Memorial

Jay-D Ornsby-Adkins
December 9, 1985 - April 28, 2007

Robyn Ornsby is a fairly new friend of mine and a Gold Star Mom,

a mother who has lost a son in the service of our country.  She’s not just any mother, she’s the mom of my daughter Alicia’s long time best friend, Morgan.

Like all Gold Star Moms, this weekend will be less festive

for Robyn than most Americans who will be bar-b-queuing. 

It is the official time for these mothers to grieve the child

they have lost in protecting the United States.  It is the one

day that they are joined in their grief by all of us, as we stop

our lives and remember the fallen soldiers that made

life in America possible for the rest of us.

“Ever since I lost my boy I have battled with why people

don’t celebrate this holiday,” Robyn told me.  “I have a

hair salon and if I ask a group of fifty people what

Memorial Day is, only one or two will know exactly

who we are remembering.” 

According to the most recent Gallup poll, only 28%

know that the holiday exists to honor those who

died in war.  Those who have died in war leave

behind families, and they remember the fallen

as more than just soldiers.

“My Jay-D was born a mischievous little

monkey,” Robyn laughed when she first told me

about him.  “Honestly, he was a little character

who found joy in challenging me!” Her laughter faded

and she sighed, “I would give anything

to have him here challenging me now.”

Jay-D was born on  December 9, 1985

and seemed to be all boy through and through right away. 

“He was mighty and tough, and he

wouldn’t tolerate anyone bullying him.  He’d give them a good fight.”  Robyn was always trying to teach the delicate balance of sticking up for oneself and self-control, especially when Jay-D started sticking up for his friends in the same manner. 

“I would get a call from the principal's office, and they'd tell me that Jay-D was in there for fighting a boy who was bullying someone else,” Robyn told me. 

“When he got home, I asked him 'Why are you fighting other people’s battles?' He answered me  ‘Well, it just didn’t seem right!’”

Robyn told me that Jay-D always seemed drawn to help the underdog.  “At a time when it was not cool for him to help the Down Syndrome kids in school, he would.  We were at the movies once and a man in a wheelchair was trying to gain access and the other teens were just watching. 

It was Jay-D who stood up and helped the man open the door and find his way down the aisles.  He was just like that, always helping someone.”

The boy who fought other people’s battles grew up, discovering

his own tender interior.  “He taught himself how to play guitar, he loved ‘Sweet Home Alabama,’ which he played very well.”

After high school, Jay-D chose to enlist in the US Army, since career opportunities seemed more promising after finishing school.  “Jay-D wanted to get his life started,” Robyn said.  “He knew that if he enlisted he would be able

 to earn money for college and get other opportunities.” 

At twenty years old, he was enlisted, sworn in and enrolled in boot camp.  It was there thathe became a soldier.  “Once boot camp was over,” Robyn told me.  “Everything changed.  He was very focused on fighting for his country. 

Shortly after, he was deployed to Bagdad, Iraq, where he served as a tanker gunner.  While the main gun is what most people think of when it comes to tanks, Jay D was part of the crew that operated the machine guns mounted outside.

With a heavy heart, Robyn told me about the day

 her son was killed.  “It was actually supposed to

be his day off.  He wasn’t supposed to work that

day, but they needed him.  He agreed to go, not

only because he was part of a team, but also he

could apply that day to his next leave.”  Instead

of their usual tank, the team took a Hummer as

part of a convoy and made their way through the

streets.  On the side of the road, waiting, was the

enemy.  As soon as the company’s Hummer was

 in range, the enemy exploded an IED –

an Improvised Explosive Device.

It was a massive tragedy.  Of the four soldiers in

Jay-D’s Hummer, three were killed.  The enemy

was fired upon by the surviving convoy and killed. 

Retribution, or justice, does not satisfy.  War is truly hell.

“I was able to bury Jay-D in Sunset View, a

 cemetery in Jackson,” Robyn said, after she

 composed herself.  “It is a beautiful and peaceful place.” 

Each Memorial Day, this Gold Star Mom has a

cherished wish: that Americans would stop and

remember what this day really is all about. 

“I see the advertisements for the Auto Malls,

the shopping centers, and the grocery stores. 

All of them say “Memorial Day Sale!”  I wonder

 if they will honor any fallen Veterans there;

I think they won’t.  It’s all a money-making

 opportunity then.”

Knowing Robyn has changed the way I see Memorial Day.

 I think about Jay-D a lot.  His sister (my daughter’s bestie)

 has a young son that his Uncle Jay-D will never meet. 

He’s a beautiful bundle of joy – named Jay-D.

“I love little Jay-D!” Robyn says when she speaks of her

grandson, her voice lifting with excitement.  “Morgan

shares him with me and I watch him every Monday!”

Everyone who has lost a person close to them know the

painful reality that life goes on.  While it does, it helps

to grieve with others.  On Monday, we all grieve together.

 I will grieve with the Ornsby’s for their son; I will grieve

 for all who fell in battle.

Our soldiers are more than men and women in uniform.

They are someone's baby, someone's spouse,

someone's uncle or aunt.  I will grieve the fallen;

I will celebrate the freedom that I have inherited

because of them.  After all, that is what Memorial Day is.

(Uncle) Jay-D December 1985          Baby Jay-D   May 2015