I never had a chance to meet him, because his father married my mother years after he died, but they called him a "baby killer". He was reviled, ridiculed and slandered by many of his countrymen. But he never heard the calumnies and the insults, because by the time the letters containing them were delivered to his parents' home, he already had been buried following a military funeral.
In the pre-dawn hours of July 7, 1968, at a remote outpost near the Cambodian border, the 24-year-old officer was in charge of an artillery battery whose job it was to cut off an escape route into Cambodia that was being used by North Vietnamese forces. An NVA unit of vastly superior numbers launched a surprise attack on the position being occupied by elements of the 12th Marines. Rousing from sleep, the young officer rallied his men and engaged in close combat with the enemy. After dispatching up to 24 enemy soldiers while reversing the direction of his artillery unit, the officer was cut down by fire from a Russian-made AK-47. However, his quick and decisive action in re-positioning his artillery resulted in successfully repelling the enemy attack, with only 15 American casualties (including himself) and saving the lives of many of his comrades.
He was posthumously awarded the Silver Star for his gallantry.
His father, who served with the Marines in the Pacific during World War II, grieved the only way he knew how. His father was a writer, so he wrote a moving and thought-provoking article about his son for Reader's Digest. After the piece was published, a flood of hate mail flowed into his father's mailbox. Three years later, still grieving the death of his only child, the father used the hate mail as the backdrop for a new novel, Next of Kin. Although no longer in print, the book can be found in many bookstores and online, and it tells the poignant story of the nation's confusion and division concerning Vietnam that was prevalent at the time.
Today is Memorial Day. I urge all who view this to join me in remembering those who sacrificed their lives in the service of their country, especially the more than 58,000 who did so during a very unpopular war and who, rather than being honored, were reviled by their countrymen.
As has been said by many who have experienced combat, the only true heroes are those who didn't make it back.
Today I remember with honor and deep appreciation my step-brother, 2d Lt. Michael Lee Dewlen. And although I never got to meet him, I am proud to call him my brother.
R. David Weaver
P.S. -- If you are interested in reading his father's book, you likely can find it by Googling "Al Dewlen" and going to one of the sites that offer his work.
RDW
Monday, May 31, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
The Day I Became a Father
It was a harrowing 36-hour period. Shortly after midnight May 24, 1972, a young girl was abducted during a hold-up at a Waco 7-Eleven store, and as a reporter for the local newspaper, I was called in to cover the story. After the girl was released on the afternoon of May 25, my photographer and I conducted our interview, and copy and photos were turned in near deadline.
After an exhausting day and a half, I got home at about 11:00 p.m. on the 25th. It was a Thursday night, and I had planned to take off on Friday and spend a long Memorial Day weekend catching up on much-needed sleep and relaxation. But before I had settled in for the night, my wife informed me that she believed she was in labor with our first child. Instead of going to bed, we packed up and headed for the hospital.
I had seen enough movies and had watched enough "I Love Lucy" episodes to know that babies are born within two hours after the expectant mother gets to the hospital. So I naturally believed that I only was delaying my bedtime by a few hours, at most.
Movies and television programs do not necessarily reflect life as it often is.
After 19 hours of labor, at exactly 8:00 p.m. on May 26, 1972, Dena Gayle Weaver came into the world, and I became a father.
In those days, fathers were not permitted in the delivery room, so I paced in a traditional waiting room for expectant fathers smoking cigarettes (it was the fashionable thing to do at the time, and hospitals had no problem permitting smoking inside their facilities) and watching people come, have their babies, and leave, wondering all along why it could not have worked that way for me.
When the nurse finally rolled the incubator containing my baby into the waiting room, I was amazed at this creature with its eyes wide open, staring calmly up at a disheveled young man with a silly grin on his weary face.
From that moment, my life was forever changed.
I knew very early that Dena was special. When she was only 5 years old, she already was reading music, playing the piano and composing simple melodies. At that time, I surmised that she would become a famous composer and musician. But I was naive, and I believed that Dena's musical accomplishments at such an early age were due to talent, alone. What I later learned was that Dena has the ability to commit all of her effort and focus to whatever task she undertakes.
