I Digress for a Maxx Update...

I'll continue Maxx's story in my next post (which will be entitled "5 Degrees of Separation"), as I want to give a quick synopsis of the 8 letters we've received since Maxx left for bootcamp on July 28:

August 1
We receive a form letter in which Maxx has filled in the blanks to give us his new address at Parris Island. Trouble is, the return address he wrote on the envelope is different from the one on the form letter. I take a guess and use the pre-printed address on the form letter and send 2 letters off to this address.

August 4
We receive another form letter in which Maxx is allowed to fill in one blank: Dear MOM,... The letter tells us his Senior Drill Instructor is Staff Sergeant Baio, and then lists the rules and regulations regarding mail. At the bottom is another address, which turns out to be the correct address. Next to that, in real little print, Maxx has written "143," which is our family code for "I Love You." I know he's fine by this message from my little guy!

This address causes me to go back and look at the 1st form letter we received. Upon close inspection, I realized the 2 letters I sent were actually sent to the P.O. box of the Commanding Officer of Parris Island!!! Garry and I laughed, as we figured the scene must have gone something like this:

The Commanding Officer of Parris Island calls Maxx to his quarters.
"Recruit Useless! Can you explain to me why your family is sending mail to you to MY POST OFFICE BOX?!! Do you think you're the Commanding Officer of Parris Island, Useless?!!"

Rct. Juusola: "SIR, NO, SIR! PLEASE FORGIVE THIS RECRUIT, SIR! THIS RECRUIT HAS SEVERE DYSLEXIA, SIR!"

The C.O.: "Go outside and practice falling down, Useless, until I meet you on the quarter deck!"

Rct. Juusola: "SIR, YES, SIR!

August 8
He loves his new life, he loves the PT (physical training); it's hard but "it's all good." The chow is good and so are the lessons and classes. He learned about uniforms and basic 1st aid. "It's hard and physically demanding, but my Senior Drill Instructor Sgt. Baio and the other Drill Instructors are really cool. I'm the Lay Leader in charge of the 20 minutes or so that we have for prayers and devotions for the Protestants, which is anyone not Catholic!"

August 14
"This Recruit wakes up at 0400 to go to chow, then marches home. We clean our house (funny, he never did that at home!), so if someone comes to inspect it, it's clean and we don't get PT'd (oh, that's how they do it!). He told us he fought with pugle sticks and began MCMAP (Marine Corps Martial Arts Program) and got 2 "kills" (how nice, sweetheart, mommy's soooo proud!). He loves receiving letters; it's a great morale booster.

August 15
"Today was amazing...I have an upper respiratory infection and a sinus infection, so every time I swallow, even spit, it feels like hot, rusty nails." (Just what every mother wants to hear when she's 1,400 miles away and can do nothing!) They went for a 2-mile run and the corpsmen had to leave for an emergency, so the platoon was told to walk. Maxx began power walking as a joke, but then the platoon passes the Gunnery Sgt., who screams, "EVERYONE POWER WALK LIKE HIM; FASTER; He wants it, He's MOTIVATED, He wants that promotion!!!" Maxx passes everyone and ends up 3rd when they get back to the track. He sees his SDI Sgt. Baio standing in the field and he passes the finish at a full sprint. They get back to their "house" and Sgt. Baio says, "Useless, come here and drink this for me!" He gives Maxx a Gatorade and says to Maxx, "People that take care of me, I take care of." The next letter I sent included cough drops...

August 24
"This Recruit is doing great!" Maxx is now in charge of the Big Gear Locker (from what I understand, it's where all the guns are stored...correct me if I'm wrong, Sgt. Larsen!). "Today we went on a hike and it was 5 miles. Our platoon was the only one to have no one fall out 'cause I was pushing a guy literally by his pack the last 1/4 mile, but it's all good!" Sgt Baio told them to go "home," so Maxx sprints home with a full pack and rifle and got to hold the door. "When everyone was in, Sgt. Baio said, 'Good job today, Big Guy!' and gave me a pat on the shoulder...that was the highlight of my day!" The entire platoon failed the SDI inspection because their rifles got all mixed up. When the DIs asked for their serial numbers, no one knew! Bet they all know them now. He loves church there; it's really cool.

August 25
"Happy Birthday, Mom!" "Well, things here at Parris Island are all the same; wake up at 0400, but lately it has not stopped raining, but, it's all good! As they say, 'If it's not raining, we're not training!' And, believe me, we're training!"

