Sgt. 1st Class Daniel Henry. Petithory Hometown

Pfc. John D. Hart was as loving as he was lovable, sure to one day become a teacher or a counselor, his family said. But Hart wanted to be in the military, a resolve strengthened after the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks, said his father, Brian Hart. Hart, 20, who enlisted in the Army after high school, was killed Oct. 18 when his patrol came under fire 160 miles north of Baghdad. "I know you had a warrior's heart. You dreamed of being a soldier and you lived your dream," the elder Hart said at a memorial service for his son in their hometown of Bedford, Mass. "I presumed you'd come back and become a teacher or a counselor. You already were a counselor to many." Brian Hart said he wished his son knew how his death had brought an entire town together in grief _ "a town united now in sorrow." He is also survived by his mother, Alma, and two sisters.

Chief Warrant Officer Kyran E. Kennedy grew up in Boston but fell in love with living in the Kentucky countryside. He and his wife bought a farm, kept a variety of animals, managed an ambitious beekeeping operation, and tended a garden and an orchard. "He absolutely loved this place. We were going to retire in Kentucky," Kathy Kennedy said. Kennedy, 43, was killed Nov. 7 when the Black Hawk helicopter he was riding crashed near Tikrit, Iraq. He was assigned to Fort Campbell and lived in Hopkinsville, Ky. Kathy Kennedy said her husband made a dulcimer that he carried to Iraq and was teaching himself to play. "He was a wonderful woodworker," she said. The instrument was important to him and provided a sense of peace in the midst of the war, she said. Survivors include his children: Christopher, 11; Katie, 9; and Kevin, 3.

US Army in Iraq, in the service of his country, November 7, 2003, formerly of West Roxbury. Beloved husband of Kathleen (Barb) Kennedy. Father of Christopher, Kaitlyn and Kevin Kennedy. Loving son of J. Kevin and Geraldine (Martin) Kennedy. Brother of John K. Jr. and his wife Margaret of Ossining, NY, Kathleen K. Collins and her husband Mark of Roslindale, Rev. William M. Kennedy, Commander, US Navy of Norfolk, VA, Deirdre I. Kennedy of Dorchester, Neil P. Kennedy of Medway, Maura K. Messinger and her husband Charles of Canton, Christopher R. and his wife Donna of Lynn, Kara K. DiSandro and her husband Robert of Cumberland, RI and Patricia E. Kennedy of W. Roxbury. Kyran is also survived by several nieces and nephews. Son-in-law of Raymond and Susan Barb of South Carolina. Brother-in-law of Patrick and Corinne Barb of Melrose and Kevin and Denise Barb of Half Moon, NY. A Memorial Mass will be celebrated in Saint Theresa Church, Centre St., West Roxbury on Saturday morning, November 22, 2003 at 10:00. Relatives and friends invited. Visiting hours at the William J. Gormley Funeral Home, 2055 Centre St., WEST ROXBURY, Friday, November 21, 2003, 2-4 & 6-9 PM. Interment Milton Cemetery.

In lieu of flowers, donations may be sent to the Kyran E. Kennedy Memorial Fund, c/o Citizens Bank, 1999 Centre St., West Roxbury, MA 02132 or Habitat for Humanity, 455 Arborway, Boston MA 02130 William J. Gormley Funeral Home 617-323-8600

Published in The Boston Globe from November 19 to November 21, 2003

HOPKINSVILLE, Ky. — A member of the 101st Airborne Division who was killed in a Black Hawk helicopter crash in Iraq was a woodworker who had made a dulcimer that he carried to Iraq with him and was teaching himself to play, his wife said.

Chief Warrant Officer 3 Kyran E. Kennedy, 43, originally from Boston’s West Roxbury neighborhood, was among six soldiers killed in the Nov. 7 crash on the bank of the Tigris River near Tikrit.

Kathy Kennedy said her husband probably had the dulcimer with him when the Black Hawk crashed. The instrument was important to him and provided a sense of peace in the midst of the war, she said.

The dulcimer is played by striking the metal strings with two small sticks called hammers.

Kennedy, assigned to the 5th Battalion, 101st Aviation Brigade, made the dulcimer at the couple’s home on a small farm at Hopkinsville.

“He was a wonderful woodworker,” Kathy Kennedy said Monday from their home.

When she last talked to her husband on the telephone Wednesday, he told her he had received a carrying case she made from black canvas and red flannel for his dulcimer. She made it for his birthday on Oct. 30.

Kyran Kennedy was on a regular rotation between Mosul and Tikrit and wanted to be able to carry the instrument back and forth with him.

Although they grew up in Boston, Kyran and Kathy Kennedy wanted to create a self-sufficient lifestyle and bought their farm after being stationed at Fort Campbell six years ago.

Along with their three children — Christopher, 11, Katie, 9, and Kevin, 3 — the couple kept a variety of animals, raised a garden and an orchard, and managed an ambitious beekeeping operation.

Nothing pleased Kyran Kennedy more than pulling weeds from the garden, his wife said.

“He absolutely loved this place. We were going to retire in Kentucky,” she said.

A funeral mass for Kennedy will be scheduled later at SS. Peter and Paul Catholic Church in Hopkinsville. Kennedy, one of 10 children, will be buried at Milton, Mass., a Boston suburb.

