Tell My Story

I'm back in Seattle now, enjoying a spot of sunshine in an otherwise very wet day and trying to decide if it violates some sort of basic blog rule if I keep posting these entries after my travels are done. But given that we crammed about forty days' worth of activities into a nine-day trip, I'm giving myself permission. And so... I'll continue to tell my story.

I'll begin with a long-neglected introduction.

Who was David Warner?

Water-skier, ravine-climber, pond-paddler, snow-skier, motorcycle-rider, smallest kid on the football team.

Ayn Rand reader, philosophizer, music-lover, photographer.

Mischief-maker, sister-provoker, quick-witted, kind-hearted, risk-taker.

Honest, funny, Eagle Scout, generous, savvy, brave, wry, tender at the bone.

First-born, devoted son, loyal friend, loving boyfriend, and One Awesome Big Brother.

Dave volunteered for the Marine Corps and he served well. He wanted to go to Vietnam - first for personal reasons (in one of his tapes home he explains, "I figure if you're ever going to learn about yourself, that's where it's going to be and your true beliefs are going to come out there.") There were other reasons -- political, pragmatic, economic -- but ultimately, as he said, "I have confidence in my own ability."

Those who were in Vietnam with him describe him as a good mentor, good leader, good friend, always willing to listen, always willing to serve.

Four years ago I made a promise. On that first trip to Hue City Chuck Meadows, my brother's former commanding officer, took me to the area where Dave lost his life. Standing at the edge of a shimmering, vibrant green rice paddy that day, I had an unexpected and profound sense of my brother's presence. It was as though he said two things: "I've been waiting for you," and "Tell my story."

And so I have, and so I will: in words, with a little school in A Xing, and by trying my best to spend my days as he might have done -- "living in color and laughing out loud." (Shawn Colvin)