Melissa Givens sits with her two sons, 8-year-old Carson and 14-year-old Dakota, inside her home Sept. 6, in Fountain, Colo. Her husband, Jesse Givens, is the first Fort Carson soldier killed in combat after 9/11. He drowned in Iraq May 1, 2003, as his Abrams battle tank burrowed into the Euphrates River. Jesse Givens enlisted to fight terrorism and protect American families, she said. Photo by Dustin Senger |
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FORT CARSON, Colo. (9/8/2011) — "That's a hamburger at
Disney World," said Melissa Givens, while auctioning her
children's toys and clothes online, a week prior to the 10th
anniversary of 9/11.
For seven years, she has sold
the past year's novelties to fund family vacations to Disney
World, a trip Jesse Givens promised before heading to combat
in 2003.
Ten years ago, Melissa Givens was watching
her husband weep in front of their television.
Jesse
Givens of Springfield, Mo., saw beyond the debris on Sept.
11, 2001, when a terrorist plot collapsed more than 200
floors of the World Trade Center in New York. He felt pain
for the nearly 3,000 families instantly torn apart by a
loved one's death and the fear rooted into countless others,
she said.
He wished for a way to quickly deploy his
welding skills to the landmark twin towers. He dreamed of
finding fathers and mothers, sons and daughters, surviving
amid the tangles of 200,000 tons of steel. But the couple
had few resources for such a remote act of benevolence. |
 Melissa Givens noticed her husband's hardening
patriotism and deepening desire to restore a sense of
security in his homeland.
Jesse Givens suggested that
terrorists must be fought overseas to prevent future strikes
from killing American families — "to protect normal,
everyday people," she said.
He enlisted in the Army
and left for basic combat training in January 2002.
"I hope someday you will understand why I didn't come home,"
said Pfc. Jesse Givens, 2nd Squadron, 3rd Armored Cavalry
Regiment, in a farewell message to his 5-year-old son,
Dakota, dated April 22, 2003. He wrote several similar
letters from Iraq, unsure if he'd survive ongoing
engagements against enemy insurgents.
"Bean," he
said, addressing his unborn baby boy, who he'd only known as
a spot on an ultrasound image, "I never got to see you but I
know you're beautiful ... I will always have with me the feel
of the soft nudges on your mom's belly, and the joy I felt
when we found out you were on the way."
On May 1,
2003, Jesse Givens, 34, drowned in Iraq, trapped inside an
Abrams battle tank, according to Army reports. Everyone
escaped except the driver, whose hatch was blocked by the
turret. The other soldiers slid a series of gas mask air
tubes inside the compartment, said Melissa Givens. He tugged
a couple of times.
Jesse Givens became Fort Carson's
first combat casualty for an era of post-9/11 war fighters.
Since then, 324 other soldiers from the Mountain Post have
died of a combat injury, according to post officials.
"He was the first Fort Carson soldier to be killed —
they didn't know what to do," said Melissa Givens. "I felt
like a guinea pig ... but somebody has to go through it first
to iron it out. My Army family hasn't let me down." She
helped Fort Carson family readiness groups build better
programs for the survivors of combat causalities.
Melissa Givens endured a roller coaster of emotions
following her husband's death. The 27-year-old widow felt
numb the first year, overtaken by anger, anxiety,
hopelessness and depression. She questioned her sanity while
typing online memoirs to her dead husband. She thought,
somehow, he could read them.
The early rush of
emotions caused her to lose track of time, as she swept away
selfish and unstable tendencies. She accepted her husband's
military awards and fought for her children's benefits. She
projected an image of resiliency to ease her friends. She
had to stay pregnant, she said.
Melissa Givens
considered the pregnancy her husband's final gift. Carson
was born 28 days after his death; three days after Memorial
Day. Year two was hard, but a strong-minded Army wife helped
her through it.
"Year three was OK," said Melissa
Givens, "but year four was messed up again." She sought
medical care for depression at Fort Carson by visiting Evans
Army Community Hospital. Her closest friend had voiced
concerns about long rests, ongoing heartaches and eccentric
mannerisms.
A doctor prescribed an anti�depressant or
mood stabilizer — she cannot recall the name of the pills,
only the relief she felt by flushing them down the toilet
two days later.
"I realized it's not a condition —
he's dead," she said. "It's not a chemical imbalance, he's
dead. Eventually I'd have to come off the medication and
he's still going to be dead." She began holding "breakup
rituals" to create closure. She recalls tearing up
photographs, screaming and cursing. She "divorced" him.
"The grief doesn't ever heal. I still feel broken ... I
feel scabbed over. The wound is still there but it's not as
fresh. It doesn't have all the pain.
“I will always
love him. I haven't moved on but I've moved forward." The
seventh year "finally felt OK," as birthdays and holidays
became less dampened by emotional downturns.
"I am
not just Missy anymore. I am the widow of a hero," she said.
Exactly eight years after her hero died in Iraq, her cell
phone began buzzing with messages asking "Are you going to
be OK?" They increased as news circulated that Osama Bin
Laden, the mastermind behind 9/11, had been killed by Navy
SEALs in Pakistan.
"The bad guy had been dealt with
on the anniversary of Jesse's death. I know there will be
more but that was the one that caused 9/11.
"Jesse
had gotten what he joined (the Army) for," she said. "He
wanted to protect kids from the bad guys, so they cannot
come over here and blow up schools and kill our children. He
didn't want anyone's kids living in fear of this happening
again.
"Each year is a constant merry-go-round," she
said, referring to 8-year-old Carson and 14-year-old Dakota,
who continue to revisit the loss of their father with a more
matured perspective. When their cyclic grieving process
ends, she's hoping they step onto stable ground, as
well-adjusted young men.
"We have a rule in our
house. You can tell me beforehand that you're mad about dad,
but you cannot use it as an excuse to hit things or act
out." Dakota harbors bitterness, a result of feeling
pressured to grow up too fast.
"He became the man of
my house — I wanted him to be a little boy. He got his
childhood crumpled up and thrown in the trash — it wasn't
fair to him."
"I will always be there with you," said
Jesse Givens in his final letter to his family. "I'll be in
the sun, shadows, dreams and joys of your life. Please be
proud of me. Please don't stop loving life.
"Don't
forget to take (Dakota) to Disney World. I will be there
with you."
By Dustin Senger
Fort Carson Public Affairs Office
Provided
through DVIDS
Copyright 2011
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