Military pallbearers carry the casket of Sg. Maj. Philip Albert from St. Ann's Roman Catholic Church in Bristol, Conn., Tuesday, Dec. 9, 2003, after his funeral. Albert, 41, was killed in a helicopter crash in Afghanistan on Nov. 22, 2003. (AP Photo/Bob child)

Sgt. Glenn Richard Allison had only a few months to spend with his family between returning from a tour of duty in Korea in September and leaving for Iraq, but he did fit in a special duty for his sister. "Our mother raised us alone, so he gave me away at my wedding," Jon's Allison-Cardoso said. "We'll always have that." Allison, 24, of Pittsfield, Mass., and stationed at Fort Drum, died in Baghdad on Dec. 18 during a physical training exercise, less than a week after arriving in Iraq. His sister said the family was told he died of heart failure. Allison played high school football, then quickly joined the Army at age 17. "He had a daughter and he wanted to make sure he had a way to support her," his sister said. She said he showed off his desert fatigues before he left. "He was proud of having people to look after, proud of being in charge of other people," Allison-Cardoso said.

A native of Nicaragua, Gabriel Palacios joined the Army in 2002. The combat engineer moved with front line troops, clearing mines, building temporary bridges and evaluating whether buildings and other structures were safe for troops to enter. Spc. Palacios, 22, died Jan. 21 when a mortar round exploded near Baqoubah, Iraq. He was stationed at Fort Hood, Texas, and listed Lynn, Mass., as his home.

Mourners for U.S. Army Spc. Gabriel T Palacios, 22, cry during his funeral at his home in Mateares, Nicaragua, 30 miles west of Managua Saturday, Jan. 31, 2004. Palacios who also lived in Lynn, Mass. was killed Jan. 21, 2004 in a mortar attack on a base near Baqoubah, Iraq. (AP Photo/Mario Lopez)

Stephen M. Wells took his three sons on walks, built rockets with them and helped them stargaze with a telescope. His first priority was his family, his mother said. "I can't explain in words what kind of young man he was," Elizabeth Wells said of her son. "He's always been joyful and laughing and used to find the better part of things." The 29-year-old helicopter pilot from Egremont, Mass., died Feb. 25 when his helicopter crashed into the Euphrates River in Habbaniyah, Iraq. He was stationed at Fort Carson, Colo. Chief Warrant Officer Wells joined the Army shortly after high school. He served in Bosnia, Thailand, and South Korea. "I couldn't have been prouder of anybody," John Wells said of his son. "What keeps me going is that he was doing what he wanted. It was his job, and he went. He was well on his way to a happy life." Survivors include his wife, Tosha, and his sons, ages 9, 6 and 5.

GREAT BARRINGTON, Mass. — A helicopter pilot killed in a crash in Iraq was hailed as a hero at his funeral March 6.

U.S. Army Chief Warrant Officer Stephen M. Wells, 29, of Egremont, Mass., was killed Feb. 25 when his helicopter crashed into the Euphrates River in Habbaniyah, Iraq.

Rev. Stewart A. Marshall, pastor of the Prince of Peace Lutheran Church in Ozark, Ala., called Wells “a hero in our eyes, a hero as a father, a hero as a husband, a son, a soldier, a pilot,” the Berkshire Eagle reported.

Wells and his wife, Tosha, were member of Marshall’s parish when he attended flight school at Fort Rucker in Alabama.

During the service at the First Congregational Church, Marshall urged Tosha Wells to be strong and courageous for the sake of the couple’s three sons, ages 9, 6 and 5.

“You will have to be the mother and father for your boys, but God will give you the strength to do so,” he said.

The service was also attended by Gov. Mitt Romney.

Stephen M. Wells took his three sons on walks, built rockets with them and helped them star gaze with a telescope. His first priority was his family, his mother said.

“I can’t explain in words what kind of young man he was,” Elizabeth Wells said of her son. “He’s always been joyful and laughing and used to find the better part of things.”

The 29-year-old helicopter pilot from Egremont, Mass., died Feb. 25 when his helicopter crashed into the Euphrates River in Habbaniyah, Iraq. He was stationed at Fort Carson, Colo.

Chief Warrant Officer Wells joined the Army shortly after high school. He served in Bosnia, Thailand and South Korea.

“I couldn’t have been prouder of anybody,” John Wells said of his son. “What keeps me going is that he was doing what he wanted. It was his job, and he went. He was well on his way to a happy life.”

Survivors include his wife, Tosha, and his sons, ages 9, 6 and 5.

— Associated Press

Sgt. Daniel J. Londono wanted to protect his country, but he also had another reason for joining the Army: He wanted to help his mother and sister financially. "When he came back home once he told me that he went to the Army for me so that my mom could pay for college for me," said his 18-year-old sister, Diana. Londono, 22, of Boston, died March 13 when an explosive hit his vehicle in Baghdad. He was assigned to Fort Bragg, N.C. Londono joined the Army after graduating from high school, where he had run track. He died less than three weeks before his birthday and two months before he was going to complete his military service, relatives said.

BOSTON — A Boston man who joined the Army to help pay for college for his sister and himself was among three soldiers killed in an explosion in Iraq last week.

Sgt. Daniel J. Londono, 22, was killed March 13, less than three weeks before his April 1 birthday and two months before he was going to complete his military service, relatives said.

