27-32

FRANCIS, MALIN E

GALBRAITH, WILLIAM LYLE

GARDNER, DAVID BOYD

GOWERS, JAY E

HALTERMAN, AUSTIN

HALVERSON, MAX B

     As I begin this project, I feel enthusiastic. I'm excited to watch the miles fly by. As the mile count gets higher and higher, I become more and more proud of how far I have run. However, I need to stop every once in a while and recognize that each mile, each name represents a life. A life full of hope and promise, a life full of bravery and fear, a life full of joy and pain. Each number represents a life built up by the hundreds who cared for him. So much love, care, sacrifice, instruction, and work was put into each person. These lives were tragically cut short and cut down in their prime. All of these losses are tragic, they are all regrettable and almost seem unnecessary. Here are some of their stories:

     David Boyd Gardner and Jay Earl Gowers were tragically killed in unrelated plane crashes. Both were in the United States and both were completing routine training. Lieutenant Gardner enlisted after his first year at BYU. He graduated pilot training at Luke Air Force Base and was completing a tour there as an instructor when his plane crashed into the ground.

Lt. Gardner

     Austin Halterman and Max B Halverson were both taken as Prisoners of War by the Japanese. Both survived the infamous Bataan Death March. During a prisoner transport by the Japanese, their transport-the Arisan Maru- was misidentified and torpedoed by an American submarine on October 24, 1944. They, along with hundreds of other POW's, perished in the action.

     When I run, I write all of their initials on my wrist and mutter or gasp a thanks to each name. These men paid the ultimate sacrifice. I can't imagine explaining to a family that their son's death was due to friendly fire, or faulty equipment, or a simple mistake. What was the point of their death? Were their lives wasted? If I'm killed in a car accident or plane crash will my life be wasted?  I'm tempted to say yes.

     What these men have taught me though, is that the answer is no. No life is wasted that is spent doing good. No life is wasted that eases the pain of others, or that teaches or inspires another. When Austin Halterman was a POW, he made friends with and inspired a fellow POW. John Shadoan, touched by the faith and courage of Austin, survived the war, married and provided for Austin's widow and child, and later joined the LDS church. Here is just one example of the countless lives that were touched by these men.

          I'm inspired by their faith. I'm inspired by their sacrifice. What matters much more than the cause of death is the cause that they stood for in life. In the end, we won't be defined by the brief chain of events that causes our death, but by the flowing and never-ending ripples that we create throughout our lives.

 

21-26

CRANMER, ROBERT A

DAVIES, ARTHUR C

DAVIS, KEITH GILES

DUGGAN, ROBERT E

DUNFORD, PAUL OLIVER

FOX, JOHN WELDON

11-20

BURNSIDE, DON N

CALLAHAN, KENNETH E

CAMPBELL, CHARLES R

CASE, KEITH C

CHATWIN, JAMES E

CHRISTENSEN, DONALD N

CHRISTENSEN, DON ALMA

CHRISTENSEN, ALLEN P

COLLARD, ELLIS M

COX, DAVID LARRAIN Jr.

I went running today after a long week in Arizona. I got the incredible opportunity to fly in the backseat on two training missions with the 62nd F-16 Squadron at Luke AFB. It was the coolest thing I've ever done, hands-down and I got to see how talented and professional our Air Force pilots really are. Coming back to Utah and running after a week of driving, flying, and pulling up to 6 G's was pretty rough. I planned to go 10 miles, but on mile 2 I was dying. My heart and lungs didn't want to cooperate and I almost gave up due to a stabbing pain in my chest. I didn't though. I've made a commitment to go a little above and beyond on every run for these guys, and I pushed on. By mile 4 my body finally realized that I wasn't going to wimp out and it got with the program. I finished the 10 miles and dedicated it to the men listed above.

Being able to fly and spend time with men who put their lives on the line every time they go up was a big eye-opener. They sacrifice so much more than we realize, and are our first line of defense. We can sleep in peace knowing that somebody is always awake and out there, keeping us safe.

5-10

BEAN, WILLIS F

BIRD, GENE EMMETT

BRAITHWAITE, BURKE T

BROBERG, CRAIG NELSON

BROWN, CLYDE GLEN

BROWN, HUGH CARD

1-4

AAMOLD, STANLEY CARL

ABBOT, LANE MYRON

ADAIR, JAY ROSS

ATWOOD, DALE F

What's this all about, anyways?

Yesterday was November 11. It's a day that originally was celebrated as Armistice Day, the end of World War I. Today, Veterans Day is a day to honor all who have served their country, all those who have sacrificed in her defense. It was a perfect day to begin a tribute that has long been on my mind.

In BYU’s Smith Fieldhouse, every Tuesday and Thursday morning at 0650 you'll see almost 150 students form a semicircle and get into push-up position. A sudden silence fills the gym and in that moment you get the feeling that something is happening, something is forming. As one team, one unit, one family, the ROTC cadets silently count push-up after push-up. These push-ups aren't to build muscle, to gain strength, or tire the cadets. These memorial push-ups are done with respect, honor, and love toward a soldier who has fallen in battle. Each morning a different hero is honored through the cadets’ effort and reverence.

Something about this speaks to me. I come from a long line of soldiers and servicemen and families who supported them. I can't express how grateful I am to those who have served and sacrificed before me.

 

BYU Memorial Hall is a small corner of the Wilkinson Center. The South wall is lined with plaques and names- 210 names of those BYU alumni who have given their lives for their country. These are people who studied where I study, walked where I walk, and wanted the same things in life that I want before their lives were tragically cut short in defense of our freedom, our peace, and our families.

Their names have been on my mind for a while now. I have wanted to pay tribute to them, each one, but I didn't know how. What could I possibly give to those who have given everything for me? The answer suddenly struck me one day. I need to live; I need to live life to the fullest. I need to seize every bit of joy that they paid for. I need to love. I love life. I love love. And I love running. I'm going to do what I love and never stop. But while I do it, I'm going to thank them. I'm going to personally thank each individual on that wall for what they gave to me. I know I can never repay them, but I hope that in some small way, I can pay my respects.

In the next few months as I prepare to graduate from BYU and enter the United States Air Force, I will run 210 miles. Each mile will be in honor of a hero on that wall. As I run each mile, I'll wear a hero's initials. I'll think of them. I'll thank them. I'll get cold, I'll get tired, and I'll get sore. This effort will require energy, pain, and discomfort. It'll take a lot out of me. But it will remind me that I'm alive-I'm free. It would dishonor their sacrifice to do anything else.