2008 Woodie Awards
There is a time and place for speaking out, a fallen soldier's funeral is not it
Commentary
Megan Munroe
Issue date: 11/16/07 Section: Opinions
Originally published: 11/15/07 at 8:00 PM EST
Last update: 11/15/07 at 8:19 PM EST
I'll admit it - after years of hearing and reading the names of fallen soldiers, I've become desensitized to the death and senseless violence that is becoming more and more commonplace as the war on terror drags on.
Earlier this week, one name really hit home - Adam Muller, the husband of my co-worker and friend, Michelle Muller.
I met Michelle at the end of last semester when I started my new job at Chrissy Beanz Bakery in Sackets Harbor, N.Y. She's a few months older than I, and had just graduated from a year-long baking program in her home state of Vermont.
Michelle and her husband had moved to the area when Adam was stationed at Fort Drum, the Army base 30 minutes from my hometown.
Adam, a year older than Michelle and I, had joined the Army in the summer of 2006 to pay for his college bills, and was sent to Kirkuk, Iraq, in September.
Two months later, he is dead.
Though he'd been told Kirkuk was significantly more stable than other parts of Iraq - and that it was actually relatively safe in comparison to, say, Baghdad - Adam, along with three other Fort Drum soldiers, was victim to one of many roadside bombs that we hear so much about.
When I heard the news from a co-worker, I immediately flashed back to my days in the kitchen with Michelle, sharing stories and laughs as we kneaded dough, mixed batter and decorated cakes. She talked about moving back home, to Richmond, VT, and the bakery her and Adam would be opening there. They knew the location, they'd drawn the floor plans - Michelle had even been saving recipes for years, for one-of-a-kind treats she planned on serving in her dream bakery.
Michelle also spoke of her worries - the financial troubles of starting a business, how much harder it would be to do while spending a year without her husband. But she never said a word about the worst-case scenario, though her nerves and obvious anxiety were clear indications of what was on her mind.
When I said goodbye to Michelle at the close of summer, I told her I couldn't wait to visit her bakery on opening day, that I'd hop the ferry across Lake Champlain to be first in line when the doors opened.
Earlier this week, one name really hit home - Adam Muller, the husband of my co-worker and friend, Michelle Muller.
I met Michelle at the end of last semester when I started my new job at Chrissy Beanz Bakery in Sackets Harbor, N.Y. She's a few months older than I, and had just graduated from a year-long baking program in her home state of Vermont.
Michelle and her husband had moved to the area when Adam was stationed at Fort Drum, the Army base 30 minutes from my hometown.
Adam, a year older than Michelle and I, had joined the Army in the summer of 2006 to pay for his college bills, and was sent to Kirkuk, Iraq, in September.
Two months later, he is dead.
Though he'd been told Kirkuk was significantly more stable than other parts of Iraq - and that it was actually relatively safe in comparison to, say, Baghdad - Adam, along with three other Fort Drum soldiers, was victim to one of many roadside bombs that we hear so much about.
When I heard the news from a co-worker, I immediately flashed back to my days in the kitchen with Michelle, sharing stories and laughs as we kneaded dough, mixed batter and decorated cakes. She talked about moving back home, to Richmond, VT, and the bakery her and Adam would be opening there. They knew the location, they'd drawn the floor plans - Michelle had even been saving recipes for years, for one-of-a-kind treats she planned on serving in her dream bakery.
Michelle also spoke of her worries - the financial troubles of starting a business, how much harder it would be to do while spending a year without her husband. But she never said a word about the worst-case scenario, though her nerves and obvious anxiety were clear indications of what was on her mind.
When I said goodbye to Michelle at the close of summer, I told her I couldn't wait to visit her bakery on opening day, that I'd hop the ferry across Lake Champlain to be first in line when the doors opened.
Viewing Comments 1 - 1 of 1
Michelle Muller
posted 1/24/08 @ 5:52 PM EST
Megan,
I hope you read these posts. Thank you for this, I can't tell you how much it means to me. I am with you all the way. I not only feel for my family but for all the thousands of others that have gone through this horror before me. (Continued…)
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