Londono was in a military vehicle in Baghdad with Staff Sgt. Clint D. Ferrin, 31, of Picayune, Miss., and Pfc. Joel K. Brattain, 21, of Santa Anna, Calif, when an improvised explosive device struck it, the Department of Defense said March 16.

All three soldiers were assigned to the 1st Battalion, 504th Infantry Regiment, 82nd Airborne Division in Fort Bragg, N.C. Ferrin grew up in Ogden, Utah and moved to Mississippi for his senior year of high school before joining the Army.

Londono joined the Army after graduating from Archbishop Williams High School in Braintree in 2000. His aunt Mirka Kozikowski said Tuesday that Londono had always expressed an interest in the Army as a child, but he joined primarily to help his mother and sister financially.

“He wanted to protect the country but also to make a better life for himself,” Kozikowski said. “The only way he could go to college was to go to the Army.”

Londono’s 18-year-old sister, Diana, of the Dorchester section of Boston, said her brother was protective but she recalled with some sadness how committed he was to helping her.

“When he came back home once he told me that he went to the Army for me so that my mom could pay for college for me,” she said.

She also said her brother ran track in school and listened to all types of music.

The family last saw Londono during the Christmas holiday and his mother had spoken to him a week ago, Kozikowski said.

From Michael Huffman 04/28/05: Here is a couple pics of Ferrin, Londono, and Brattain’s memorial. We held it at what was them Camp Falcon, along highway 8 in the Southwestern Baghdad. Before we left the country, the FOB (Forward Operating Base) was renamed Camp Ferrin Huggins. Huggins was another 82nd soldier from the 325 AIR, who was killed a couple of months before Ferrin, Londono, and Brattain. Since they were the two senior NCOs killed in that sector, their names were given for the camp and a memorial marker was placed behind the BDE HQs building. Ferrin, Londono, Brattain, and Knell were riding along a canal access road at around 2am conducting a security patrol when an IED exploded under the road on which they were traveling. Ferrin, Londono, and Brattain were killed instantly and Knell was severely wounded. It happened at grid 487726 between the Nazi Usfur and Jabbur Districts in the rural area just south of Baghdad, three kilometers west of the Tigris River. We had problems in that area for weeks leading up to the event. The enemy had fired rockets and mortars from that vicinity at Camp Falcon and into the Green Zone. SSG Ferrin was patrolling in order to interdict the hostiles who’d been rocketing and mortaring our bases. The blast was catastrophic and the IED was believed to be over 100 pounds of high explosives. How Knell lived through the blast is beyond our understanding, but he has long term damage from the concussion of the blast. A lot of people don’t realize how damaging the concussions from IEDs are. The blasts will not only blow your eardrums, but for many soldiers the brain is damaged beyond recovery. You think you were lucky because you see your boys and there are no physical marks or visible damage, but reality sets in when you realize the damage was invisible.  This ceremony was also held at Camp Falcon, now Ferrin Huggins. It is a picture of me paying my last respects. The second picture is of the shadow boxes with their pictures, weapons, boots, and awards that we use in the memorial ceremony. During the ceremony soldiers put little mementos of their friendship on the shadow box, and everything is sent home with the bodies to their families.

From Jaeyeon Choi 07/29/05: My deepest and heart felt condolences to the families of SSG. Ferrin, SGT. Lee, and SGT. Londono. I have proudly and respectfully served with all three in Company D. 1st Battalion 504th Parachute Infantry Regiment in Kosovo and Afghanistan... I remember spending many memmorable moments with them. SSG. Ferrin had taught me many things about myself and my job while I was in D. Company. Both SGT. Londono and SGT. Lee were hard chargers and were unselfish human beings. There isn't a day that goes by without me thinking about these men and what they have done for me and the American people. I do miss them dearly. Once again, I would like to say thank you to the families of SSG. Ferrin, SGT. Londono and SGT. Lee for their ultimate sacrifice. I will never ever forget what they have done.

All Contents © Copyright 2004, Boston Neighborhood News, Inc.

A Soldier's Story East Cottage Street's Danny Londono Longed for Home, Even As He Fulfilled a Lifelong Dream of Soldiering

