iraq â€â€? his medals and a folded American flag in a wooden case – from the bedroom where he had stayed to the mantel in her living room.
The family is guessing that they can have the funeral late this week. “We don’t know exactly what the process is,” Berlinda said. “We’re just waiting.”
In Sylvester, friends tried to find a way to comfort Cathy Brunson, the mother of Spc. Jacques “Gus” Brunson.
Peggy Tompkins, who works as a secretary in the Worth County sheriff’s office, also has a son in Iraq. She was struggling with what to say to Cathy. “I can’t talk about it,” Tompkins said. “It’s too upsetting.”
Her husband, Sheriff Freddie Tompkins, went to see Cathy and simply gave her a hug. “I told her we would think about her,” he said. “Really, there’s not a lot I could say.”
Gus Brunson’s father, Jeffry, who lives in Lawrenceville, hopes he’ll get a chance to sit with his son’s casket. Just one last chance to talk to his boy.
“It won’t get any easier, I don’t think,” he said. “I’d like to say it’ll get easier next week or next month, but I don’t think it will.”
Staff writers Rosalind Bentley, Shelia M. Poole and Charles Yoo contributed to this article.
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