August 26 was the beginning of Maxx's water survival training, which lasted until Friday of that week. On that Friday, he also had his MCMAP test. On Monday, Sept 1; Maxx had his initial written test, went rappelling, and went into the gas chamber for his gas mask training. We prayed constantly for Maxx throughout each day of this week and decided we'd hear something if anything went wrong. We were happy when the phone never rang.

September 3
"How are y'all doing? Me? I'm great! Today I got my tan belt in MCMAP. It was great fun! I also got my combat water survival certification. I swam 50m with a rifle, kevlar, and flack jacket. That was hard, but I just do like I do with everything else: I say, 'God, I'm so tired, my body's broken down and I don't know how I'm going to do this, so whatever you want, just give me the strength' and He does." "Just keep praying for me, it helps!"
We send stamps and pens. Only 6 more weeks until The Crucible...

"Hello, Ma'am? This is Sgt. French..."

Every day on my way home from work, I'd called Maxx to see how his day went, to ask what he was doing and to find out what time he'd be home for dinner. On this particular Monday, I knew he was planning to visit the Marine Recruiting office after school, so I wasn't surprised when my call went straight to voicemail. Garry and I got home, read some mail, and I started dinner. I decided to call Maxx again so dinner would be hot and ready when he got home. Again, my call went straight to Maxx's voicemail. No worries, it's still only 5:30 PM. He probably decided to hang with some friends after his visit with the Marines and forgot to turn his phone back on. He'll call soon. Garry and I decided to eat at 6:00 PM. We talked a bit about where Maxx might be and how unusual it is that he hasn't called or left a message on the kitchen counter, as we have always done as a family to let everyone know of our whereabouts and expected time home. Garry said, "Don't worry, he'll be home soon, even if he doesn't call." We cleaned up the kitchen at around 7:00 PM, got our lunch and clothes ready for the next day, and sat down to read and relax. All through this time, I'm beginning to get worried. My thoughts were the same ones hard-wired for centuries into mothers all over the world: "Maxx has already totalled his Jaguar, walking away unscathed by the grace of God! What if he's wrecked his car again?" and "What if he's hurt?" to "I can't believe he's being so thoughtless! He knows to call, he knows we eat dinner together, he KNOWS BETTER!!!" and finally "Wait 'til he gets home, you can bet he's not going ANYWHERE after school tomorrow!"

At 8:00 PM the phone rings:
"Hello, Ma'am? This is Sgt. French of the United States Marines. I'm calling to tell you I have your son, Maxx, here with me. He's scored very high on his ASVAB (Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery), so we're taking him to the Crowne Plaza overnight for medical processing at the MEPS (Military Entrance Processing Station) in downtown Dallas tomorrow morning. You should be very proud of your son, ma'am!"

I tersely and slowly responded to this proud, young man, "Sgt. French, let me speak with my son!"

"...Hi, mom!"

"MAXX, you were supposed to get information today, NOT JOIN THE MARINES!"

(Side note: When Maxx was 2-years-old, my sister, Carol, said, "When anyone asks him what his name is, he's gonna yell 'My name is "MAXX!!!,' 'cause you're always yelling his name to stop the next disaster from happening!" )

I felt like the next disaster was happening.

The Ladies Love a Man in a Uniform

So, now Maxx is looking at the Marines and continues to play football to stay in shape for the military. As a sophomore, he gets to play for the Susquehannock High School Warrior football team. In 2005, they are the 1st team in school history to make it to the playoffs. Unfortunately, they lost in the 1st round. At the end of 2005, we make a decision to move to Dallas, TX to continue my career with Southwest Airlines. We choose Garland High School for the football program. For the 2006 football season, Maxx plays on the Garland Owls football team as they move all the way to the state semi-finals, where they lost in this last round. If you view the tapes, you'll see this was a questionable victory for the other team! Maxx, however,was able to play in Texas Stadium and even went on to work at the stadium as security for a few games. After one game, he walked both Tony Romo and Terrell Owens to their cars. He said they were great guys who talked to him about the game and his football playing. It was a great time in Maxx's life.

His junior year came and I had to learn all about mums and garters and homecoming. Maxx began getting letters from colleges asking him to visit to consider playing for their teams. The Navy and Marine recruiters who came to the school were courting Maxx as well. He kept saying, "Mom, I really like football, but I just don't think I wanna go to college! I really wanna either go in the Navy or go into the Marines. I want to go in as an enlisted man and work my way up to gain the respect of my men...I don't wanna go in as an officer, I wanna earn it!"

