Tune in on Sunday, November 11 (Veteran's Day) at 8 p.m. eastern, on HLN for the premiere of the original documentary event, "108 Hours."
Showing posts with label Robert Stokely. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robert Stokely. Show all posts
November 10, 2012
108 Hours - A Father's Journey
How far would a father go to honor his son, "108 Hours - A Father's Journey" is the story of our friend Robert Stokely and his journey to Yusufiyah Iraq, to visit the spot on which his son Sgt. Michael Stokely was killed.
May 24, 2012
Memorial Day - For Those Who Have Given Thier Last Full Measure of Devotion
[Ed Note: This is a repost from 2009]
~~~
Memorial means "serving, or intended, to preserve the memory... to keep in remembrance". Here is an Excerpt from the Order designating May 30, 1868 as Memorial Day:
...We should guard their graves with sacred vigilance. All that the consecrated wealth and taste of the nation can add to their adornment and security, is but a fitting tribute to the memory of her slain defenders. Let pleasant paths invite the coming and going of reverent visitors and fond mourners. Let no neglect, no ravages of time, testify to the present or to the coming generations that we have forgotten...
Ask yourself an honest question - Is that how America views Memorial Day? Honestly, I have to say that before my son went to war and died, it wasn't for me and from what I have observed, it isn't for most of America.
proud dad SGT Mike Stokely
KIA 16 AUG 05 near Yusufiyah Iraq
USA E 108 CAV 48th BCT GAARNG
~~~
Memorial means "serving, or intended, to preserve the memory... to keep in remembrance". Here is an Excerpt from the Order designating May 30, 1868 as Memorial Day:
...We should guard their graves with sacred vigilance. All that the consecrated wealth and taste of the nation can add to their adornment and security, is but a fitting tribute to the memory of her slain defenders. Let pleasant paths invite the coming and going of reverent visitors and fond mourners. Let no neglect, no ravages of time, testify to the present or to the coming generations that we have forgotten...
Ask yourself an honest question - Is that how America views Memorial Day? Honestly, I have to say that before my son went to war and died, it wasn't for me and from what I have observed, it isn't for most of America.
There are many costs of Freedom, but on Memorial Day we should only focus on and Remember the Fallen with Honor for their sacrifice is the highest cost to maintain freedom - A Lifetime of Love
On Memorial Day, let us each strive to serve with intention to preserve the memory of the Fallen, for as has been said, a nation who forgets its Fallen will itself soon be forgotten.
On Memorial Day, let us each strive to serve with intention to preserve the memory of the Fallen, for as has been said, a nation who forgets its Fallen will itself soon be forgotten.
Duty Honor Country,
Robert Stokelyproud dad SGT Mike Stokely
KIA 16 AUG 05 near Yusufiyah Iraq
USA E 108 CAV 48th BCT GAARNG
April 19, 2012
My Story - 30 Years Ago
Robert asked in his post, what were you doing 30 years ago today?
30 years ago today, I was oh not so patiently waiting for my senior year in high school to come to an end...then it was off to Basic Training...at times it seems so long ago, but at other times it feels as it was only yesterday. Funny how the mind plays tricks on us like that, especially when the memory is of one to which we are so close.
I think of Robert and his family often and I hope everyone of them are doing well. If you live in his neck of the woods, I implore you to support Robert in his current endeavor to secure a spot in the Legislature, for Robert is the kind of man who will make a difference.
Robert’s story of Mike's birth sounds so familiar to me, as it is very similar to the flurry of activity that surrounded the birth of son#2 (S2). S2 was late, two-weeks late and although everything seemed fine, we just felt that we shouldn't be waiting any longer. On December 26, 1999 we finally went to the hospital in labor, and we had decided that we weren't leaving there without our child (we had made a decision to not learn the sex of the baby with both boys). Finally, the time came and our second son was on his way out...but something wasn't right. The umbilical cord had wrapped around his neck and with every push, it was choking him, to death. Labor it seems had become a fight for survival for our little one. After what seemed like hours, but was really only an hour at most, he was delivered, and placed on his mother’s chest, but still something was wrong. It was then that we saw the face on our mid-wife change from one of serious business to out-right fear.
Rub his chest…pinch his toes…nothing was working he just wasn't breathing enough... Then he was gone, ripped off her chest and out of her arms and out of the room. A quick hesitant look at each other and her eyes told me all I needed to know - go after them and don't come back without him!
We were lucky, the local hospital was a big one, and a year earlier they had opened up their own Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) and yes, as Robert noted they do say it - Nick U, across the hall from the Labor and Delivery Suites. Through the glass I saw him...tiny, with more tubes coming out of him than you could think possible. The delivery process and umbilical cord issue had caused him to instinctively try to gasp for breath, unfortunately he was still in amniotic fluid at the time and he swallowed a fair amount of fluid as well as meconium too - the pressure change caused his right lung to collapse.
Two-weeks later we were able to hold him for the first time; today he is a healthy 6th Grader and the Scribe for his Scout Troop.
Like Robert I am blessed by my children, they are my heroes for both of them have overcome so much and still every day they get up and do it all again. I don't know if I would have had the strength to do what they do but I suppose, as people tell me that they are just like me, that somewhere I have the strength that they do.
God bless you Robert, drive safely and give our hellos to Mike and to your Dad O, they are who they are, because of you just as you are who you are because of them. Hold onto your Memories and keep making more, for to forget debases us as humans and we have more value than that for our purpose comes from an authority higher than us all.
Never forget that even in the darkest of times we can find the path God wants us to follow if we believe in Romans 8-25 and follow the example of Isaiah and simply reply, "Send me."
[Ed Note: This is my story, ask my wife and the details may vary slightly, but I am a firm believe in remembering the story in the manner to which it benefits you the most. Besides I'm a historian by training I can't be expected to be so exact with the facts can I? lol)
30 years ago today, I was oh not so patiently waiting for my senior year in high school to come to an end...then it was off to Basic Training...at times it seems so long ago, but at other times it feels as it was only yesterday. Funny how the mind plays tricks on us like that, especially when the memory is of one to which we are so close.
I think of Robert and his family often and I hope everyone of them are doing well. If you live in his neck of the woods, I implore you to support Robert in his current endeavor to secure a spot in the Legislature, for Robert is the kind of man who will make a difference.
Robert’s story of Mike's birth sounds so familiar to me, as it is very similar to the flurry of activity that surrounded the birth of son#2 (S2). S2 was late, two-weeks late and although everything seemed fine, we just felt that we shouldn't be waiting any longer. On December 26, 1999 we finally went to the hospital in labor, and we had decided that we weren't leaving there without our child (we had made a decision to not learn the sex of the baby with both boys). Finally, the time came and our second son was on his way out...but something wasn't right. The umbilical cord had wrapped around his neck and with every push, it was choking him, to death. Labor it seems had become a fight for survival for our little one. After what seemed like hours, but was really only an hour at most, he was delivered, and placed on his mother’s chest, but still something was wrong. It was then that we saw the face on our mid-wife change from one of serious business to out-right fear.
Rub his chest…pinch his toes…nothing was working he just wasn't breathing enough... Then he was gone, ripped off her chest and out of her arms and out of the room. A quick hesitant look at each other and her eyes told me all I needed to know - go after them and don't come back without him!
We were lucky, the local hospital was a big one, and a year earlier they had opened up their own Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) and yes, as Robert noted they do say it - Nick U, across the hall from the Labor and Delivery Suites. Through the glass I saw him...tiny, with more tubes coming out of him than you could think possible. The delivery process and umbilical cord issue had caused him to instinctively try to gasp for breath, unfortunately he was still in amniotic fluid at the time and he swallowed a fair amount of fluid as well as meconium too - the pressure change caused his right lung to collapse.
Two-weeks later we were able to hold him for the first time; today he is a healthy 6th Grader and the Scribe for his Scout Troop.
Like Robert I am blessed by my children, they are my heroes for both of them have overcome so much and still every day they get up and do it all again. I don't know if I would have had the strength to do what they do but I suppose, as people tell me that they are just like me, that somewhere I have the strength that they do.
God bless you Robert, drive safely and give our hellos to Mike and to your Dad O, they are who they are, because of you just as you are who you are because of them. Hold onto your Memories and keep making more, for to forget debases us as humans and we have more value than that for our purpose comes from an authority higher than us all.
Never forget that even in the darkest of times we can find the path God wants us to follow if we believe in Romans 8-25 and follow the example of Isaiah and simply reply, "Send me."
[Ed Note: This is my story, ask my wife and the details may vary slightly, but I am a firm believe in remembering the story in the manner to which it benefits you the most. Besides I'm a historian by training I can't be expected to be so exact with the facts can I? lol)
What Were You Doing Thirty Years Ago Today?
Ed Note: Just moments after posting the previous post, I opened my email and found this message sent by Mr. Robert Stokely father of Sgt Mike Stokely.
WHAT WERE YOU doing thirty years ago today? Some were watching news reports about USSR Salyut 7 space station going into orbit. Others were waiting to hear who won the Boston Marathon (Alberto Salazar). Two people were proudly being first in another way - Guinon Bluford announced as 1st black astronaut and Sally Ride as the first woman astronaut. In Buenos Aires the U.S. Secretary of State, Alexander Haig, reaffirmed America's commitment to Britain two weeks after Argentina landed troops in the Falklands and took over the islands. Time Magazine, VOL 119 No. 16 ran a number of stories, including one about OPEC going from being a huge depositor of petrodollars in many banks around the world to a borrower in the wake of bad loan decisions by those banks that left OPEC short of cash.... By the way, gasoline prices on April 19, 1982 averaged $1.30 a gallon. Ouch, to say the least.
Well, April 19, 1982, in the early morning hours, like early thirty it is too soon after midnight on a Monday to be awake, I was awakened by the groans of my then wife who needed to be rushed to the local hospital. She was bleeding and in great pain. They admitted her and placed her in a room and called her doctor. Then we waited.... Once there the doctor did ultra sound (really archaic ultra sound compared to what we have today). He rushed her into the operating room, telling me he had but thirty minutes or less to save her life.....
I waited what seemed like forever, but it was not really that long looking back. Crash. Doors open and a couple nurses with very worried looks on their faces were pushing a medically distressed frail premature baby came out the into the small area where I was standing. At 10:32 this baby had been born, no name yet because his mother and I had just gotten back together having been separated since weeks after she found out she was pregnant. She had just called me 48 hours before and asked me to come get her and bring her back home. She was but seven months pregnant and in our few hours back together we had not talked about names. She lay in the operating room, her life at risk as they continued to work to stop the bleeding from a separated placenta which explained the severe pain and bleeding that had been going on for several hours.
As the nurses paused they let me touch him. His hand was so small my index finger could not even fit and he looked like a baby that was dying and not going to make it. I asked for some assurance "Will he be o.k.?" Their faces spoke an honesty I was not prepared to handle as they said "We don't know, but we have to get him to Intensive Care." Crash, through another set of doors and they were gone - he was gone. As the doors swung wildly back and forth, I stood there alone and afraid, bowing my head and quietly praying "God please don't let my baby die, please let me have my boy even if only for a little while."