June 3, 2004

Daniel J. Londono's grave in Cedar Grove Cemetery. By Jim O'Sullivan News Editor It was on the day he graduated high school, his mother remembers, that Danny Londono came to her with the papers. He'd lost that skinny, bespectacled look he'd worn back in junior high, that awkward fuzz of adolescence encouraged by bad heavy metal. A youthful transgression. His sister says he was never a skate punk, though. No, Danny had too many places to go and too much hoo-ah in his future ever to wander far from the straight and narrow. Hijinks to him meant saddling up on his mountain bike and pedaling down to Stoughton with some friends, often arriving after dark. He was, for the most part, quiet. He'd mug for the camera and clown with his family. But in school he exuded the shyness of one who seems done with the place, whose purpose lies elsewhere, ahead, with no stomach for the shenanigans of high school. "Danny hated gossip," his mother says. "You know, I got a big family and sometimes I would sit with my brother and sister and start to say something and he would stop me and say, 'Ma, please'." He wasn't dean's list ramrod - that was too temporal for Danny Londono - and he never smiled with his teeth in any pictures, his mother points out, except for the ones she snapped when he'd just woken up. Accent still thick from the native Poland she left a quarter-century ago, she says, "He loved to sleep and I loved to make pictures when he was sleeping." Awful smart, though. Awful smart. Reading National Geographic, digging into family history, transfixed by the History or Discovery Channel when he was home, and trilingual. English, Polish, and the Spanish he learned with his father, Bernardo, a native and current resident of Colombia. "His teachers say to me," his mother remembers, " 'Danny is so smart, but he does not study'." She and Diana, Danny's 18-year-old sister, start giggling. "He never opened a book," Diana says. His mother says, "I don't know how he was passing." But pass he did, and on the day he graduated from high school, Danny brought his enlistment papers to the three-decker on East Cottage Street that his grandmother had bought before his mother moved from Poland. He'd been nagging his mother for months to sign for him. "I was thinking he was going to forget it, you know," she says now, sitting on the couch in her living room. She wears a purple sweater and black pants, with her hair pulled back. From her neck dangles a single dogtag. He brought her something else, after he'd signed up, a bumper sticker. It read, "I am the proud mother of a young soldier."   Three-Decker Roots Iwona Londono came to East Cottage Street in 1979 as Iwona Maciejewska, an 18-year-old high school graduate whose mother had just bought a three-decker. She spoke no English. "I went straight to work because my mother was by herself," she says, sitting in the living room of the home she's known since arriving. "She had just bought the house and she couldn't afford for me to go to school or anything." So she took a job in electronics and one day after work was sitting on the front steps, looking across the street, out onto Edward Everett Square, into the backyard of the Blake House, the city's oldest timber-framed structure. Up walked Bernardo Londono, a Colombian immigrant who had arrived a year before her, and worked for a meat-packing company. He was stopping by to visit his cousin. Their son, Daniel, was born in 1981. Iwona doesn't have much to say about her ex-husband, but Daniel kept in touch with him and so has Diana. He calls from Colombia, where he went back to live, and he visited in March. Daniel was "a very happy baby," but always quiet, "all his life," his mother says. She bought him army boots when he was four or five, which he'd match up with camouflage T-shirts and mock battle fatigues. The lifestyle appealed to him from the jump, and nothing shook him from the path to soldierhood. He went to St. Margaret School, and then Don Bosco Preparatory School until it closed in 1998. From there, he went as a junior to Archbishop Williams High School in Braintree. He ran track, and waited to go into the Army. "He says to me all the time, 'Ma, can you come with me to sign the papers?'," Iwona remembers. She never relented, and then he had his diploma and enlisted himself. "And that's how my Danny joined the Army."   A First-Class Soldier On August 23, 2000, two months after graduation, Londono was in basic training in Fort Bragg heat, enjoying the offerings of North Carolina in summer. After two-and-a-half months of that, he headed to advanced individual training, doled out to aspiring infantrymen. In March 2001, he was assigned to his unit, the 1st Battalion, 504th Infantry Regiment, in the 82nd Airborne Division. (Today, the unit is stationed again at Fort Bragg, after completing its Iraq tour.) Pictures of Londono from that time show a broad-shouldered soldier with the close-cropped hair and the cemented jaw that's molded in basic training. His torso isn't adorned yet with the medals he would earn in Asia and Europe, but he has about him an air of certainty. This is what he was supposed to do. And, if superior officers and military records are to be believed, he did it well. Londono advanced with a notable quickness through the ranks. Commanders praised his aptitude. One of them told her, Iwona remembers, that "he knew that is the best soldier that they have." He was promoted through the enlisted ranks, earning his sergeant stripes. The 82nd Airborne sent Londono and his unit to Kosovo in September 2001, a peacekeeping mission in southeastern Europe when being an American anywhere didn't feel safe. Londono served there until April 2002, then cycled back to Fort Bragg. In December of that year, Londono and his mates shipped out to Afghanistan, sweeping up the Taliban's mess and keeping an eye out for Osama bin Laden. In between deployments, he would come home to East Cottage Street. "He loved this house and he didn't want to leave," his mother says. She talked to him about maybe moving someday, but he would respond, "If you move, you move, and I will stay here." On these visits, too, he became closer with Diana, the kid sister who had been only 14 when he shipped out to Fort Bragg. It was, she says, as if he'd matured. "Well," she amends, "he was always pretty mature, but he understood me more." Their relatives, pleased and proud that a member of the clan was in the service, presented him with gifts and checks, which he would promptly turn over to Diana. From Afghanistan, he sent her a burka, which she reckons makes her the only girl in Fontbonne's junior class with one of those. "I guess he valued things more because of what he went through," his sister says.   A Bostonian Abroad There was another woman in his life, apart from his sister and mother and flock of aunts and cousins. There was Heather Butler, a bright Southern belle who laughs at the nine-year age difference between the two of them. Butler lives in Fuquay-Varina, North Carolina, an hour and 15 minutes from Fort Bragg by car, a trip Daniel made often in his black 1995 Ford Taurus. In August 2003 - and she knows the date if you ask her - Butler was in Ri-Ra, an Irish bar in downtown Raleigh, bored while one of her friends chatted up two guys, neither of which interested her. Over by the stage, though, "was the most gorgeous thing I had ever laid my eyes on." "He just sort of looked out of place," Butler says. "He wasn't checking out the women, he wasn't paying attention to the band, he was just sitting there drinking a beer with his buddies." This was par for Daniel's course. His mother and sister are aflutter over Butler, but said he always fared well with the gentler sex. "He was very quiet, he never approached any girls, but the girls was like glue to him," his mother beams. And so Butler, vying for his attention while disdaining his companions, got through to him. Later, dancing, she told him, "You're going to have to talk more if you want to go out with me." So he did. He called her the next day and started seeing her on weekends. He'd drive