She graduated with honors from high school. She then attended Baylor University, graduating in four years with a degree in psychology. Although she wasn't sure what profession she wanted to enter at the time, circumstances brought her into contact with the business world when she accepted a position with a bank. During her time at the bank, she earned a Master's Degree in Business Administration and became a trust officer, handling millions of dollars entrusted to the care of the bank.
When the bank closed its Texas trust operations, she enrolled at Baylor Law School, and after three years, she graduated second in a Baylor law school class comprised of the brightest and best law students in the state.
She is now a third-year securities litigator with a large, multi-national law firm, and she currently is spending her birthday in Houston working on a major case involving billions of dollars and impacting thousands of people worldwide.
To say that I am proud of her is an understatement.
So happy birthday to Dena Weaver, one of the great successes of my life.
R. David Weaver
After an exhausting day and a half, I got home at about 11:00 p.m. on the 25th. It was a Thursday night, and I had planned to take off on Friday and spend a long Memorial Day weekend catching up on much-needed sleep and relaxation. But before I had settled in for the night, my wife informed me that she believed she was in labor with our first child. Instead of going to bed, we packed up and headed for the hospital.
I had seen enough movies and had watched enough "I Love Lucy" episodes to know that babies are born within two hours after the expectant mother gets to the hospital. So I naturally believed that I only was delaying my bedtime by a few hours, at most.
Movies and television programs do not necessarily reflect life as it often is.
After 19 hours of labor, at exactly 8:00 p.m. on May 26, 1972, Dena Gayle Weaver came into the world, and I became a father.
In those days, fathers were not permitted in the delivery room, so I paced in a traditional waiting room for expectant fathers smoking cigarettes (it was the fashionable thing to do at the time, and hospitals had no problem permitting smoking inside their facilities) and watching people come, have their babies, and leave, wondering all along why it could not have worked that way for me.
When the nurse finally rolled the incubator containing my baby into the waiting room, I was amazed at this creature with its eyes wide open, staring calmly up at a disheveled young man with a silly grin on his weary face.
From that moment, my life was forever changed.
I knew very early that Dena was special. When she was only 5 years old, she already was reading music, playing the piano and composing simple melodies. At that time, I surmised that she would become a famous composer and musician. But I was naive, and I believed that Dena's musical accomplishments at such an early age were due to talent, alone. What I later learned was that Dena has the ability to commit all of her effort and focus to whatever task she undertakes.
She graduated with honors from high school. She then attended Baylor University, graduating in four years with a degree in psychology. Although she wasn't sure what profession she wanted to enter at the time, circumstances brought her into contact with the business world when she accepted a position with a bank. During her time at the bank, she earned a Master's Degree in Business Administration and became a trust officer, handling millions of dollars entrusted to the care of the bank.
When the bank closed its Texas trust operations, she enrolled at Baylor Law School, and after three years, she graduated second in a Baylor law school class comprised of the brightest and best law students in the state.
She is now a third-year securities litigator with a large, multi-national law firm, and she currently is spending her birthday in Houston working on a major case involving billions of dollars and impacting thousands of people worldwide.
To say that I am proud of her is an understatement.
So happy birthday to Dena Weaver, one of the great successes of my life.
R. David Weaver
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
New Babies, Baptism, Confirmation, Poker & Golf
It's been about three weeks since I posted, and quite a bit has happened during that time. My two brand new granddaughters are growing like weeds. I am always amazed when a newborn begins to grow, develop a personality and actually becomes a little human being.
I had the singular honor of receiving Lillian's very first smile, and it was a special moment that I never will forget (although Dad, Mom and Nanna were a little jealous). Unfortunately, she and her mother are leaving very soon to return to Korea. Nancy is traveling with them, and for that I am grateful, as the long journey likely would be too much for Mandy to handle alone. I am going to miss them.