It would be a full day later before his mother was conscious enough and able to even talk about what we would name him. I had visited him often in Neo-Natal Intensive Care - NICU (Nick U) - as they call it in hospital jargon. He was small, frail and clinging to life. He had a lung collapse and in distress, chest tube through his left rib cage to keep it inflated, which would leave a nice scar for life. But he was holding on. He was not giving in and proving in the very first hours and days he could endure stress and hardship and would fight for life. It was two days after he was born that he was named. Michael James Stokely, born April 19, 1982 at 1032 hours. 4 lbs. 2 oz., a high risk premie in 1982. And despite his critical condition, he progressed and we got him out of the hospital three weeks later and home still in 4.5 lb. range, but now gaining weight measured in grams rather than ounces.
And that circular scar? Well, it was remarkable enough that on August 22, 2005, at Dover Deleware Mortuary the medical staff doing an autopsy on Mike listed it as an identifying mark. Many had asked me if I had to "identify" Mike when he came home. No, that was not the case. He was, in the version used by the military "a non-viewable body". And I understand the nature of wondering if that is really your son in that closed casket. But the scar along with other things confirmed to me it was him. Even so, you sometimes, even now, hope it can't be true. I still look at times with longing down a long driveway hoping to see him come home. I don't want to ever move from where we live because how would he find us if it was a mistake and he came home? I envision it was a ruse to cover for him doing some secret mission and he will yet come home. But each time, I know that is wishful thinking. Mike Stokely was Killed in Action by a powerful IED on August 16, 2005 near his FOB at Yusufiyah Iraq.
Tomorrow, on April 20, I will travel to Lenoir NC to bury Dad O, a man who was like a father to me as his wife, Chris Overton another mom. James Elden Overton was born April 28, 1922 and died peacefully in his sleep on April 16, 2012. He lived a long and fruitful life. He and his wife blessed all they came into contact with. If you wanted to see what a real Christian looked and acted like, James (Dad as I called him) and Chris (Mom as I called her) were what you would want to show the world. She died six years ago. They knew tragedy of losing a son, Brian killed in a collision with a train February 12, 1985. I learned so much from Mom and Dad. They were role models to say the least. In their grief, they endured with dignity and grace, never losing faith in God, trusting in a future in Heaven, and continuing to reach out to all around them, sharing all that they had and bearing the troubles of others in need. They loved Mike as dearly as they loved their own grandchildren. They loved me as a son. But our shared Christian faith tells me they are now reunited with Mike.
We shared many great times together, and yes, in our loss of sons, we shared much grief. One of my favorite photos of Mike is as a young child sitting all big and proud in Mom's big rocker, as I knelt beside him, as we grinned at each other. We spent many days and nights visiting with Dad and Mom "O" as we sometimes called them to distinguish between my beloved real mom and dad. Mike called them Daddy Jim and Momma Chris. And there are many favorite stories to tell from their home. But I would say my fondest was when Mike was just three or so and we had spent Friday night with Mom and Dad "O". Dad got up early as usual and fixed breakfast for Mike and I. He could cook really good waffles. He was in to healthy eating using fresh ground whole wheat products. He also put walnuts in his waffles for the health qualities they have. Mike sat at a little table in the kitchen eating the first waffle. As Dad and I talked, we heard Mike spit really loudly "phoooooey" and then exclaim loudly "These things got rocks in them..." Guess Mike wasn't in to healthy eating back then. Dad and I laughed. Mom was just walking into the kitchen and heard the commotion and laughter and rolled with laughter herself when we told her the story.
I close for now as it is time for me to drive the seventy miles to Mike's grave. I want to be there when 1032 hours comes. I know he is not really there. Mike is in heaven. But I still want to be there at the grave and just visit as best I can and share that moment one more time. A moment when he was born. I am so blessed to have had the privilege of being his dad and able to call him son. I thank God for honoring my prayer 30 years ago and not letting my baby die, and letting me have him, if only for a little while. 23 years, three months and 28 days was a lot longer time with him than what it looked like this morning, 23 years ago. A treasure trove of memories to go along with that time.
Let it not be lost on you that Memories matter. They sustain you when the person you love is not around, or is gone forever. For those of you with children, make many. They are more important than money, career, or things, which can be taken from you. Memories can't.
Robert Stokely
proud dad SGT Mike Stokely
KIA 16 AUG 05 near Yusufiyah Iraq
USA E 108 CAV 48th BCT GAARNG
WHAT WERE YOU doing thirty years ago today? Some were watching news reports about USSR Salyut 7 space station going into orbit. Others were waiting to hear who won the Boston Marathon (Alberto Salazar). Two people were proudly being first in another way - Guinon Bluford announced as 1st black astronaut and Sally Ride as the first woman astronaut. In Buenos Aires the U.S. Secretary of State, Alexander Haig, reaffirmed America's commitment to Britain two weeks after Argentina landed troops in the Falklands and took over the islands. Time Magazine, VOL 119 No. 16 ran a number of stories, including one about OPEC going from being a huge depositor of petrodollars in many banks around the world to a borrower in the wake of bad loan decisions by those banks that left OPEC short of cash.... By the way, gasoline prices on April 19, 1982 averaged $1.30 a gallon. Ouch, to say the least.
Well, April 19, 1982, in the early morning hours, like early thirty it is too soon after midnight on a Monday to be awake, I was awakened by the groans of my then wife who needed to be rushed to the local hospital. She was bleeding and in great pain. They admitted her and placed her in a room and called her doctor. Then we waited.... Once there the doctor did ultra sound (really archaic ultra sound compared to what we have today). He rushed her into the operating room, telling me he had but thirty minutes or less to save her life.....
I waited what seemed like forever, but it was not really that long looking back. Crash. Doors open and a couple nurses with very worried looks on their faces were pushing a medically distressed frail premature baby came out the into the small area where I was standing. At 10:32 this baby had been born, no name yet because his mother and I had just gotten back together having been separated since weeks after she found out she was pregnant. She had just called me 48 hours before and asked me to come get her and bring her back home. She was but seven months pregnant and in our few hours back together we had not talked about names. She lay in the operating room, her life at risk as they continued to work to stop the bleeding from a separated placenta which explained the severe pain and bleeding that had been going on for several hours.
As the nurses paused they let me touch him. His hand was so small my index finger could not even fit and he looked like a baby that was dying and not going to make it. I asked for some assurance "Will he be o.k.?" Their faces spoke an honesty I was not prepared to handle as they said "We don't know, but we have to get him to Intensive Care." Crash, through another set of doors and they were gone - he was gone. As the doors swung wildly back and forth, I stood there alone and afraid, bowing my head and quietly praying "God please don't let my baby die, please let me have my boy even if only for a little while."
It would be a full day later before his mother was conscious enough and able to even talk about what we would name him. I had visited him often in Neo-Natal Intensive Care - NICU (Nick U) - as they call it in hospital jargon. He was small, frail and clinging to life. He had a lung collapse and in distress, chest tube through his left rib cage to keep it inflated, which would leave a nice scar for life. But he was holding on. He was not giving in and proving in the very first hours and days he could endure stress and hardship and would fight for life. It was two days after he was born that he was named. Michael James Stokely, born April 19, 1982 at 1032 hours. 4 lbs. 2 oz., a high risk premie in 1982. And despite his critical condition, he progressed and we got him out of the hospital three weeks later and home still in 4.5 lb. range, but now gaining weight measured in grams rather than ounces.
And that circular scar? Well, it was remarkable enough that on August 22, 2005, at Dover Deleware Mortuary the medical staff doing an autopsy on Mike listed it as an identifying mark. Many had asked me if I had to "identify" Mike when he came home. No, that was not the case. He was, in the version used by the military "a non-viewable body". And I understand the nature of wondering if that is really your son in that closed casket. But the scar along with other things confirmed to me it was him. Even so, you sometimes, even now, hope it can't be true. I still look at times with longing down a long driveway hoping to see him come home. I don't want to ever move from where we live because how would he find us if it was a mistake and he came home? I envision it was a ruse to cover for him doing some secret mission and he will yet come home. But each time, I know that is wishful thinking. Mike Stokely was Killed in Action by a powerful IED on August 16, 2005 near his FOB at Yusufiyah Iraq.
Tomorrow, on April 20, I will travel to Lenoir NC to bury Dad O, a man who was like a father to me as his wife, Chris Overton another mom. James Elden Overton was born April 28, 1922 and died peacefully in his sleep on April 16, 2012. He lived a long and fruitful life. He and his wife blessed all they came into contact with. If you wanted to see what a real Christian looked and acted like, James (Dad as I called him) and Chris (Mom as I called her) were what you would want to show the world. She died six years ago. They knew tragedy of losing a son, Brian killed in a collision with a train February 12, 1985. I learned so much from Mom and Dad. They were role models to say the least. In their grief, they endured with dignity and grace, never losing faith in God, trusting in a future in Heaven, and continuing to reach out to all around them, sharing all that they had and bearing the troubles of others in need. They loved Mike as dearly as they loved their own grandchildren. They loved me as a son. But our shared Christian faith tells me they are now reunited with Mike.
We shared many great times together, and yes, in our loss of sons, we shared much grief. One of my favorite photos of Mike is as a young child sitting all big and proud in Mom's big rocker, as I knelt beside him, as we grinned at each other. We spent many days and nights visiting with Dad and Mom "O" as we sometimes called them to distinguish between my beloved real mom and dad. Mike called them Daddy Jim and Momma Chris. And there are many favorite stories to tell from their home. But I would say my fondest was when Mike was just three or so and we had spent Friday night with Mom and Dad "O". Dad got up early as usual and fixed breakfast for Mike and I. He could cook really good waffles. He was in to healthy eating using fresh ground whole wheat products. He also put walnuts in his waffles for the health qualities they have. Mike sat at a little table in the kitchen eating the first waffle. As Dad and I talked, we heard Mike spit really loudly "phoooooey" and then exclaim loudly "These things got rocks in them..." Guess Mike wasn't in to healthy eating back then. Dad and I laughed. Mom was just walking into the kitchen and heard the commotion and laughter and rolled with laughter herself when we told her the story.
I close for now as it is time for me to drive the seventy miles to Mike's grave. I want to be there when 1032 hours comes. I know he is not really there. Mike is in heaven. But I still want to be there at the grave and just visit as best I can and share that moment one more time. A moment when he was born. I am so blessed to have had the privilege of being his dad and able to call him son. I thank God for honoring my prayer 30 years ago and not letting my baby die, and letting me have him, if only for a little while. 23 years, three months and 28 days was a lot longer time with him than what it looked like this morning, 23 years ago. A treasure trove of memories to go along with that time.
Let it not be lost on you that Memories matter. They sustain you when the person you love is not around, or is gone forever. For those of you with children, make many. They are more important than money, career, or things, which can be taken from you. Memories can't.