down to Fuquay-Varina, a small town - "growing by leaps and bounds," Butler says - near Raleigh, and would not leave until the past possible second Sunday night. He told her about his hometown, adopting an air of parochial superiority befitting a lifelong Bostonian. "He constantly compared everything to Boston, and to Daniel nothing could ever compare," she says. "If we ate at a restaurant, Boston had a better one. If we went to a movie theater, Boston had a better one." But the home he missed the most was his family's, where Iwona brags gently about her Polish cooking and Diana grows up and thinks about college. When it came to her education, Danny dreamed of bankrolling it with his salary from the Army. "You have to understand that everything Daniel did was for her," his girlfriend says of his sister. "He adored her." Butler spoke with him on March 13. Their phone calls were always tender, and this one was anticipatory. Daniel never talked in specific timeframes, but he told her he would be home in a few weeks, and not to bother to send a care package she had ready, because he'd be home before it arrived. They talked about Mexico, where they planned to take a trip when he got back. "We always laughed on the phone, and we always said, 'I love you'," Butler says. A few hours later, Sergeant Daniel Londono was patrolling the outskirts of Baghdad in a Humvee with three other soldiers when insurgents struck the vehicle with an improvised explosive device. A long way from Mexico, a long way from Fuquay-Varina, and a long way from East Cottage Street.   Two Soldiers Make a Dreaded Visit From Kosovo and Afghanistan, the letters had come more regularly than they did once Danny got to Iraq. Maybe it was the fact that, after three-and-a-half years in the Army, this business of dropping in on global hotspots was old hat. Maybe phone calls and the somewhat spotty e-mail service sufficed. Or maybe there just wasn't as much good news to report. When he called, the phone would sometimes ring at four in the morning - noon in Baghdad. "I still wake up at four o'clock in the morning, you know, waiting for his telephone calls," his mother says. With time waning on his tour over there, Danny was still the gung-ho soldier, but not as enamored of this conflict as he had been of past missions. "He didn't regret it, but he didn't like to be there," his sister says. "He was saying, 'It's stupid to be there'." He had plans to stay in the Army, but wanted to be on the other side of Asia, and was talking about studying Korean. In phone calls with his mother, he would talk about the parties they would throw for the family when he returned. The phone call she got on March 14, though, was from her sister, Mirka, who lives downstairs. Iwona was at work at Clifford's Flowers in Quincy, and her sister was in tears. Danny had told her, Iwona remembers, "If they call you, they're going to give you good news, but if they come to you, it's bad news." Her sister was calling to tell her that two soldiers had come to visit the house. Iwona fainted. Butler was home by herself in Fuquay-Varina, when someone knocked on her door around 7:30 p.m. "I looked out the peephole and I just knew," she said of finding two police officers on her front porch. She called her brother Craig, who had served in the Marine Corps and come to know Daniel well during his sister's relationship with him. Butler is coming to Boston in a few weeks to visit Iwona and Diana, "to create some better memories of Boston," she says. In a telephone interview, she sums up her feelings for Daniel by reaching for a quote from the movie Steel Magnolias. "I would rather have five minutes of wonderful than a lifetime of nothing special," she says, "and Daniel was my five minutes of wonderful." Still-Life Memories Leafing through a crate of family photographs, Iwona and Diana Londono smile. There's Danny clowning in the kitchen, Danny with his cousins, Danny and Diana, Danny and his mother, the three of them on the beach in Wollaston. Above the television is the same picture that graces the billboard on Gallivan Boulevard. Tucked on a shelf next to the couch is a smaller picture, of him further along in his military career. Gone is the empty expanse of green fabric between his shoulders, filled now with the adornments of honor accrued by a paratrooper who has seen action overseas. He is neither smiling nor frowning, but looks content. He's doing what he's always supposed to do. Which didn't mean he talked about it. Obeying the code of not talking up his actions in the field, the soldier was content to let his family know that he was happy, and thinking of them. "He didn't like to talk about it," Diana says. Instead, "He wanted to know everything that was going on around the house." And others wanted to know what was going on with him. Iwona's co-workers, at Clifford's, where her bosses give her time off when she needs it now, and where she used to work at Stop & Shop, they asked after Danny, and now they ask after her. "Many times I was crying and I say to him, 'You hurt me so much,' and he say, 'Ma, I do it for you. I do it to protect you'." She went to him one last time, earlier this year. He wasn't her little boy anymore; he already had his Army boots. Hewing to the ethic of stoicism in the face of duty, he hadn't blabbed or bragged to his family that he was heading back to the Middle East, to Iraq this time. She caught him before he left in January, told him she loved him. And now, like more than 800 other families, his misses him. Iwona says she gets back to Poland every five years ago and had plans for another trip. "I was thinking to go this year with both of my kids, but it turned out that we had to change our plans," she says. Instead, in March, she had to plan a funeral. Daniel was a St. Margaret's kid, she says, but when he was born her English was still scant, so she brought him to Our Lady of Czestchonowa. His First Communion was in St. Margaret's, but when it came time to bury him, his mother opted for the South Boston church where Masses are still said in her native Polish. "He was baptized at Czestchonowa, so I thought I would let him have Last Rites there." On a crisp day in March, in a church thronged with mourners, the pastor, the Rev. Miroslaw Podymniak, called it "the most difficult funeral service" over which he'd ever presided. As for Daniel, he said, "God knows him by name." 'Alive in My Heart' "Old soldiers never die." That's Gen. Douglas A. MacArthur speaking, all self-styled Caesar and sunglasses and corncob pipe and enough hardware on his chest to best a Panzer shell. Along with ticker tape parades, though, Mac knew a few things about soldiers. One of them, a flinty-eyed chief warrant officer from Maine, was out checking for land mines in the field one night, a dangerous mission for which he'd volunteered, when up comes MacArthur, Pacific theater commander. The young man knew the Hemisphere's highest-ranking military officer didn't need to be out there among the trip lines and bouncing betties. "You're doing a hell of a job," said MacArthur. He came out of that war, the chief warrant officer did, and the next one, with a bayonet scar on his arm and a Death March-weakened heart that quit on him at 54, but before he went he told his wife about the night he went out to face death and met the general. And his wife told their son, who told his own son and father's namesake, and, proving the general right, that grandson sits in Sergeant Daniel Londono's living room with the sergeant's mother and sister and thinks of his grandfather fighting to keep free the country Daniel Londono gave his life for. Mac left out the young ones, though, and that's what Iwona London's son was, "my Danny," a quiet kid from East Cottage Street who all he ever wanted was to join the Army. What about the young ones, General? She visits the answer every night on her way home from work. "I have him so close to my heart that I don't want to think that he's not here, that's he's dead," says the young soldier's mother. "He'll be alive for the rest of my life, in my heart. I don't know."

