Posted on: Thursday, March 24, 2005

ISLAND VOICES

By Susan Lai Young

The shock was like a physical blow when I first learned of Lance Cpl. Michael L. Starr Jr.'s death on Jan. 26 in a devastating helicopter crash in Iraq. Suddenly the headlines and the magazine pictures became horribly personal.

A young man who had shared with us his hopes, dreams and the grace of his presence was now gone. It seemed that the unfairness of life and chance had suddenly come into sharp focus — it was too soon for someone like Michael to leave us.

He was introduced to us by our daughter two-and-a-half years ago, a very young Marine just assigned to Hawai'i who thought it would be "cool" to learn to surf. Assigned to Hawai'i, far away from home in Baltimore, he was quickly "adopted" into our family.

Hesitant at first, he soon became a regular weekend presence. He would always walk through the front door and greet us with his lilting "Hello."

We invited him over for dinners and holidays and weekends. Michael, always polite, courteous and respectful, had strong family values. He was always focused and balanced in life. And we watched him grow as he was deployed twice to Asia, where he experienced both acceptance and hostility from host countries.

Nevertheless, he was very proud to be a Marine and always sought to learn new skills to be the best he could. Like most young adults, Michael enjoyed life, relishing each and every moment. Yet he was mature enough to plan for his future. He took the maximum savings deductions from his pay and saved whatever he had left at the end of each month.

Just before he went to Iraq, he bought a computer. Although he had fun surfing the Net and sending e-mails, he quickly turned to using the Internet to search for job opportunities in anticipation of leaving the Marines. Soon he had secured a position as a Baltimore police officer. He was overjoyed. This young man was on his way to a solid career opportunity in his hometown.

Having served two overseas deployments and suffering injuries during training, Michael did not have to deploy to Iraq. But when the opportunity came, he took it immediately, saying that this was what he had trained for and that as a Marine, he was the best person for the job.

Since the day we learned of his death, I have been searching for some form of comfort or some answer that would validate his life and give me some context for his loss. Two themes come most often to me:

• I have become too complacent. I should no longer take living for granted. And because our time here on Earth is limited, I need to think carefully how best to spend it.

• Regardless of our opinions as to whether we should be in Iraq or any other war zone, the fact is that our fathers, mothers, sons, daughters and friends are overseas risking their lives.

While we go about our daily routines and deal with the relatively small hassles of our lives and jobs, there are soldiers risking their lives every minute, every day, on a very hostile battlefield.

There are also thousands of others who may not be on the front lines but who still willingly put themselves at risk from rocket attacks and terrorist tactics. One of the most important resolutions that I have taken from Michael's death is that we show our appreciation that our troops have chosen a dangerous job and placed themselves in harm's way on our behalf.

I don't ever want to think that Michael died in vain. Another resolution I made is to live the rest of my life to show that he made a difference in my life, that I should honor his sacrifice by being a better and more caring person. In a tiny way, I hope I can show he did make a difference on this Earth.

To our soldiers, sailors, aviators and guardsmen, mahalo and may God bless and protect each of you.

Susan Lai Young is a Honolulu resident.