Robert Stokely
proud dad SGT Mike Stokely
KIA 16 AUG 05 near Yusufiyah Iraq
USA E 108 CAV 48th BCT GAARNG
January 31, 2012
A Fellow Dad - Robert Stokely
Long time friend of this blog, Gold Star Father and fellow blogger here and at Blackfive Robert Stokely sent me this email last night:
Robert is right, the price of freedom is a heavy price, and many in this country and around the world are no longer willing to accept the payment that it entails. Many in this country are willing to dine at the table of freedom and then leave the bill to be paid by another, and still there are many who want to accept teh cost of their freedom but when the time comes shy away from being able to commit what is really needed.
Without people like Spc Ronnie Wildrick Jr., Sgt Mike Stokely, 1LT Robert Siedel and Captain John Dennison and the thousands of others who have given their life for this country, and the tens of thousands who have given parts of their body and mind, this country would have ceased to exist a long time ago.
We owe them and their families who continue to serve a debt of gratitude.
Robert may be in awe of these fellow parents and family members of those who have given their last full measure of devotion to their country, but I am in awe of a man like Robert who can look upon others who have done as he has done and think that somehow he hasn't done anything special, a man whose only mission now is to remember the love and sacrifice of his oldest son.I had the privilege today to eat breakfast with a Retired Marine Veteran of Vietnam and other combat action. He moved to my area about two years ago. We share a bond neither wish we did - having both lost sons to the War on Terror. Some say the War on Terror began on 9/11. I look back and consider it started October 23, 1983 when a suicide truck bomber hit the Marine Barracks in Beirut Lebanon....
The father I met today lost his son in the suicide terrorist attack on the USS Cole October 12, 2000 as it was refueling in Aden Yemen. A few months ago I met a sister, now grown, but then age 8 when she lost her 20 year old brother in the Beirut Lebanon Marine Barracks bombing. In meeting her I thought of Mike's sister who was 13 when he was killed by an IED on August 16, 2005 near Yusufiyah Iraq in the Triangle of Death.
As I live life and grow older, I meet more and more who have lost sons and daughters who were brothers and sisters, husbands and wives, and dads and moms. They were someone's grandchildren, nieces and nephews. And they were friends to many. Next time someone says freedom is not free, ask them if they know what the cost of freedom is? Freedom has many costs. If lucky, some come home with only time out of their lives away from family and the privileges we enjoy in our good life in America. Some come home from war so changed they can't adapt to what they left nor those they left adapt to them. Some come home maimed for life in body and often their mind as well for PTSD is a terrible battle to fight. But there are those who give a cost so high it can only be measured in love evidenced in grief.
Today I talked with this tough Marine Dad - a career Marine who has fought and bled himself, a Drill SGT to others. Yet today, 11 years later, he wept as we talked, for he and his son gave a Lifetime of Love, a truly high payment for Freedom that is not free. Then he shared with me how he went to GITMO to witness the trial of the AQ Thug whose heavy hand was in the USS COLE attack that took his son's life. This father may weep tears, but he remains unbowed.
I was humbled and in awe of this father.Robert Stokely
Proud dad of SGT Mike Stokely
KIA 16 AUG 05 near Yusufiyah Iraq
USA E 108 CAV 48th BCT GAARNG
Robert is right, the price of freedom is a heavy price, and many in this country and around the world are no longer willing to accept the payment that it entails. Many in this country are willing to dine at the table of freedom and then leave the bill to be paid by another, and still there are many who want to accept teh cost of their freedom but when the time comes shy away from being able to commit what is really needed.
Without people like Spc Ronnie Wildrick Jr., Sgt Mike Stokely, 1LT Robert Siedel and Captain John Dennison and the thousands of others who have given their life for this country, and the tens of thousands who have given parts of their body and mind, this country would have ceased to exist a long time ago.
We owe them and their families who continue to serve a debt of gratitude.
January 24, 2012
Warhorse - A Review
Gold Star Father and friend of this blog Robert Stokely is a class act.
He and his wife went to see a movie the other night and he wrote this email / review for us.
An excerpt:
Go read the rest...you won't be disappointed.
He and his wife went to see a movie the other night and he wrote this email / review for us.
An excerpt:
"But there is one facet of Warhorse that demonstrated a vulnerability I have and I don't think I will ever live beyond. Warhorse has a good ending. A son gone to war comes home and brings his beloved horse with him. It is a quietly triumphant moment with quiet love of a mother and dad lovingly greeting their son at the front gate of their farm, hardly believing it is him, and hoping with every gaze he is whole and really alive. It is at that moment, and thankfully it came at the end of the movie for if not I don't think I could have continued watching, that I choked back sobs. It was too real for me. It was a vivid reminder what I did not get. It brought back my dreams of getting that moment even before Mike left for Iraq. It hurt.
Every parent, for that matter every family member, dreams and longs for their soldier to come home. They yearn for that moment to look with long awaited anticipation and see a son, daughter, brother, sister, husband, wife, mom or dad come home from war. They look with anticipation to see for themselves they are alive, they are "o.k." And as I think about it now, and from time to time, I am grief stricken to the point of being sick on my stomach that we didn't get to run across the parade field and bear hug Mike and cry tears of joy. Rather, we gently touched a Flag Draped Casket with tears of grief. And when we did, we were soon to be saying a final goodbye as our life story physically connected to Mike ended as we laid him to rest."
Go read the rest...you won't be disappointed.
August 17, 2011
Six Years On - Robert Stokely
Monday, August 15, 2011, I spent the day ticking down the hours until 1820 EDT which was 0220 hours local Iraq and the time Mike was killed six years ago. All day I thought "what was Mike doing, what was he thinking, how could he know in "X" hours he would be dead."
Today, when I saw this news clip, I was caught with tears in my heart as I choked back the tears in my eyes for Jeremy Henwood's kindness to a teenage young man who had politely asked him for 10 cents to be able to buy some cookies, and instead, he bought the cookies for this young teenager. If you have to die too soon, what a way to go out, with living proof on video of your kindenss in life, when you wouldn't have too and no one would have known or faulted you otherwise.
We should all be so lucky to have such story be a part of our eulogy, much less our legacy. But is it any wonder that those who serve our country and give so much by going to war multiple times would be known for such kindness and selflessness?
Robert Stokely
proud dad SGT Mike Stokely
KIA 16 AUG 05 near Yusufiyah Iraq
USA E 108 CAV 48th BCT GAARNG
Today, when I saw this news clip, I was caught with tears in my heart as I choked back the tears in my eyes for Jeremy Henwood's kindness to a teenage young man who had politely asked him for 10 cents to be able to buy some cookies, and instead, he bought the cookies for this young teenager. If you have to die too soon, what a way to go out, with living proof on video of your kindenss in life, when you wouldn't have too and no one would have known or faulted you otherwise.
We should all be so lucky to have such story be a part of our eulogy, much less our legacy. But is it any wonder that those who serve our country and give so much by going to war multiple times would be known for such kindness and selflessness?
Robert Stokely
proud dad SGT Mike Stokely
KIA 16 AUG 05 near Yusufiyah Iraq
USA E 108 CAV 48th BCT GAARNG
July 22, 2011
Moon over Yusufiyah and Ghana
This post comes to us from long time friend of this blog, Mr. Robert Stokely. If you don't know Robert, then your life has an emmense hole in it that needs filled.
Robert is the father of Sgt Mike Stokely whom this blog has written about many times. Robert is with out a doubt the best father I've ever met, and I only hope that at some point in my life as I continue to grow I can be as wonderful a person as his children have become.
Robert is the father of Sgt Mike Stokely whom this blog has written about many times. Robert is with out a doubt the best father I've ever met, and I only hope that at some point in my life as I continue to grow I can be as wonderful a person as his children have become.
You all know how proud I am of my children, and today I want to show that pride about Abbey. I have talked before of the hardships she has weathered since Mike's death and her own near death injuries from a car wreck and then Lyme Disease followed by the sudden death of her 17 year old best friend and first boyfriend. She has weathered much to say the least. She just had a great break-out year nailing her first year of college in Honors courses for pre-med at the University of Georgia, scoring all A's except one 89 in Honors Chemistry where the highest grade was a 92 - the first B she ever made in her life. She came back second semester with 4.0 including Advanced Chemistry where she only needed a 68 on the Final to get an A. Now, at age 19, after her first rigorous year of college, rather than idling away the summer with fun, sun, and shopping, carefree and catered to, she spent a good deal of her own money and we pitched in to send her on a a "study abroad" trip to Ghana Africa where she is not studying, but working for free doing medical and nutrition service work for the kids and others in that country. While they did get in some fun time and sight seeing, the bulk of the trip has been traveling around in a 12 person van with 15 people crammed in that are on the team, with a ride to an from their assignements being two hours each way each day with an 8 or so hour shift in between, and 13 hour van rides other days.My hat is off to you Robert, you're the father I and everyone I know wants to be. What a role model.
Today, Abbey posted a blog referencing that her mom, who is an Post Partum OB nurse at a Northside Hospital, which delivers about 17,000 - 20,000 babies a year, calling it a "Spa". If you have time and can, read her blog today and then it will make you think. And she has other posts not quiet so heavy, some even very funny. From around these parts we have a saying "Tough as a Lighter Knot." A lighter knot is that part of certain pine trees that is hard as a rock, will eat a saw blade up and will not decay. It is also extremely rich flamable material, such that in days gone past it was a prime ingredient in gun powder, and the gathering of "fat lighter" stumps from cut down pine trees of that variety was big business. It has a rich pungent smell that is akin to Pine Sol disinfectant on steriods. No doubt, I am a very blessed dad for a son stood up for America and Iraq and endured hardship and rigors with a smile until the moment of his death; another son too son Wes thrust into manhood by his brother's death yet he manned up without a whimper; and now Abbey. And the Mike Stokely Foundation is there with her, having sent medical and school supplies for them to use and hand-out. Obviously, our small Foundation can not even scratch the need that is there, but maybe in the life of a few children, for a short period of time, a difference was made and it will be a bridge to a better day and way of life for them.
http://dearabbeyblog.blogspot.com/
Lighter knots are marshmallows compared to Abbey.
Robert Stokely
proud dad Mike, Wes and Abbey Stokely
Remembering with Honor SGT Mike Stokely
KIA 16 AUG 05 near Yusufiyah Iraq
USA E 108 CAV 48th BCT GAARNG
November 11, 2010
Veteran's Day - 2010
Sharpsburg GA, 10 Nov. 2010 1952 hours
Dear Milblog Friends and readers:
Today as I headed to a long day at work, which usually means no lunch, I stopped for a good breakfast at a favorite restaurant, Chick-fil-A. As I sat down at the counter to order I was next to a young man (30s maybe - young to me anyway) and I presume his lovely wife. They were talking and enjoying their meal as I ordered. Normally I would say hello as that is my nature. But I didn't want to interrupt their conversation so I minded my own business. They were preparing to leave when I overheard the waitress mention their military status even though they were in civilian attire. Seems they had the day off. The wife left first and then the "young" man got ready to leave. I looked over and honestly, I noticed him a lot because his stature and age reminded me of my own son Mike, and I paid extra close attention when I heard the word "military". Then without warning it happened.