Daniel was born April 1, 1981, and attended St. Margaret School in Dorchester and Don

Bosco High School until it closed. He transferred to Archbishop Williams High School

and graduated in 2000. While at AWHS he was a member of the track team. His classmates

referred to him as “quiet and reflective” in his senior yearbook.
In August 2000, two months after graduation, Daniel was in basic training at Fort Bragg. After a few months, he headed to advanced individual training. In March 2001, he was assigned to his unit, the 1st Battalion, 504th Infantry Regiment, in the 82nd Airborne Division. He advanced with notable quickness through the ranks. Commanders praised his aptitude. He was promoted through the enlisted ranks, earning his sergeant stripes.
Daniel served in Kosovo, Afghanistan and Iraq. He died two months before he was going to complete his military service in Iraq on March13, 2004, at the age of 22, when an improvised explosive device struck

his military vehicle in Baghdad. After his death, Daniel’s family was presented with the Bronze Star and a Purple Heart.

help his mother and sister financially. He dreamed of attending college and becoming a Boston police officer after his service ended. Today the corner of East Cottage and Dawes streets in Dorchester is named in his honor.

_

Daniel and I graduated together from Archbishop Williams High in 2000. We joined the military at the same time and served in Operation together. I will always remember Dan, and his

All Contents © Copyright 2004 Boston Neighborhood News, Inc. WWW.dotnews.com

When other youngsters were wearing T-shirts and jeans, David M. Vicente was wearing fatigues and combat boots. "We all wore combat stuff when we were little kids but he kept it up through high school," said his best friend, Jason Lenotte in Vicente's hometown of Methuen, Mass. "He was so excited when he got in the Marines and he talked about staying in the service as his career." Cpl. Vicente, 25, died March 19 when the Humvee in which he was riding hit a landmine just outside Hit, Iraq. He had been in Iraq for two weeks, and was based at Twentynine Palms, Calif. His brother Daniel Vicente said the family had worried about Vicente, "but I knew in my heart this is exactly what he wanted to being doing." His uncle Michael Marques said as a teenager, when his nephew was not dreaming of a career in the military, Vicente was working on his truck. "He loved everything mechanical," Marques said. "He took his truck apart piece by piece, which I thought was going to be the end of it. But it was that truck he drove across the country to report for duty." He also is survived by his parents.

Jeffrey C. Burgess was a big-hearted and easygoing brother who had loved playing with toy guns when he was a child, and loved the military as an adult, said his sister Jennifer Shea. A Marine from Plymouth, Mass., the 20-year-old Burgess, 20, died two weeks after he arrived in Iraq. He was killed by enemy fire near Fallujah on March 25. Ken Tavares, chairman of the town select board in Plymouth, said the Burgess family "has long lines going way back" in the area. Burgess was stationed in Miramar, Calif. Survivors include his mother, Michelle Shea, and his father, Scott Burgess.

Posted on Wednesday, July 14, 2004 10:14:58 PM by RaceBannon

By Elaine Allegrini, Enterprise staff writer

PLYMOUTH — Carol Machado tried Saturday to explain to her children the meaning of the lowered flag flying outside Memorial Hall honoring a young Marine killed in the Iraq War on Thursday.