Annabelle keeps growing, and she is one of the most even-tempered, happy babies that I ever have seen. She seldom raises a fuss, and she is very quick to give a smile or a giggle to whomever is paying attention to her. She was baptized this past Sunday at her Church, and I was thrilled to be able to witness it. As the minister was holding her in preparation for the baptism, she gazed up at him and gave him a great, big smile.
Grandson Matthew has been attending classes at his Church since January, and this Sunday he is scheduled for confirmation. Matthew is 12 now, and he has grown into quite the young man. I am very proud of him.
While my family continues to grow and prosper, my poker game is on a roller coaster. I love the challenge of playing, and I have enjoyed some success. But just when I think I have figured out the best strategy to employ, I have a session where it seems that nothing works. So far, I still am ahead for the year, and I hope to continue to learn more and become a better player. Maybe some day I will be at the final table at one of those big tournaments playing for a big payday.
My golf game is stuck at a level with which I am entirely dissatisfied. I changed my golf club membership a little over a year ago, and I now am playing at a course that is much more challenging than the course I had spent the past 25 years playing. My handicap mushroomed from 12 to 17, and I am having trouble getting it reduced to where it was.
Meanwhile, I am getting ready for the Bishop Iker Golf Challenge at Squaw Valley Golf Course in Glen Rose. It is a beautiful golf course, and I always have enjoyed playing it. The annual charity tournament benefits Camp Crucis, which is a facility owned and operated by the Episcopal Diocese of Fort Worth, and I am proud to have been one of the sponsors of this tournament during the past four years or so.
My firm's new financial rehabilitation program is beginning to gain momentum as more and more people come to realize that simply discharging debt in bankruptcy is not enough to begin to build a foundation for permanent financial security. I am optimistic that as the message of hope that my firm is seeking to convey spreads, we will be able to assist more and more families in financial distress.
Until next time,
R. David Weaver
I had the singular honor of receiving Lillian's very first smile, and it was a special moment that I never will forget (although Dad, Mom and Nanna were a little jealous). Unfortunately, she and her mother are leaving very soon to return to Korea. Nancy is traveling with them, and for that I am grateful, as the long journey likely would be too much for Mandy to handle alone. I am going to miss them.
Annabelle keeps growing, and she is one of the most even-tempered, happy babies that I ever have seen. She seldom raises a fuss, and she is very quick to give a smile or a giggle to whomever is paying attention to her. She was baptized this past Sunday at her Church, and I was thrilled to be able to witness it. As the minister was holding her in preparation for the baptism, she gazed up at him and gave him a great, big smile.
Grandson Matthew has been attending classes at his Church since January, and this Sunday he is scheduled for confirmation. Matthew is 12 now, and he has grown into quite the young man. I am very proud of him.
While my family continues to grow and prosper, my poker game is on a roller coaster. I love the challenge of playing, and I have enjoyed some success. But just when I think I have figured out the best strategy to employ, I have a session where it seems that nothing works. So far, I still am ahead for the year, and I hope to continue to learn more and become a better player. Maybe some day I will be at the final table at one of those big tournaments playing for a big payday.
My golf game is stuck at a level with which I am entirely dissatisfied. I changed my golf club membership a little over a year ago, and I now am playing at a course that is much more challenging than the course I had spent the past 25 years playing. My handicap mushroomed from 12 to 17, and I am having trouble getting it reduced to where it was.
Meanwhile, I am getting ready for the Bishop Iker Golf Challenge at Squaw Valley Golf Course in Glen Rose. It is a beautiful golf course, and I always have enjoyed playing it. The annual charity tournament benefits Camp Crucis, which is a facility owned and operated by the Episcopal Diocese of Fort Worth, and I am proud to have been one of the sponsors of this tournament during the past four years or so.
My firm's new financial rehabilitation program is beginning to gain momentum as more and more people come to realize that simply discharging debt in bankruptcy is not enough to begin to build a foundation for permanent financial security. I am optimistic that as the message of hope that my firm is seeking to convey spreads, we will be able to assist more and more families in financial distress.
Until next time,
R. David Weaver
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