The summer before his senior year came and went. Maxx worked as a lifeguard at Hawaiian Falls water park in Garland that summer and had a great time. He was still undecided about college or military, so one weekend during school we were sitting around talking about it. The truth came out: Maxx knew that the ladies would looooooooooove those crisp, sweet-looking Marine dress blues way more than they'd dig the little white sailor's cap. Besides, he loved the brotherhood that the Marines offer: Once a Marine, Always a Marine. I said, "So, why don't you just go on Monday to the Marine Recruiting Office and just ask about what you need to do?" This was on a Sunday night. On Monday, Garry and I went into his room to kiss him goodbye as we left for work, as we have done for years. It would be the last time I would feel that my son belonged to me.

No Guns in This House!

Maxx has told all his Texas friends that he's an only child, however, he is the youngest (but largest) of 3 between Garry and I. His friends back east know his oldest sister, Jessi; and his step-sister, Heather; who joined our family when Garry and I married in August of 2002. What many people may not know is that I was totally opposed to guns in our household when the children were little...even toy guns! I never had a brother and my 1st child was a girl, so I had no idea that boys are hard-wired for destruction and mayhem. Maxx seems to have come into this world with a propensity toward weaponry and all things military, which this former pacifist mom had trouble keeping contained. At about 2-years-old, Maxx became creative enough to make his own weapons of mass destruction. He'd take a stuffed toy dog, hold one front leg and one back leg and point it at his sister, making the sound of a machine gun. There was not a tree branch, wooden spoon, or Lego that didn't become a gun of some kind.

I finally realized I was losing this battle at the end of 2nd grade. At the end of every school year, the children were allowed to pick out any book they wanted from the bookstore to add to their treasured personal libraries. Maxx chose "The Battle for Korea." The next year he chose "The Shipwrecks of Guadalcanal." And so it went. I finally gave in, I think, somewhere in the 4th grade. Much to Jessi's chagrin, we began buying Maxx Nerf weapons thinking that perhaps we'd tame the destruction. He became adept at stealth and could get his sister point-blank every time! Jessi hid many a Nerf dart that we'd find months later behind a dresser or in the very back of a closet.

Maxx continued to grow taller and taller and, at 10-years-old was about 5' tall. By 12, he began talking about wanting to become a Navy Seal. I work for Southwest Airlines, which is my extended family, so I contacted a friend in the Norfolk Station who's boyfriend (now husband) worked at the Naval Base there. He agreed to meet us at the airport and take us to the Naval Base for a tour. When Dewey picked us up, he and Maxx began talking non-stop about all things Navy. When we arrived on base, Maxx would point out aircraft, vehicles, and weapons and tell Dewey what they were. I'd whisper to Dewey, "Is that right?" He'd say, "Yes, it is ma'am!" I was bursting with pride. We were able to go on a Russian submarine and on the flight deck of the USS Ronald Reagan, where we witnessed the bell-clanging, snap-to saluting arrival of the Captain. Maxx was in heaven! The best part of our tour was when Dewey brought us to meet Navy Seal Team 10. We walked up to the open tent where they were resting. They looked so ominous sitting there with their camos and dark glasses on, casually cleaning their weapons. I stayed back to let Maxx bask in the moment. The commander of the team came up to Maxx and began talking. He asked why Maxx was there and they talked for a while. The commander of Navy Seal Team 10 then turned to me and said, "You have a very intelligent son here, ma'am!" I squeaked out, "Thank you" and was glad I had sunglasses on to hide the tears welling up in my eyes. I'd shed tears of sadness many years later when Maxx and I found out that all of these men, save one, were killed in an ambush in Afghanistan in June 2005. You can read the eyewitness account of Marcus Luttrell in his book "Lone Survivor."

In 7th grade, Maxx decided to play football for the purpose of getting in shape for the military. By that time, Maxx had begun getting to know Garry's dad, Garry senior, a bit better. Garry was a sharpshooter and a Sargeant in the Marines; a Korean War Veteran. He would have stayed a Lifer had it not been for a car accident in Korea that left him with a broken back. The Marines offered him a desk job or an Honorable Discharge. His heart was with his men back in the field, so it was with great sadness that Garry took the Honorable Discharge. I think he carried this sadness with him the rest of his life. We buried him in a Marine Corps casket in June of 2005 with a military burial and a full 21-gun salute. He would have loved it.