In a poem Army Spc. Noah Pierce wrote after his first tour of duty in Iraq, he mused, "I wonder if the smell of death will ever leave my nose."
Two years after he killed himself while suffering post traumatic stress disorder, his mother, Cheryl Softich, can answer that question.
"It doesn't," she said. "It's in mine. It never goes away."
She's hoping that by sharing Noah's story, through the words of his own angst-ridden poetry, she can somehow spare other mothers and loved ones the same grief.
• • •
For her creative writing class at Western Nevada College, Marilee Swirczek assigned her students to read about and research the themes of war and peace and conflict.
From there, they were to write poetry, prose and nonfiction accounts based on what they'd learned in an exhibit to be displayed at the college.
It was a way, she said, to personalize an increasingly impersonal war.
"But it really just took on a life of its own," she said.
One student collected photos of more than 4,100 servicemembers killed in the current conflicts. Others photographed and interviewed veterans who were attending Western Nevada College, including Lance Cpl. Alex Malm of Gardnerville.
"It became a real personal journey for all of us because we were looking at all these faces," Swirczek said. "The students became personally invested not in the war but in the individuals who were fighting."
Three weeks before the exhibit, "Always Lost: A Meditation on War," was to go up, Swirczek got an unexpected e-mail.
One of her students had called a family member in Minnesota and talked about the project. Word there spread to Cheryl, who thought her son's writings would be an insightful addition.
And they were. Along with portraits of Pierce, the exhibit includes poems Pierce wrote about his two tours in Iraq and his feelings about coming home.
He wrote about a 7-year-old boy he befriended who would bring him food. Although they could never communicate, he considered the boy a friend.
The day Pierce left, the boy hugged his neck and cried.
"I say it will be OK," Pierce wrote. "I still wonder if he is."
He wrote about how he mistakenly killed a doctor.
"The investigation says it was done by the books. I ask myself, what the f____ kind of war is this."
In his poem, "Still at War," he concludes, "mentally, I will never be home."
On July 25, 2007, he drove to a favorite childhood spot. With a knife, he carved "freedom is not free" into the dashboard of his truck. Then he placed his dogtag to his temple, pressed a pistol to the tag and pulled the trigger.
During the show's opening night May 28, viewers were so moved by Noah's story, they took up a collection to bring his parents Carson City.
"In a way, he became our son," Swirczek said.
• • •
On Thursday, Softich wept as she read the poems hanging in the hallway of the Bristlecone Building.
She kissed her fingertips and touched them to the glass of her son's portrait.
"I promised Noah when he was alive that I would get his work published and out there," she said. "In death, his words are reaching out and trying to help others not to do what he did."
She said she had already planned to come to Carson City to see the exhibit, but was touched when the community raised the money to fly her and her husband, Tom, from their home in Eveleth, Minn.
"These people love my son," she said. "My son has become just as important to them as he always was for me."
Leesa and David Malm attended the exhibit's opening to see the story and photo of their Marine son.
"I wasn't prepared for how emotional it was going to be," Leesa said. She donated to the fund to bring the Softiches to Carson City, and offered her guest house to them.
"I'm honored to have them here," she said. "Good for her that she's out there making a difference. It's important that her son's story is being told."
Softich said Alex has a similar height and build to her son. They both got a parental waiver to join the military at 17 and were both inspired to do so by 9/11.
She said sometimes parents feel guilty that their children survived the hazards of war when her son did not.
"I don't resent them for that," she said. "They still have life to look forward to, grandchildren. Seeing Alex for me is like being just a little bit closer to my son."
Softich mother and sister planned to join her and her husband for a dinner Thursday night hosted at Swirczek's house to meet the students who worked on the project.
• • •
Softich hopes that by spreading the word about her son's death, she will help to save other lives.
She hopes the military will be more aggressive about offering treatment to service members suffering from the effects of war.
"If he would have lost a leg, they would have fixed him up and he would be a national hero," she said. "His wounds weren't any less real. He was a prisoner of war in his own mind."
She said the military is taking steps to be more responsive, and she's already heard of people who've been discouraged from suicide because of Noah's story.
When she looks at his work on display, she knows his message is spreading.
"I'm proud of my son," she said. "I didn't do this. Noah did this."
Comments
Use the comment form below to begin a discussion about this content.
Sign in to comment