"It frightens them to know it's so close to home," Machado said as she hugged her two children. "It makes me sad."

The photograph of Lance Cpl. Jeffrey C. Burgess, 20, has brought home the reality of war even for those, like Machado, who never knew the Marine whose baby face looks younger than his age.

"He looks just like the Burgesses," said selectmen Chairman Kenneth Tavares as he stood in the shadow of the lowered flag outside Memorial Hall Saturday. "This is one of our boys, one of our kids," he said, offering the town's support to the family as they prepare for a military funeral.

Burgess is the son of Michelle (Ford) Shea, now of Sagamore Beach, and Scott Burgess of Plymouth.

Tavares said he grew up in town with the Burgess family, worked with Shea many years ago and with her mother, retired Plymouth assessor Mary (Delano) Ford, formerly of Rockland.

The sadness being felt throughout the community is shared across the country in California where Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger also ordered the flags lowered to honor Burgess, who was in the lead vehicle of a convoy when it ran over a mine and exploded near Baqubah, Iraq. Burgess, who was assigned to Marine support squadron stationed in Miramar, Calif., died from shrapnel wounds.

He grew up on Briggs Avenue in the Manomet section of Plymouth with his older siblings, Jennifer and Jason. His grandparents, Mary and Charles Ford lived nearby. They have since relocated to Florida.

Saturday, Mary Ford recalled her last message from her grandson.

"I got an email from him this past week to remind me of his birthday," she said, "one of those 'Oh, by the way Gram, I'll be 21 this birthday." His birthday is in April.

"We are going to miss him more than words can say," the grieving grandmother said as she prepared to return to Plymouth for the funeral. The family expects Burgess's body to be returned to Plymouth later this week from Dover Air Force Base in Delaware.

Burgess attended Manomet Elementary School, Plymouth Community Intermediate School and graduated in 2001 from Plymouth South High School where he was a percussionist in the band for four years.

That is where he blended in as a quiet student with leadership qualities, principal Robert O'Shea said. And, that is where he stood out as a comic, always making sure his closeknit group of friends from the percussion line were having a good time and laughing, said Lauren Pullia, a former girlfriend.

They are facing a difficult time, burying one of their peers, said retired Plymouth veterans agent Antonio Gomes.

"When I was in the service three of my (Wareham) high school classmates were casualties," he said. "It did a tremendous jolt to me because most of them were in sports with me, classmates and teammates."

Gomes, who retired last year after 30 years as veterans agent, said this is Plymouth's first war death since Vietnam in the late 1960s. It is the second Iraq casualty in the region in a year. Last April, First Lt. Brian McPhillips, 25, a Pembroke Marine serving with the 2nd Marine Division 2nd Tank Battalion was killed when his unit was ambushed. A former Plymouth man, Sgt. 1st Class Robert F. Rooney, 43, died in a non-combat related accident in Kuwait last year while serving with the 379th Engineering Co. based in Bourne.

Plymouth had five casualties in Vietnam, according to Gomes.

He said the death of a young man in a war that was said to be over is troubling.

"Sometimes I wonder why we're still there," he said. "The war was supposed to be over but it's dragging on. It seems like the casualties are almost duplicating the casualties from the original war."

The question of the war was on the minds of many as they mourned the death of a young man, who family and friends say was proud to be a Marine.

"The war, it should have never happened," said Machado, thankful that her children are too young to realize what is going on, but now must learn because the town is in mourning for a young man who was doing his job, serving his country.

Erich Scharath, commander of the Disabled American Veterans and service officer for the Veterans of Foreign Wars, both of Plymouth, said he just mailed 22 packages to Plymouth men and women serving in Iraq, including Burgess.

Scharath said he knows the anxieties of families who have a loved one in the war area. His son, Plymouth police officer Jonathan Scharath, is on his way home from Iraq after serving 11 months on the front lines.

"Let's hope we get the hell out of there," said Scharath, who stands ready to assist the Burgess family in the coming days, weeks and beyond.

The American Legion, too, has offered its support for the upcoming services.

"It's not easy for anybody," said Sergeant-at-arms Paul Thurston, "especially when its in your hometown."

There is a young man in Plymouth, Mass., Alan Burgess, whose cousin, Marine LCpl Jeffery Burgess, died in Iraq in March. Alan admired his cousin, and called him a hero. Alan wrote to his cousin when he could, and one thing he remembered his cousin saying was that once the Marines were done for the day patrolling, they would go back to their base and were bored and wanted some way to relax--something like throwing a baseball back and forth, or a football. Alan sent in a couple of gifts to the troops, including his cousin's friend. Alan admired these Marines, and wanted them to feel that the people back home supported them, and he did all he could to let them know he did not forget their efforts.

Alan's cousin, Jeffrey, died as a result of combat wounds he suffered in Fallujah. LCpl. Jeffrey Burgess died a hero in the eyes of his family, and in those of this 11-year-old cousin, Alan.

Allan chose to honor the memory of his cousin by donating sporting goods and toys to the troops in Iraq, and collected 12 boxes full!

Alan did a great thing, and wanted to do something even larger. Now, in order to expand on the efforts of this young man, a friend of mine who was on his cousin's burial detail spoke with the young man, Alan Burgess, and agreed to work with him to arrange a larger sporting goods drive for the troops and the Iraqi kids that visited the Marine camp daily to talk with and occasionally play with the Marines.