This young man turned to me unexpectedly and said "Happy Veteran's Day Sir." I was caught completely off guard as I was in civilian dress, coat and tie. Then he touched the dog tag I wear around my neck and said "Army?" I said I was not a Veteran but I would accept his well wishes on behalf and in honor of my son SGT Mike Stokely who was a Veteran. "Where's he serving at?" Then I quietly told him Mike was killed in Iraq in 2005 by a roadside bomb. Then it happened.
This young man with as sincere a look as ever I had seen, confident at that, with an appreciative pride took my hand with a firm grasp - one that was secure firmness without hurting, and gently shook it and said "Thank You for your son's service and sacrifice." As our handshake came to an end, I told this young man Thank You for his service. Then he left. But you know what? I really didn't feel like he had left, for his presence, his confidence, his look said "I am here and always will be if you have need." I don't even know his name but I will never forget his face. His face is the face of those who serve, who stand in harm's way, who commit to the needs of others greater than their own. His face is like the face of my own boy, someone willing to give his life for America.
As I sat down and my food came, my emotions welled up, tears included. My food did not need salt after that. I felt envious to have missed out on the opportunity to serve and be rightfully called a Veteran. I have few real regrets in life, but seeing what military service and commitment is and what it means to those who serve, I truly regret never having taken the oath and worn the uniform.
Most of my future is behind me. It is too late for me to serve and wear the uniform. But I can serve those who do and I am honored when that opportunity comes my way. My boy left me a rich legacy and treasure trove of friends. In the wake of Mike's death, as I struggled with my emotions and grief, many more friends through the MilBlog world have come into my life and stood me up again. Mike's old unit allows me to serve in their Family Readiness Group and I have been honored to serve as a Survivor Advisor to the Army Chief of Staff. In the past year I was privileged to represent the Mike Stokely Foundation, Inc. as a part of fund raisers held by Chick-fil-A for a seriously wounded soldier and tomorrow two fund raiser through Chick-fil-A to benefit a three tour of duty Warrior who is battling cancer and fighting for his life. I wish Mike were here, but that was not a choice I got to make in the early morning hours of August 16, 2005 on a lonely road near Yusufiyah. I will die with a broken heart, but I wake up each day and remind myself throughout the day to choose to live life with as much joy and accept the many blessings that come my way because Mike died serving America - Romans 8:28 blessings I call them. Blessing like I write of above.
Today, another of those blessing - for a young soldier to confuse me as a Veteran, wow, what a vicarious moment rich with the taste of what it must be like to rightfully deserve that Honor. I'll never be called a Veteran in a rightful sense, but I am sure proud my boy can be.
It is late in the evening here in Atlanta area and I am about to head out on the 70 mile trip to Mike's grave to dress it up with new Patriotic flowers for Veteran's Day and then to put out American Flags for the fundraiser. I have had a long day and a long night to come, with another long day to follow with work and fund raisers tomorrow. But an energy burns within me that comes from a loving memory of my boy, what he gave and more importantly, who he is. Thank you to all those who have been on this journey with me since Mike died and the encouragement and support you have generously given.
And to those who wore the uniform, Thank You for your service and your family for their sacrifice.
DUTY HONOR COUNTRY
Robert Stokely
proud dad SGT Mike Stokely, Purple Heart and Bronze Star
KIA 16 AUG 05 near Yusufiyah Iraq
US Army E 108 CAV 48th Brigade Combat Team Georgia National Guard
Dear Milblog Friends and readers:
Today as I headed to a long day at work, which usually means no lunch, I stopped for a good breakfast at a favorite restaurant, Chick-fil-A. As I sat down at the counter to order I was next to a young man (30s maybe - young to me anyway) and I presume his lovely wife. They were talking and enjoying their meal as I ordered. Normally I would say hello as that is my nature. But I didn't want to interrupt their conversation so I minded my own business. They were preparing to leave when I overheard the waitress mention their military status even though they were in civilian attire. Seems they had the day off. The wife left first and then the "young" man got ready to leave. I looked over and honestly, I noticed him a lot because his stature and age reminded me of my own son Mike, and I paid extra close attention when I heard the word "military". Then without warning it happened.
This young man turned to me unexpectedly and said "Happy Veteran's Day Sir." I was caught completely off guard as I was in civilian dress, coat and tie. Then he touched the dog tag I wear around my neck and said "Army?" I said I was not a Veteran but I would accept his well wishes on behalf and in honor of my son SGT Mike Stokely who was a Veteran. "Where's he serving at?" Then I quietly told him Mike was killed in Iraq in 2005 by a roadside bomb. Then it happened.
This young man with as sincere a look as ever I had seen, confident at that, with an appreciative pride took my hand with a firm grasp - one that was secure firmness without hurting, and gently shook it and said "Thank You for your son's service and sacrifice." As our handshake came to an end, I told this young man Thank You for his service. Then he left. But you know what? I really didn't feel like he had left, for his presence, his confidence, his look said "I am here and always will be if you have need." I don't even know his name but I will never forget his face. His face is the face of those who serve, who stand in harm's way, who commit to the needs of others greater than their own. His face is like the face of my own boy, someone willing to give his life for America.
As I sat down and my food came, my emotions welled up, tears included. My food did not need salt after that. I felt envious to have missed out on the opportunity to serve and be rightfully called a Veteran. I have few real regrets in life, but seeing what military service and commitment is and what it means to those who serve, I truly regret never having taken the oath and worn the uniform.
Most of my future is behind me. It is too late for me to serve and wear the uniform. But I can serve those who do and I am honored when that opportunity comes my way. My boy left me a rich legacy and treasure trove of friends. In the wake of Mike's death, as I struggled with my emotions and grief, many more friends through the MilBlog world have come into my life and stood me up again. Mike's old unit allows me to serve in their Family Readiness Group and I have been honored to serve as a Survivor Advisor to the Army Chief of Staff. In the past year I was privileged to represent the Mike Stokely Foundation, Inc. as a part of fund raisers held by Chick-fil-A for a seriously wounded soldier and tomorrow two fund raiser through Chick-fil-A to benefit a three tour of duty Warrior who is battling cancer and fighting for his life. I wish Mike were here, but that was not a choice I got to make in the early morning hours of August 16, 2005 on a lonely road near Yusufiyah. I will die with a broken heart, but I wake up each day and remind myself throughout the day to choose to live life with as much joy and accept the many blessings that come my way because Mike died serving America - Romans 8:28 blessings I call them. Blessing like I write of above.
Today, another of those blessing - for a young soldier to confuse me as a Veteran, wow, what a vicarious moment rich with the taste of what it must be like to rightfully deserve that Honor. I'll never be called a Veteran in a rightful sense, but I am sure proud my boy can be.
It is late in the evening here in Atlanta area and I am about to head out on the 70 mile trip to Mike's grave to dress it up with new Patriotic flowers for Veteran's Day and then to put out American Flags for the fundraiser. I have had a long day and a long night to come, with another long day to follow with work and fund raisers tomorrow. But an energy burns within me that comes from a loving memory of my boy, what he gave and more importantly, who he is. Thank you to all those who have been on this journey with me since Mike died and the encouragement and support you have generously given.
And to those who wore the uniform, Thank You for your service and your family for their sacrifice.
DUTY HONOR COUNTRY
Robert Stokely
proud dad SGT Mike Stokely, Purple Heart and Bronze Star
KIA 16 AUG 05 near Yusufiyah Iraq
US Army E 108 CAV 48th Brigade Combat Team Georgia National Guard
September 9, 2010
Contrast of Respect - Robert Stokely
Maybe take a moment to read this news article I found on AOL:
Yes, that is right, folks sucking off the good ole' American Freedom straw want to show Taliban killing our military personnel who are actually dying in real time while this video game is being produced and promoted. Wow, that builds support for the home team by marginalizing the lives of our beloved military personnel who are serving in a real war and dying real deaths, coming home really maimed, and that leaves lives really altered for all time to come, whether emotionally or financially or both. Wow, what patriotism these video artists show.... (sick).
Now contrast that with this rendition of the National Anthem, which by the way, I happen to have had a non-singing part along with my son Wes and 20 plus other family members of Georgia Fallen Soldiers as we held a 50 x 80 foot American Flag. Pay attention to the respect for America given the Star Spangled Banner; how it is passionately sung, watch the reverence of 93,000 plus fans, and look at the drivers, crews and their family as they show respect, especially those who held their hands over their heart. And hey, who can discount a couple fighter jets overhead.... I have watched over and over and I can't say what is my favorite part, but if I had to make a call, then the scene where the wife / mom holding her little blond child next to her husband / Matt Kenseth NASCAR driver track side speaks volumes to me. It reminds me of those many times I held Mike and a moment in time shortly after he died when I sat in a parking lot and began to cry as I watched a parent walk by holding the hand of their small child. As I cried I asked myself how did I go from a car seat to a casket in 20 short years... and I was again reminded how much I had lost. But the scene I just described brings joy to my heart, for a new day emerges for a new young family to look hopefully to the future with freedom abundant. So, take a few minutes to watch this live moment in time from the other night at Atlanta Motor Speedway Sprint Cup NASCAR Race, as captured on YouTube:
You know, a bomb exploding and sending shrapnel flying through the air killed my boy. Many others in the War on Terror have died in a similar fashion. When the Star Spangled Banner is played, I stand at Attention, place my right hand clutching my boy's Dog Tag over my heart, and even though my singing is horrible, I at least mouth the words to my best ability. And when it gets to the part "bombs bursting in air" I can't help but softly sob as I lower my head and shut my eyes in reverence and envision my boy going down for Freedom that early morning near Yusufiyah.
There is a right way and a wrong way to do something. But those with their video game killing American Soldiers are fortunate they don't have to worry about it. You see, they don't operate under Taliban or Al-Qaeda rule. The video game promoters are free to produce and sell this "game" because of the sacrifice of the very soldiers they want to mock through an exercise of free speech / expression, even as they disrespect those who paid a high cost for such freedom. Even as they disregard the feelings of the family of the Fallen.
When people ask me what can they can do to make it better for me and my family, I tell them nothing can really make it better unless we get Mike back. But I also tell them they can come close by Making it Matter what Mike and so many others like him have given. To Make it Matter all one has to do is Remember with Honor.
Atlanta Motor Speedway, Ernie Haas Signature Sound and those in attendance who showed respect the other night, and especially Mrs. Kennseth holding her small child and obviously showing such respect while enjoying the moment, Made it Matter and Remembered with Honor what those who die on the field of battle and their families have paid toward the high cost of freedom. A price that is too dear to quantify in dollars.
A Lifetime of Love.
