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Eduardo Garcia, Jr
Staff Sergeant
5TH WEATHER SQDN, 7TH AF United States Air Force San Antonio, Texas October 07, 1935 to March 18, 1968 EDUARDO GARCIA Jr is on the Wall at Panel 45E, Line 22 |
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I was 5 years old when my older brother, my mom and I went to the airport and see my dad leave for some destination I had no idea where or what it was. He carried me to the boarding gate and then put me down and told me that I was to be a good boy and be strong to take care of my mother. Last thing I remember was him hugging my mother and then walking away waving. A month later at dinner time a blue car came to our house with two men in uniform and a priest. My mom couldn't answer the door or she did not want to, and I was confused thinking that these were men who worked with my dad, why didn't she open the door? Finally she did and she broke down in tears and I began to cry still unaware of the bad news. Later that night she explained to me that my dad was not coming back and that he was killed in a place called Vietnam. Then on the day of the funeral I saw him lying motionless and I kept remembering what he said, and still repeat it to myself when I need strength to overcome life's obstacles.
From his son, |
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As a child of 8 years old, I remember one evening before my father went to serve in Vietnam, him sitting in a large living room chair. On the floor at the foot of the chair sat my grandma Carrie. She was crying uncontrollably. As she was talking to him, I heard her say a funny word for me at the time. The word was "AWOL". She spoke to him about this AWOL word and that he should "think of the boys". He took my grandmother's hand, looked into her eyes and said to her... "Carrie, I am thinking of the boys". Before my father left for this tour of duty in Vietnam, he hugged me and told me that while he was gone, I was to be the man of the house. I was to look after my mother and Bobby, my brother. I remember my heart sank and my trying so very hard not to cry ... trying to be the man that my father wanted me to be. We lost my father in Vietnam on March 18, 1968. As I grew up and became an adult, I live my life with his memory so very close to my heart, ever striving to be the man that he wanted me to be while I constantly search for the answer to the question ... Why?
From his son, |
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