Thanks to contact with some Marines on active duty, a VERY SENIOR 1st Marine Division officer, who once served with some of the people involved in making this Sporting Goods drive happen, has been in touch with people who are now working on providing an aircraft to fly over what can be collected for the troops and the Iraqi kids!

And that is no exaggeration!

This young man's story is what I think we should all tell. He has shown more patriotism than most adults do in their lifetime, and he is only 11 years old. Because of his dream to honor his cousin's death, Nationally now, some old Marines got off their chair to help him succeed, and even got a VERY SENIOR Marine to chip in and fly the sporting goods and toys to the troops and Iraqi kids!

Alan's dream is for the troops to have things to amuse themselves with on off-duty hours. This SENIOR MARINE wants us to send stuff for the Iraqi kids too, so we hope to do both! But in keeping with Alan's original goal, we need to concentrate on the sporting goods for the troops first.

On June 23, 2004, the Marine Corps League of Orleans, Massachusetts, honored this young man with a ceremony, awarding him a Certificate of Appreciation while the Marine Corps Silent Drill team performed at Orleans in Massachusetts on Cape Cod.

Enclosed are some pictures of the event, with some pictures of the young man.

http://mywebpage.netscape.com/JamesBancroft/all+175.jpg

http://mywebpage.netscape.com/JamesBancroft/all+162.jpg

http://mywebpage.netscape.com/JamesBancroft/boat+004.jpg

What we have decided to do is hold a Sporting Goods Collection Drive, to be collected at a Marine Corps/Navy Reserve Center near you.

This is ALREADY A DEFINITE THING HERE IN CONNECTICUT; the collection day is July 17, at the Navy Marine Corps Reserve Centers in Plainville, Connecticut, and the New Haven Navy and Marine Corps Reserve Center.

NEW HAVEN, CT CBMU 202 DET B NAVAL AND MARINE CORPS RESERVE CENTER, 30 WOODWARD AVE, NEW HAVEN, CT 06512-3658, (203) 467-1618

PLAINVILLE, CT NMCB 27 DET 1327 NAVAL AND MARINE CORPS RESERVE CENTER, 1 LINSLEY DRIVE, PLAINVILLE, CT 06062-2918, (860) 747-4563

And, in Rhode Island, a Collection center has been established. Here is the information concerning the Rhode Island Collection:

Feel free to list our Reserve Center as a drop/collection location for sporting goods. I am the Marine who led the funeral honors for LCpl Jeffrey Charles Burgess. I walked with this family during their darkest hour and feel that if I/we can help in any way then we need to. I met Allan and his little brother Dana at the Wake and I can say, if America possessed children like this in mass, I would know our country would be in great hands in the future.

Again, Thank you to all of you who are helping Allan and certainly a hardy THANK YOU to Allan, as stated earlier, Allan has made a greater difference and impact by pursuing this initiative than most do in an entire lifetime.

God Bless and Semper Fidelis. 1stSgt Todd M. Parisi/USMC

PROVIDENCE, RI , GSMTCO, NAVY/MARINE CORPS RESERVE CENTER, 1 NARRAGANSETT STREET, PROVIDENCE, RHODE ISLAND. 02905, (401) 461-2473

The types of sporting goods we are specifically requesting are:

baseballs, gloves, footballs, basketballs

and by special request of the Marine Corps, SOCCER BALLS for the Iraqi kids!

And any soccer- related equipment. It does not have to be new equipment, all it has to be is usable equipment that you would not be ashamed to donate for someone to use.

TAX DEDUCTIBLE Cash donations can be sent to: Jeffrey Burgess Recreational Fund Plymouth Savings Bank 36 MAIN STREET BOX 3506 Plymouth, Massachusetts, 02361 Phone: 508-746-3300

Governor Schwarzenegger Issues Statement on Death of Air Station Miramar Marine

Governor Schwarzenegger today issued the following statement regarding the death of LCpl. Jeffrey C. Burgess of Plymouth, MA, who was stationed at Marine Corps Air Station Miramar, CA.:

"Risking his life to protect fellow citizens was a duty LCpl. Burgess undertook with pride and honor. The sacrifices Jeffrey made for his country and our freedoms are an inspiration to all Americans. Our hearts go out to his loved ones."

LCpl. Burgess, 20, died March 25, due to enemy action near Al Fallujah, Iraq. He was assigned to Marine Wing Support Squadron 373, Marine Wing Support Group 37, 3rd Marine Aircraft Wing, I Marine Expeditionary Force, Marine Corps Air Station Miramar, CA.

In honor of LCpl. Burgess, Capitol flags will be flown at half-staff.

http://www.joinarnold.com/en/press/pressdetail.php?id=366

March 25

Lance Cpl Jeffrey C. Burgess, USMC The Department of Defense announced on March 26 the death of a Marine who was supporting Operation Iraqi Freedom.

LCpl. Jeffrey C. Burgess, 20, of Plymouth, Mass., died March 25, due to enemy action near Al Fallujah, Iraq. He was assigned to Marine Wing Support Squadron 373, Marine Wing Support Group 37, 3rd Marine Aircraft Wing, I Marine Expeditionary Force, Marine Corps Air Station Miramar, Calif.