Robert Stokely
proud dad SGT Mike Stokely, Bronze Star and Purple Heart
KIA 16 AUG 05 near Yusufiyah Iraq
USA E 108 CAV 48th BCT GAARNG
US Military Bans 'Medal of Honor' Video Game Over 'Taliban Mode'
(Sept. 8) -- Sometimes, even pretending to the bad guy is bad enough.
That, at least, appears to be the official position of the U.S. military, which today banned the new multiplayer video game "Medal of Honor" from bases because gamers can assume the on-screen, fictitious identity of a Taliban member fighting against American troops in a vividly rendered, digital approximation of Afghanistan.
"We regret any inconvenience this may cause authorized shoppers but are optimistic that they will understand the sensitivity to the life-and-death scenarios this product presents as entertainment, " Maj. Gen. Bruce Casella, whose office manages stores on more than 180 U.S. bases, told The Associated Press.
Yes, that is right, folks sucking off the good ole' American Freedom straw want to show Taliban killing our military personnel who are actually dying in real time while this video game is being produced and promoted. Wow, that builds support for the home team by marginalizing the lives of our beloved military personnel who are serving in a real war and dying real deaths, coming home really maimed, and that leaves lives really altered for all time to come, whether emotionally or financially or both. Wow, what patriotism these video artists show.... (sick).
Now contrast that with this rendition of the National Anthem, which by the way, I happen to have had a non-singing part along with my son Wes and 20 plus other family members of Georgia Fallen Soldiers as we held a 50 x 80 foot American Flag. Pay attention to the respect for America given the Star Spangled Banner; how it is passionately sung, watch the reverence of 93,000 plus fans, and look at the drivers, crews and their family as they show respect, especially those who held their hands over their heart. And hey, who can discount a couple fighter jets overhead.... I have watched over and over and I can't say what is my favorite part, but if I had to make a call, then the scene where the wife / mom holding her little blond child next to her husband / Matt Kenseth NASCAR driver track side speaks volumes to me. It reminds me of those many times I held Mike and a moment in time shortly after he died when I sat in a parking lot and began to cry as I watched a parent walk by holding the hand of their small child. As I cried I asked myself how did I go from a car seat to a casket in 20 short years... and I was again reminded how much I had lost. But the scene I just described brings joy to my heart, for a new day emerges for a new young family to look hopefully to the future with freedom abundant. So, take a few minutes to watch this live moment in time from the other night at Atlanta Motor Speedway Sprint Cup NASCAR Race, as captured on YouTube:
You know, a bomb exploding and sending shrapnel flying through the air killed my boy. Many others in the War on Terror have died in a similar fashion. When the Star Spangled Banner is played, I stand at Attention, place my right hand clutching my boy's Dog Tag over my heart, and even though my singing is horrible, I at least mouth the words to my best ability. And when it gets to the part "bombs bursting in air" I can't help but softly sob as I lower my head and shut my eyes in reverence and envision my boy going down for Freedom that early morning near Yusufiyah.
There is a right way and a wrong way to do something. But those with their video game killing American Soldiers are fortunate they don't have to worry about it. You see, they don't operate under Taliban or Al-Qaeda rule. The video game promoters are free to produce and sell this "game" because of the sacrifice of the very soldiers they want to mock through an exercise of free speech / expression, even as they disrespect those who paid a high cost for such freedom. Even as they disregard the feelings of the family of the Fallen.
When people ask me what can they can do to make it better for me and my family, I tell them nothing can really make it better unless we get Mike back. But I also tell them they can come close by Making it Matter what Mike and so many others like him have given. To Make it Matter all one has to do is Remember with Honor.
Atlanta Motor Speedway, Ernie Haas Signature Sound and those in attendance who showed respect the other night, and especially Mrs. Kennseth holding her small child and obviously showing such respect while enjoying the moment, Made it Matter and Remembered with Honor what those who die on the field of battle and their families have paid toward the high cost of freedom. A price that is too dear to quantify in dollars.
A Lifetime of Love.
Robert Stokely
proud dad SGT Mike Stokely, Bronze Star and Purple Heart
KIA 16 AUG 05 near Yusufiyah Iraq
USA E 108 CAV 48th BCT GAARNG
September 4, 2010
Atlanta Motor Speedway to honor the Families of Georgia's Fallen Warriors
Atlanta Motor Speedway and NASCAR will honor Georgia's Fallen by having members of their families unfurl a 50 x 80 foot American Flag during a song which is a special rendition of the Pledge of Allegiance. ESPN is covering the race starting at 1900 hours EDT but no guarantee what part of the pre-race ceremonies they will cover, including the scheduled 1915 hours American Flag unfurling. Hopefully they will, at least some of it.
Atlanta Motor Speedway is providing tours and other events for those family members participating in the flag unfurling, including really good seats for the race. To my knowledge, no other track has actually done this, but if anyone knows of one that has, please let me know so I can stand corrected.
Robert Stokely
proud dad SGT Mike Stokely
KIA 16 AUG 05 near Yusufiyah Iraq
Home of Record - Sharpsburg and Loganville GA
USA E 108 CAV 48th BCT GAARNG
Atlanta Motor Speedway is providing tours and other events for those family members participating in the flag unfurling, including really good seats for the race. To my knowledge, no other track has actually done this, but if anyone knows of one that has, please let me know so I can stand corrected.
Robert Stokely
proud dad SGT Mike Stokely
KIA 16 AUG 05 near Yusufiyah Iraq
Home of Record - Sharpsburg and Loganville GA
USA E 108 CAV 48th BCT GAARNG
August 25, 2010
An Air Cargo Hanger Five Years Ago....
The hour of 1700 24 Aug eastern daylight time has now come and gone, and all afternoon I watched the clock as I worked. It has now been five years since I stood in an open doorway at an air cargo hanger for US Airways at Atlanta Hartsfield Airport and watched as an Escort Sergeant and the Casualty Assistance Officer uncrated Mike's Casket and drape the American Flag over him, neatly cornering it out and not accepting anything less than perfection. I stood there, large tears dripping down my cheeks onto my coat, tie and dress shirt, trying to give a proper salute to Mike, an untrained civilian whose hand trembled against my forehead, my chest aching pain of a grieving heart. An office full of workers whose day was like any other suddenly realized what was happening and froze and stared. They were to say the least, aghast having been caught by surprise at the moment. As the Escort Sergeant and CAO satisfied themselves Mike's Flag was properly draped, they turned and looked at me, nodding with approval and I released my salute as they slid his Flag Draped Casket into the waiting hearse. I walked outside needing fresh air, but more importantly to call my wife Retta, as I had come alone. As she answered the phone I simply said "Our Boy is Home" and then the tears became a sob in unison as she sobbed from the other end. After a few moments I got in the hearse and rode the 30 plus miles to the funeral home, where Mike's mom and other dad were waiting and he would stay overnight, unannounced so the community could be given notice the next day and have their desired opportunity to welcome Mike home. It was the best we could do with just a two hour call block he was coming in.
Mike's Flag Draped Casket was just inches over my shoulder as we traveled many of the same roads he and I traveled over the years as I went back and forth with him on weekend, holiday and summer visitation trips between his mom's home and my home. Many moments of remembering, whether singing a goofy song, yelling up at our favorite local traffic copter announcer (Scott Slade who Mike called Scott Wade as a little boy), eating at a Burger King with a playground, visiting a game ranch where Mike once had to rescue his younger brother Wes from a somewhat aggressive small deer. Every mile was a memory, and yet another moment for a broken heart to ache even more. It was a long ride but not nearly long enough, and over too soon and then, it was time to share him with others.... It was my Last Ride to Take My Boy Home. It is burned in my memory as vividly as scenes on film captured on DVD. As I go monthly or more often to tend Mike's grave and visit him I travel by Hartsfield just eyeball distance from that Air Cargo Hanger on a monthly basis, sometimes more often, as well as many of the same highways we traveled that moment in time five years ago. I never fail to look over going and coming and feel that moment and remember my first glimpse of my Boy's Flag Draped Casket, and I never want to forget the pain, for to hurt deep you had to love deep.
People ask me about Mike, how I am doing, and sometimes how I cope and I like that, for it means they Remember Him. I tell them I will die with a broken heart, but I choose to live with as much joy as possible, for God gives us life, and my Boy would want me to go on and live as full and happy a life as possible. I owe it to God and my Boy and it is the least I can. And in a selfish way, it is my sticking it back to those who killed Mike, my way of taunting them and saying you hurt us bad but you failed to take us all out and we will now stand up and we will not cower, we will not retreat, we will not blame in bitterness and WE WILL REMEMBER MIKE WITH HONOR. I openly say that those who killed Mike and would rob our country of freedom would have been better off to have left him alone, for they awoke an entire family, community and many new friends around the world. Those who killed Mike failed, and he won. Mike and our family are not the only ones they failed with, for the Families of the Fallen in the War on Terror, even though knocked to their knees, as a whole, rose again to stand as tall as they might, joined by millions of supporters at home and hundreds of thousands of fellow soldiers and their families who stayed engaged, some many deployments over, even knowing what could happen.
Cut and Run was not a strategy, option or path to victory. Duty, Honor, Country, and might I now add Sacrifice, was! When others called to leave, those who really counted said no, I will go, some again and again, and many more gave their lives, while others had their lives altered in many ways. One in particular is SFC Mark Allen who served with Mike. Upon his redeployment from Iraq in 2006, he had a safe full time job at the State level with the Georgia Army National Guard. In mid 2008, when he got wind that a lot of his Iraq battle buddies, now with Bravo 2/121 of the 48th GAARNG were likely going to get orders in the coming year to deploy to Afghanistan, he demanded his way out of the safe job and into Bravo 2/121. I shall never forget on the 3rd anniversary gathering at Mike's grave, Mark and his wife came as they had the previous two years, and brought their one month old daughter and stood in the hot evening sun. He told me of his plans and hope to have orders to join Bravo 2/121 in a month or so. I was the unit's Family Readiness Chairperson and a month later at the Armory, which is near my work, in he pops and says its official "I'm here." Mark and his wife weren't with us at the fourth anniversary gathering, and a few days before I visited them at Bethesda where Mark lay in a coma from a serious gunshot wound and brain injury sustained in a fierce firefight where his squad encountered overwhelming enemy forces and fire on July 8, 2009, just a month into his Afghan deployment. I looked at Mark's wife as she cooed to him and stroked his arm telling him I was there. I choked back tears and mumbled "You all have to be the bravest folks I know because you saw up close and personal what happened to us, yet you went again." Mark Allen has only recently began to make the first simple steps of cognitive recognition, but they are steps that the odds didn't support were possible. And you know what, if he could get out of the bed, he would go again.
And there are so many more like the Allens. There are more of the Allens than the "others" who want to slurp at the fountain of freedom but who don't want to do any lifting, much less the heavy lifting, and when it gets tough are the first to call for cut and run. It is because of those like the Allens that we will endure, we will prevail and we will live free.
