A fallen soldier and lost son

In this business, we routinely report about the military and veterans. The most difficult stories involve deaths of young soldiers.

We at The Atlanta Journal-Constitution were reminded of that in a very real way a little over a month ago – in a story that read like so many we’ve published through the years:

The funeral for a Villa Rica soldier killed in Afghanistan will be held today.

Army Staff Sgt. Joshua J. Bowden, 28, died Aug. 31 in Ghazni, Afghanistan, from injuries sustained when enemy forces attacked his unit with small arms fire while on patrol, the Department of Defense said in a statement.

Bowden will be buried in Arlington National Cemetery at a later date with full military honors.

Sgt. Bowden was the son of Ray Bowden, facilities supervisor for the AJC. Ray Bowden has worked here for close to 25 years.

Our journalists followed their instincts and sought to interview Bowden. It’s something we always do: offer the family a chance to tell the story of their young soldier. We got the answer that we often get, this time from a guy we knew. He wasn’t ready to talk yet.

Later we would report on the funeral and publish pictures. The Wall Street Journal printed a front page photograph from the funeral as well.

It was understandable that Bowden and his family needed some time.

Bowden had been busy that Saturday morning, working at a second job he has maintaining the grounds for a church near his home. His son had often worked with him at the church, while Josh was in high school.

A glance at his cell phone told him he’d missed two calls from his wife, Yolanda, so he called her back.

“I need you to come home now,” was all she said.

He rushed home, unsure of what was wrong.

“All kinds of things go through your mind,” Bowden said. But oddly, he worried that something had happened to his recently married daughter and wasn’t worried about his son, who was in a war zone halfway across the world.

That’s because of a prayer he said each morning.

“I asked the Lord to watch over him and bring him home safely,” Bowden said.

When he arrived at home, a silver car sat in front, a car that looked like his son-in-law’s. His concerns were still about his daughter.

His wife came to the front of the house, and he could see she was crying. She grabbed his hand, and led him to the patio behind the house.

And through the window, he saw two men in Army uniforms.

“I just knew,” he said. “I broke down.”

Bowden stayed outside for a few minutes until he gathered himself. And then he went in to hear what he dreaded knowing.

“I know why you’re here,” he said to the soldiers and shook their hands.

When Bowden thinks about his son, he recalls a high school soccer star and energetic kid whose father believed he could’ve worked harder in school.

“Sleep was a waste of time, from the time he was born,” Bowden said of his son’s enthusiasm for life.

Josh had found something he loved in the Army.

Twice he’d gone to Afghanistan as an Explosive Ordnance Disposal expert, earning two Purple Hearts.

His work was similar to what soldiers did in the film “The Hurt Locker,” Hollywood’s portrayal of the high-risk duty of elite soldiers who dismantle roadside bombs in Iraq.

But Josh told his father: “It’s nothing like that.”

Bowden said his son found his place in the Army, and the father was impressed by “Josh’s love for his job; his dedication to his unit.”

Josh went to Afghanistan the second time, Bowden said, because he believed he had experience and knowledge to offer other soldiers that could help them do their work and stay safe.

Josh leaves behind his wife, April, and his 5-year-old son, Kaden.

And a grieving father, who’s back at work.

“Good days. Bad days. Good moments. Bad moments,” said Bowden. “It just hurts like hell.”

“No parent should have to see those two soldiers come up to their house,” he said.

To those of us who work with him, Bowden has been open and frank about what this has been like for him. And for journalists at the AJC, it’s been a reminder of how the world’s biggest stories always touch real people and change their lives.

“People have been wonderful. Some are hesitant. Some are emotional.” Bowden said of his co-workers, adding that he appreciates those who seek him out to offer sympathy, even when they struggle for the right words. “There’s a lot of love in our family here.”