And it is because of those like the Allens, the Chuck Z, Greyhawks, Blackfive, Thunderrun, They have Names, Patti Patton-Bader and her entire SA organization too many to mention, as well as so many others that space and time can not measure, that my broken heart can rest gently on their support and endure with assurance that what Mike did mattered and what he gave will be Remembered with Honor. And I have to think thus it is so for the many like me. What a blessing to live among such great people in such a great country.
DUTY HONOR COUNTRY.
Robert Stokely
proud dad SGT Mike Stokely, Bronze Star and Purple Heart.
KIA 16 AUG 05 near Yusufiyah Iraq
US Army E 108 CAV 48th BCT GAARNG
Mike's Flag Draped Casket was just inches over my shoulder as we traveled many of the same roads he and I traveled over the years as I went back and forth with him on weekend, holiday and summer visitation trips between his mom's home and my home. Many moments of remembering, whether singing a goofy song, yelling up at our favorite local traffic copter announcer (Scott Slade who Mike called Scott Wade as a little boy), eating at a Burger King with a playground, visiting a game ranch where Mike once had to rescue his younger brother Wes from a somewhat aggressive small deer. Every mile was a memory, and yet another moment for a broken heart to ache even more. It was a long ride but not nearly long enough, and over too soon and then, it was time to share him with others.... It was my Last Ride to Take My Boy Home. It is burned in my memory as vividly as scenes on film captured on DVD. As I go monthly or more often to tend Mike's grave and visit him I travel by Hartsfield just eyeball distance from that Air Cargo Hanger on a monthly basis, sometimes more often, as well as many of the same highways we traveled that moment in time five years ago. I never fail to look over going and coming and feel that moment and remember my first glimpse of my Boy's Flag Draped Casket, and I never want to forget the pain, for to hurt deep you had to love deep.
People ask me about Mike, how I am doing, and sometimes how I cope and I like that, for it means they Remember Him. I tell them I will die with a broken heart, but I choose to live with as much joy as possible, for God gives us life, and my Boy would want me to go on and live as full and happy a life as possible. I owe it to God and my Boy and it is the least I can. And in a selfish way, it is my sticking it back to those who killed Mike, my way of taunting them and saying you hurt us bad but you failed to take us all out and we will now stand up and we will not cower, we will not retreat, we will not blame in bitterness and WE WILL REMEMBER MIKE WITH HONOR. I openly say that those who killed Mike and would rob our country of freedom would have been better off to have left him alone, for they awoke an entire family, community and many new friends around the world. Those who killed Mike failed, and he won. Mike and our family are not the only ones they failed with, for the Families of the Fallen in the War on Terror, even though knocked to their knees, as a whole, rose again to stand as tall as they might, joined by millions of supporters at home and hundreds of thousands of fellow soldiers and their families who stayed engaged, some many deployments over, even knowing what could happen.
Cut and Run was not a strategy, option or path to victory. Duty, Honor, Country, and might I now add Sacrifice, was! When others called to leave, those who really counted said no, I will go, some again and again, and many more gave their lives, while others had their lives altered in many ways. One in particular is SFC Mark Allen who served with Mike. Upon his redeployment from Iraq in 2006, he had a safe full time job at the State level with the Georgia Army National Guard. In mid 2008, when he got wind that a lot of his Iraq battle buddies, now with Bravo 2/121 of the 48th GAARNG were likely going to get orders in the coming year to deploy to Afghanistan, he demanded his way out of the safe job and into Bravo 2/121. I shall never forget on the 3rd anniversary gathering at Mike's grave, Mark and his wife came as they had the previous two years, and brought their one month old daughter and stood in the hot evening sun. He told me of his plans and hope to have orders to join Bravo 2/121 in a month or so. I was the unit's Family Readiness Chairperson and a month later at the Armory, which is near my work, in he pops and says its official "I'm here." Mark and his wife weren't with us at the fourth anniversary gathering, and a few days before I visited them at Bethesda where Mark lay in a coma from a serious gunshot wound and brain injury sustained in a fierce firefight where his squad encountered overwhelming enemy forces and fire on July 8, 2009, just a month into his Afghan deployment. I looked at Mark's wife as she cooed to him and stroked his arm telling him I was there. I choked back tears and mumbled "You all have to be the bravest folks I know because you saw up close and personal what happened to us, yet you went again." Mark Allen has only recently began to make the first simple steps of cognitive recognition, but they are steps that the odds didn't support were possible. And you know what, if he could get out of the bed, he would go again.
And there are so many more like the Allens. There are more of the Allens than the "others" who want to slurp at the fountain of freedom but who don't want to do any lifting, much less the heavy lifting, and when it gets tough are the first to call for cut and run. It is because of those like the Allens that we will endure, we will prevail and we will live free.
And it is because of those like the Allens, the Chuck Z, Greyhawks, Blackfive, Thunderrun, They have Names, Patti Patton-Bader and her entire SA organization too many to mention, as well as so many others that space and time can not measure, that my broken heart can rest gently on their support and endure with assurance that what Mike did mattered and what he gave will be Remembered with Honor. And I have to think thus it is so for the many like me. What a blessing to live among such great people in such a great country.
DUTY HONOR COUNTRY.
Robert Stokely
proud dad SGT Mike Stokely, Bronze Star and Purple Heart.
KIA 16 AUG 05 near Yusufiyah Iraq
US Army E 108 CAV 48th BCT GAARNG
July 22, 2010
The World Needs More Men Like Him?
"The world needs more men like him."A quote from British Ambassador to Lebanon, Frances Guy, stated at the passing of Sheikh Mohammed Hussein Fadlallah. Who?
Sheikh Mohammed Hussein Fadlallah had this to say about the bombing of the U.S. Marine Barracks as he gave an interview in 2002:
"I was not the one who launched the idea of so-called suicide bombings, but I have certainly argued in favor of them."
http://www.aolnews.com/opinion/article/opinion-the-praise-of-sheikh-mohammed-hussein-fadlallah-shows-a-silent-contempt-of-islam/19563457
Oh, did I mention that Sheikh Mohammed Hussein Fadlallah was the spiritual head of Hezbollah, one of the world's most deadly terrorist organizations and the murderous puppet of Iran?
With this coming in the wake of the release of the Lockerbie Pan Am Bomber, one has reason to wonder what direction Britain is taking as a government and how much we can or should rely upon them in the future. One could start to wonder if maybe these two incidents are a hint that Britain has lost its ability to distinguish the line between terrorists and humanity, or whether we are looking at the early signs of a 21st century Islamic "diplomacy" that is akin to the default to Germany regarding Poland in the days leading up to WW II.
What are they thinking across the pond, or are they at all?
Robert Stokely
proud dad SGT Mike Stokely
KIA 16 AUG 05 near Yusufiyah Iraq
US Army, E 108 CAV 48th BCT GAARNG
May 31, 2010
REMEMBER WITH HONOR - A LIFETIME OF LOVE HAS BEEN GIVEN
[Ed Note: This is a repost from 2009]
~~~
Memorial means "serving, or intended, to preserve the memory... to keep in remembrance". Here is an Excerpt from the Order designating May 30, 1868 as Memorial Day:
...We should guard their graves with sacred vigilance. All that the consecrated wealth and taste of the nation can add to their adornment and security, is but a fitting tribute to the memory of her slain defenders. Let pleasant paths invite the coming and going of reverent visitors and fond mourners. Let no neglect, no ravages of time, testify to the present or to the coming generations that we have forgotten...
proud dad SGT Mike Stokely
KIA 16 AUG 05 near Yusufiyah Iraq
USA E 108 CAV 48th BCT GAARNG
~~~
Memorial means "serving, or intended, to preserve the memory... to keep in remembrance". Here is an Excerpt from the Order designating May 30, 1868 as Memorial Day:
...We should guard their graves with sacred vigilance. All that the consecrated wealth and taste of the nation can add to their adornment and security, is but a fitting tribute to the memory of her slain defenders. Let pleasant paths invite the coming and going of reverent visitors and fond mourners. Let no neglect, no ravages of time, testify to the present or to the coming generations that we have forgotten...
The gravestones at Arlington National Cemetery graced by U.S. flags
Ask yourself an honest question - Is that how America views Memorial Day? Honestly, I have to say that before my son went to war and died, it wasn't for me and from what I have observed, it isn't for most of America.
There are many costs of Freedom, but on Memorial Day we should only focus on and Remember the Fallen with Honor for their sacrifice is the highest cost to maintain freedom - A Lifetime of Love
On Memorial Day, let us each strive to serve with intention to preserve the memory of the Fallen, for as has been said, a nation who forgets its Fallen will itself soon be forgotten.
Duty Honor Country,
Robert Stokelyproud dad SGT Mike Stokely
KIA 16 AUG 05 near Yusufiyah Iraq
USA E 108 CAV 48th BCT GAARNG
May 28, 2010
Graduation Night - Moon over Yusufiyah
The Stokely family sat in a football stadium on a warm Friday night just before Memorial Day 2001 to watch Mike Stokely graduate high school. He already had boot camp / basic training and a year in the National Guard under his belt and would be heading off for Advanced Individual Training at Ft. Gordon in a few weeks. His little sister, Abbey, almost nine, couldn't let go of him, even to have a photo taken with Mike and their brother, Wes. She swung on his arm adoringly - her look of love says it all.
Tonight, May 27, 2010 at the football stadium for Northgate High School in Sharpsburg GA, Abbey Stokely graduated last with her class. She has had a rough five years that started with Mike's death in Iraq. Five months later, she and I were broad sided by a driver who ran a stop sign at 45 plus and rolled and flipped us several times, shearing her right rear passenger door away. She spent 18 months recovering from her serious neck, back, and head injury. Those two events might seem enough to cause a student to graduate last.
But more came her way for just a month or so after she was fully recovered from the wreck. She was bitten by a tick and came down with Lyme Disease. In GA and the south there is a medical bias against diagnosing or even recognizing that Lyme Disease exists here and doctor after doctor refused to treat her for Lyme, saying she just needed psychological help due to her brother's death and the car wreck. She missed over half her class instruction time during her sophomore and junior years, essentially home schooling herself between extensive rest periods, migraines, sickness, dizziness, and other symptoms that doctors said was just "in her head" and not Lyme. She and her mother traveled out of state to see doctors who might treat her for Lyme and finally we found a doctor about two hours from our home in GA that started aggressive treatment for Lyme and she finally started getting better. That might be enough by itself, but especially with the continuing grief over her brother's loss and her own near death experience to cause her to be last, but more was to come.
As she ended her junior year her best friend for several years had become her first boyfriend - the one Mike was supposed to chase away. But I think he might have let this fine young man who had been so good to his sister in all of her grief, injuries and sickness stay around. A gentleman in every respect was Thomas Broadwater. A fine son and brother-in-law he might have one day made. They went to the prom together and a great night it was, but then the next day my mother / Abbey's grandmother fell seriously ill at age 81 and died a week later. Looking back, it is about the most normal thing that has happened to Abbey in these five years. Her "Nana" adored her as she adored Nana. Enough you might think. But not yet, for three weeks after burying her Nana, Abbey Stokely buried her best friend, her first boyfriend, Thomas Broadwater, who died from complications of surgery on one of his lungs.
So, you might think that was enough and it was almost too much for her to bear. Thomas was also her classmate and supposed to graduate with Abbey and 395 others tonight. This last year has not been easy to say the least. Surely, this explains why she was the last. She wanted her brother Mike to be there to cheer for her and she felt it so unfair that Thomas wasn't there to get his diploma. And that weighed heavily on her. We were tense to see if she would get through this graduation tonight, an emotional time for her to say the least.
But none of these things are why Abbey Stokely was last to graduate with her class tonight. Abbey Stokely graduated last tonight because she was the Valedictorian and by tradition the last to receive her diploma and graduate. Before rising to give her speech to send her classmates into the future, she watched with bittersweet pride as a member of Thomas Broadwater's family came forward to receive his diploma posthumously. Then, she nailed her speech in front of thousands of friends, family and strangers. Just as she finished, a downpour hit and drenched the graduates and the crowd. A mile away not a drop.
I first wondered why it rained there. But then, as I saw the rising full moon emerge from behind the clouds, The same Moon over Yusufiyah I watched night after night as Mike served in Iraq, even as I prayed for his safety and wished to feel close to him, knowing he had seen the same moon 8 hours before. It was then I wondered if it was Mike's tears of joy and pride for his sister that had just drenched us all.
The Moon over Yusufiyah was shining bright over Sharpsburg tonight.
And I was reminded again that the highest cost of Freedom is A Lifetime of Love.
Robert Stokely
proud dad of Abbey Stokely, Wes Stokely
and Mike Stokely KIA 16 AUG 05 near Yusufiyah Iraq
Tonight, May 27, 2010 at the football stadium for Northgate High School in Sharpsburg GA, Abbey Stokely graduated last with her class. She has had a rough five years that started with Mike's death in Iraq. Five months later, she and I were broad sided by a driver who ran a stop sign at 45 plus and rolled and flipped us several times, shearing her right rear passenger door away. She spent 18 months recovering from her serious neck, back, and head injury. Those two events might seem enough to cause a student to graduate last.
But more came her way for just a month or so after she was fully recovered from the wreck. She was bitten by a tick and came down with Lyme Disease. In GA and the south there is a medical bias against diagnosing or even recognizing that Lyme Disease exists here and doctor after doctor refused to treat her for Lyme, saying she just needed psychological help due to her brother's death and the car wreck. She missed over half her class instruction time during her sophomore and junior years, essentially home schooling herself between extensive rest periods, migraines, sickness, dizziness, and other symptoms that doctors said was just "in her head" and not Lyme. She and her mother traveled out of state to see doctors who might treat her for Lyme and finally we found a doctor about two hours from our home in GA that started aggressive treatment for Lyme and she finally started getting better. That might be enough by itself, but especially with the continuing grief over her brother's loss and her own near death experience to cause her to be last, but more was to come.
As she ended her junior year her best friend for several years had become her first boyfriend - the one Mike was supposed to chase away. But I think he might have let this fine young man who had been so good to his sister in all of her grief, injuries and sickness stay around. A gentleman in every respect was Thomas Broadwater. A fine son and brother-in-law he might have one day made. They went to the prom together and a great night it was, but then the next day my mother / Abbey's grandmother fell seriously ill at age 81 and died a week later. Looking back, it is about the most normal thing that has happened to Abbey in these five years. Her "Nana" adored her as she adored Nana. Enough you might think. But not yet, for three weeks after burying her Nana, Abbey Stokely buried her best friend, her first boyfriend, Thomas Broadwater, who died from complications of surgery on one of his lungs.
So, you might think that was enough and it was almost too much for her to bear. Thomas was also her classmate and supposed to graduate with Abbey and 395 others tonight. This last year has not been easy to say the least. Surely, this explains why she was the last. She wanted her brother Mike to be there to cheer for her and she felt it so unfair that Thomas wasn't there to get his diploma. And that weighed heavily on her. We were tense to see if she would get through this graduation tonight, an emotional time for her to say the least.
But none of these things are why Abbey Stokely was last to graduate with her class tonight. Abbey Stokely graduated last tonight because she was the Valedictorian and by tradition the last to receive her diploma and graduate. Before rising to give her speech to send her classmates into the future, she watched with bittersweet pride as a member of Thomas Broadwater's family came forward to receive his diploma posthumously. Then, she nailed her speech in front of thousands of friends, family and strangers. Just as she finished, a downpour hit and drenched the graduates and the crowd. A mile away not a drop.
I first wondered why it rained there. But then, as I saw the rising full moon emerge from behind the clouds, The same Moon over Yusufiyah I watched night after night as Mike served in Iraq, even as I prayed for his safety and wished to feel close to him, knowing he had seen the same moon 8 hours before. It was then I wondered if it was Mike's tears of joy and pride for his sister that had just drenched us all.
The Moon over Yusufiyah was shining bright over Sharpsburg tonight.
And I was reminded again that the highest cost of Freedom is A Lifetime of Love.
Robert Stokely
proud dad of Abbey Stokely, Wes Stokely
and Mike Stokely KIA 16 AUG 05 near Yusufiyah Iraq
March 19, 2010
Georgia HB 1012 - Gold Star Family License Plate - Stuck on Motor Vehicle Chair Tom Rice's Desk
HELP: GEORGIA LEGISLATION (NOT US Congress) DISTRIBUTE AT WILL: NEED LOT OF CALLS, EMAILS TO REP. TOM RICE - BE NICE THOUGH!!!
In 2006 I asked the Georgia Legislature to enact a Gold Star Family Tag to honor the fallen and allow the families to show their pride and love for their fallen. But someone gutted part of it. The spouse, mother and father were allowed one tag and one only, no matter how many cars they owned. The children, siblings and parents by marriage (I hate the word step-parents) were not even allowed to buy a tag. But it is known as Honoring the Family of the Fallen Tag officially and generically known as the Gold Star Family License Plate. This year I asked my friend and State Rep to help get this bill amended to allow the entire family access to the tag and to allow them to have one for each car they may own. This is not going to cost Georgia one penny, and in fact would actually bring them some money in a badly depleted treasury.
Not sure what has happened, but what seemed a no brainer seems to have hit a snag. Georgia House Rep. Tom Rice, Chairman of the Motor Vehicle Committee allowed other tag legislation to pass on through his committee today, but did not allow HB 1012 to be considered and it has sat there idle and will remain idle until he allows it on the calendar for his committee to vote on. We need to get it on with do pass so the Rules Committee can put it on the House Floor Calendar for a full vote. It has to get from there to the Senate side of the Georgia Legislature before "cross-over day" in another week or else it is automatically dead on arrival. I need your help to encourage honoring the fallen from Georgia, especially our Georgia National Guardsmen and their families, by contacting Rep. Rice :
http://www.legis.state.ga.us/legis/2009_10/house/bios/riceTom/riceTom.htm
Light up his phone and email and help me and so many other families of the Georgia Fallen out on this one.
Robert Stokely
In 2006 I asked the Georgia Legislature to enact a Gold Star Family Tag to honor the fallen and allow the families to show their pride and love for their fallen. But someone gutted part of it. The spouse, mother and father were allowed one tag and one only, no matter how many cars they owned. The children, siblings and parents by marriage (I hate the word step-parents) were not even allowed to buy a tag. But it is known as Honoring the Family of the Fallen Tag officially and generically known as the Gold Star Family License Plate. This year I asked my friend and State Rep to help get this bill amended to allow the entire family access to the tag and to allow them to have one for each car they may own. This is not going to cost Georgia one penny, and in fact would actually bring them some money in a badly depleted treasury.
Not sure what has happened, but what seemed a no brainer seems to have hit a snag. Georgia House Rep. Tom Rice, Chairman of the Motor Vehicle Committee allowed other tag legislation to pass on through his committee today, but did not allow HB 1012 to be considered and it has sat there idle and will remain idle until he allows it on the calendar for his committee to vote on. We need to get it on with do pass so the Rules Committee can put it on the House Floor Calendar for a full vote. It has to get from there to the Senate side of the Georgia Legislature before "cross-over day" in another week or else it is automatically dead on arrival. I need your help to encourage honoring the fallen from Georgia, especially our Georgia National Guardsmen and their families, by contacting Rep. Rice :
http://www.legis.state.ga.us/legis/2009_10/house/bios/riceTom/riceTom.htm
Light up his phone and email and help me and so many other families of the Georgia Fallen out on this one.
Robert Stokely
March 2, 2010
Al Gore Drives Past Rear Operating Base Stokely...
I realize to many this ain't snow, but for Georgia folks south of Atlanta, it is about as good as it gets, our second one this winter and third may hit tomorrow (we usually get zero snow). A friend gave us the flag and flag pole after Mike was KIA August 16, 2005. We fly it 24/7. I sure miss my "boy"....
DUTY HONOR COUNTRY.
Robert Stokely
proud dad SGT Mike Stokely
KIA 16 AUG 05 near Yusufiyah Iraq
USA E 108 CAV 48th BCT GAARNG
DUTY HONOR COUNTRY.
Robert Stokely
proud dad SGT Mike Stokely
KIA 16 AUG 05 near Yusufiyah Iraq
USA E 108 CAV 48th BCT GAARNG
February 19, 2010
Washington DC / Government shut down by Snowmagedon - well, not totally - Robert Stokely
We have all heard about Snowmagedon and how Washington DC and our Federal Government was shut down here recently with the heavy snow. Even snow plows called back in.
Well, not exactly - check out these photos from Arlington and the Tomb of the Unknown Soldiers.
Even though there were no visitors, they did their job, for their job is not to entertain, but to show honor and respect to the Unknown Soldiers as an overall show of appreciation for the sacrifice of all fallen soldiers.
Robert Stokely
Well, not exactly - check out these photos from Arlington and the Tomb of the Unknown Soldiers.
Even though there were no visitors, they did their job, for their job is not to entertain, but to show honor and respect to the Unknown Soldiers as an overall show of appreciation for the sacrifice of all fallen soldiers.
Robert Stokely
November 20, 2009
How Much is "My Fair Share of Sacrifice?" - Robert Stokely
When this man speaks - I listen, you should too:
Want to do something?
Contact your Senator here:
Contact your Represenative here:
My thoughts:
So, these "fine men" want you to pay a tax for the privledge of NOT having your son or daughter killed in combat. But wait there's more! If your son or daughter is married and names their spouse their insurance beneficiary...you still get to pay!
I have two words for these "fine gentlemen".... Fuck and You....they can put them together in the proper order.
Now do you want to do something?
Contact the miscreants here:
Dave Obey:
Barney Frank:
John Murtha:
11 Congress Members Who Want to Pass a Tax to "Share the Sacrifice" of War
By Robert Stokely
My friends in MilBlog community: I am sorry but right now I am somewhat having one of those anger induced bladder discharge moments. And sorry if this is not very well proof read - I tried, but it made me more angry each time I thought about this legislation. But read on if you like.
First, read this, article where: House Appropriations Committee Chairman Dave Obey, and Representative John Murtha, who chairs that panel's defense subcommittee; and House Financial Services Committee Chairman Barney Frank set forth that "The only people who've paid any price for our military involvement in Iraq and Afghanistan are our military families: and state "... We believe that if this war is to be fought, it's only fair that everyone share the burden."
Then read this pdf document and pay real close attention to the definition of who is "family" when it comes to who would be exempted from paying this Share the Sacrifice tax to support the War on Terror - it actually winds up excluding most of the family of the fallen, or in some cases could result in a non-family member who receives the death gratuity to be given preferential tax treatment as "family" while none of the fallen's family would be exempted.
SGT Mike Stokely was killed in action fighting the War on Terror and his death was and continues to be devastating to our family. The familial and emotional cost can only be measured by a lifetime of love lost. But in the aftermath of that lifetime of love lost, our family has also suffered direct and significant financial impact. This impact will affect our family prosperity for a lifetime to come. I estimate the costs to date and the future costs to exceed $50,000.00. Some have a perception that families like us got a large check from the American Government because Mike died in the War on Terror. However we didn't because Mike Stokely did what any good husband would do, he took care of his wife by naming her the beneficiary of his death gratuity and group life.
The Stokely family in Sharpsburg Georgia - me, my wife, and Mike's brother and sister work hard for what we achieve in life and we pay the prevailing tax rate on our earnings. We don't get any exemptions for the costs that we continue to incur because of and only because Mike as KIA in the War on Terror. And we are not looking for one either.
Rep. Obey, Murtha, Frank and other Congress members who want to pass the "Share The Sacrifice Act of 2010" claim it exempts the families of the fallen. Well the truth of the matter is it only exempts the person(s) who received the death gratuity (which is the single lump sum payment the government makes - $100,000 - to the named beneficiary of a fallen soldier and which can be, as it is in some cases, made to a non-family member). Thus, this Share the Sacrifice tax will be a new tax for most of the family of the fallen, including Mike Stokely's family.
Sadly, these Congress members also have another agenda other than to "Share the Sacrifice". This is a Health Care Reform Tax as well, as it seeks to shift costs of the War on Terror that "devours money need to fix the health care system."
To Rep. Obey, Murtha, Frank and others who think the Stokely's and others like us should pay the war tax surcharge and thus "SHARE THE SACRIFICE: given you crafted legislation that sets forth the premise we have not Shared the Sacrifice, please tell me how much you think is our fair share of the sacrifice in the War on Terror?
Robert Stokely
proud dad SGT Mike Stokely
KIA 16 AUG 05 near Yusufiyah Iraq
USA E 108 CAV 48th BCT GAARNG
Want to do something?
Contact your Senator here:
Contact your Represenative here:
My thoughts:
So, these "fine men" want you to pay a tax for the privledge of NOT having your son or daughter killed in combat. But wait there's more! If your son or daughter is married and names their spouse their insurance beneficiary...you still get to pay!
I have two words for these "fine gentlemen".... Fuck and You....they can put them together in the proper order.
Now do you want to do something?
Contact the miscreants here:
Dave Obey:
Barney Frank:
John Murtha:
September 11, 2009
Where Were You When the World Stopped Turning - Robert Stokely
[A repost from 2006]
Alan Jackson, a very well known country music star, who hails from our county, Newnan / Coweta County, Georgia, wrote a song just after 9/11 and the thematic question was "where were you when the world stopped turning..." Many of us - most probably, can well remember where we were when we heard that awful news. Oh how well that I do.
On September 11, 2001 I was at Piedmont Hospital with my wife Retta as she had some outpatient testing performed. We got there early - 7:00 a.m. At the time that the first plane hit the Twin Towers, Mike Stokely was at FT. Gordon in Augusta, Georgia as he was midway through his Advanced Infantry Training. As I sat in that hospital waiting room, Retta in the back under sedation, a lady two seats down from me was on her cell phone, perplexed look on her face and then she exclaimed "are you sure?". She then turned to us and said an airplane had crashed into one of the Twin Towers in New York. Shortly thereafter, she exclaimed "another one". I then found a TV in another waiting room and began to follow the events unfolding. An uneasy feeling crept over me as I returned down the hall to await Retta's recovery from sedation.
Later, toward noon, I took Retta home, as she was somewhat awake. I listened on the radio for news - it was not good, for by now, word had come that the Pentagon was also hit, and then, a plane was down in a field in Pennsylvania. As we continued home down I-85 from downtown Atlanta, we passed by Hartsfield International Airport. It was silent. No planes landing. No planes taking off. In all the years I have lived in and around Atlanta since 1968, I have never seen a time where you could go by the airport and no planes landing or taking off. A silence that was frightening engulfed the air as I crossed under stilled flight paths that day five years.
I got on the cell phone and tried to reach Mike. I was fortunate to get through and asked "what's going on your way?" His response was they were on alert, confined to base, and told to be ready on a moment's notice to deploy. Of course, there was much confusion nationwide and it was not for some hours before our country knew the worst that had happened and where we stood that day. But, on that day, I became alarmed - no afraid - that my son, Mike Stokely would go to war.
The invasion of Afghanistan was soon to follow with Iraq in play as well. Fast forward for our family and fall of 2004 orders came down for Mike Stokely's unit to ready to deploy. My heart sank for in the three years since 9/11, I had come to hope our family would escape a son going to war. But, it was now our turn. January 6, 2005, Mike Stokely and 120 plus of his fellow soldiers loaded on buses at the armory in Griffin, Georgia and headed to Fort Stewart for five plus months of training to deploy. As I watched my boy march to that bus, I cried, for now it was real and now, serious thoughts of a son who may not come marching back home again.
August 16, 2005, at approximately 0700 hours, news came to our home in Sharpsburg, news we did not want to hear. Mike Stokely was dead from wounds sustained in a powerful IED blast while on dismounted patrol near Yusufiyah, south of Baghdad. Eight days later, I was at Hartsfield International Airport to meet my boy coming in from Dover and watched them drape a flag over his casket. I look back now and I can only say thank God there are those willing to make the sacrifice that yields a flag draped casket. As long as we engage in battle, soldiers will die for this country. Let us find solace in the arrival of their flag draped caskets at Dover, for the day they do not arrive, is a day we find ourselves fighting our enemies upon our own soil rather than taking the fight to the enemy on their soil. Know that seeing a son come home in a flag draped casket is not what I wanted nor does any family want. But I say this, if not us, then who shall bear this burden. It was our turn to bear this special privilege of sacrifice. Mike knew that and was ready, and lead the way that we, as a family, might follow.
Now, I know the real answer to Alan Jackson's question asking where was I when the world stopped turning that September day. I was on my way to being the dad of a soldier who did his duty and willing gave his life for the country he loved.
Robert Stokely
proud dad SGT Mike Stokely
KIA by IED 16 Aug 2005 near Yusufiyah south of Baghdad
US Army E Troop 108th CAV 48th Brigade GA NATL Guard
Alan Jackson, a very well known country music star, who hails from our county, Newnan / Coweta County, Georgia, wrote a song just after 9/11 and the thematic question was "where were you when the world stopped turning..." Many of us - most probably, can well remember where we were when we heard that awful news. Oh how well that I do.
On September 11, 2001 I was at Piedmont Hospital with my wife Retta as she had some outpatient testing performed. We got there early - 7:00 a.m. At the time that the first plane hit the Twin Towers, Mike Stokely was at FT. Gordon in Augusta, Georgia as he was midway through his Advanced Infantry Training. As I sat in that hospital waiting room, Retta in the back under sedation, a lady two seats down from me was on her cell phone, perplexed look on her face and then she exclaimed "are you sure?". She then turned to us and said an airplane had crashed into one of the Twin Towers in New York. Shortly thereafter, she exclaimed "another one". I then found a TV in another waiting room and began to follow the events unfolding. An uneasy feeling crept over me as I returned down the hall to await Retta's recovery from sedation.
Later, toward noon, I took Retta home, as she was somewhat awake. I listened on the radio for news - it was not good, for by now, word had come that the Pentagon was also hit, and then, a plane was down in a field in Pennsylvania. As we continued home down I-85 from downtown Atlanta, we passed by Hartsfield International Airport. It was silent. No planes landing. No planes taking off. In all the years I have lived in and around Atlanta since 1968, I have never seen a time where you could go by the airport and no planes landing or taking off. A silence that was frightening engulfed the air as I crossed under stilled flight paths that day five years.
I got on the cell phone and tried to reach Mike. I was fortunate to get through and asked "what's going on your way?" His response was they were on alert, confined to base, and told to be ready on a moment's notice to deploy. Of course, there was much confusion nationwide and it was not for some hours before our country knew the worst that had happened and where we stood that day. But, on that day, I became alarmed - no afraid - that my son, Mike Stokely would go to war.
The invasion of Afghanistan was soon to follow with Iraq in play as well. Fast forward for our family and fall of 2004 orders came down for Mike Stokely's unit to ready to deploy. My heart sank for in the three years since 9/11, I had come to hope our family would escape a son going to war. But, it was now our turn. January 6, 2005, Mike Stokely and 120 plus of his fellow soldiers loaded on buses at the armory in Griffin, Georgia and headed to Fort Stewart for five plus months of training to deploy. As I watched my boy march to that bus, I cried, for now it was real and now, serious thoughts of a son who may not come marching back home again.
August 16, 2005, at approximately 0700 hours, news came to our home in Sharpsburg, news we did not want to hear. Mike Stokely was dead from wounds sustained in a powerful IED blast while on dismounted patrol near Yusufiyah, south of Baghdad. Eight days later, I was at Hartsfield International Airport to meet my boy coming in from Dover and watched them drape a flag over his casket. I look back now and I can only say thank God there are those willing to make the sacrifice that yields a flag draped casket. As long as we engage in battle, soldiers will die for this country. Let us find solace in the arrival of their flag draped caskets at Dover, for the day they do not arrive, is a day we find ourselves fighting our enemies upon our own soil rather than taking the fight to the enemy on their soil. Know that seeing a son come home in a flag draped casket is not what I wanted nor does any family want. But I say this, if not us, then who shall bear this burden. It was our turn to bear this special privilege of sacrifice. Mike knew that and was ready, and lead the way that we, as a family, might follow.
Now, I know the real answer to Alan Jackson's question asking where was I when the world stopped turning that September day. I was on my way to being the dad of a soldier who did his duty and willing gave his life for the country he loved.
Robert Stokely
proud dad SGT Mike Stokely
KIA by IED 16 Aug 2005 near Yusufiyah south of Baghdad
US Army E Troop 108th CAV 48th Brigade GA NATL Guard
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)