Letters for Logan is the heartfelt story of a mother's timeless love for her son, and the legacy she is compelled to leave her grandson. Air Force Capt. Derek Argel, 28, was larger-than-life-athletic, loving, dedicated, loyal and above all, a son to Debbie, husband to Wendy and father to Logan. Within days of his tragic death in the line of duty on Memorial Day of 2005 in Iraq, the first letter to Logan arrived. Then another came, and they kept coming, from friends, colleagues, warriors and family. They still arrive, even years after the Combat Controller's death, each one weaving an enduring portrait for a little boy of his fallen father, gone too soon. Proceeds from this book will go to the Special Operations Warrior Foundation, rated as a four-star charity by Charity Navigator. The foundation provides full scholarship grants, educational and family counseling to the surviving children of special operations personnel who die in operational or training missions, and immediate financial assistance to severely wounded special operations personnel and their families. The family of Capt. Derek Argel believes wholeheartedly in the mission of the foundation. "First there, That Others may Live" Nora Wallace

Letters For Logan

A Legacy in Letters of the Determination, Drive and Heart of Capt. Derek ArgelBy Deb Argel-Bastian

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2012 Deb Argel-Bastian
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4772-1329-2

Chapter One

Dear Logan,

It has been said that when we are adults, we will be able to count our true friends on one hand. This was not the case with your father. In fact, I can't begin to count the people that he was proud to call his friends. He knew he could count on them, and they could count on him. He listened intently to people and to what they were saying. He cared when he listened. He took the time for his friends and family. He earned their respect, and they earned his. His word and his handshake were his contract, and to his friends a binding and understanding relationship. His departure from this earth to heaven had a step effect that I could never imagine. Some of the friends that wrote these letters, he trusted his life to. They trusted their lives to him.

It would be impossible to include all of the letters, notes and stories we received about him. There are hundreds. This book can only offer a short glimpse or a snapshot into his life and those he touched. In fact, when you read some of these you will understand that he is still touching our lives and has made a difference in the lives of so many.

These letters really began with two people. Your Dad's lifelong friend had already begun a web page on Memorial Day of 2005. People were able to share their thoughts and some letters on that page. At the memorial service in Florida, your uncle (Big John) had three envelopes containing letters. There was one for me, one for your mother and one for you.

If I could tell you just one special thing about your dad, it would be that he was wise beyond his years. If he was sick, he would not take anything for the pain. He said he should experience that pain and know what it was like. He didn't want to take even that moment from his life. He said he wanted to know both pain and joy and that would help make him who he was to become. I didn't know what that meant then, but I know now.

The greatest gift that your Dad's friends could have given are these stories. They of course belong to you. You will get all of them just as they were written when it is time. In this book, I have only used call names of your Dad's team mates, or first names only.

Because there are so many children that have lost their parents to the recent wars, we hope it will be helpful to other parents, children, friends, relatives. Hopefully, sharing the story of your Dad, will encourage others to write down memories of their own for other families who have lost a loved one. Your dad would want that if it would help in any way. He would be forever thankful to those that took the time to write them to you. I can only share with you how I felt and feel about the loss of my son here on the earth. I can't speak to, or compare anyone else's loss or the impact your Dad had on their lives. This is the beauty of those stories that are shared. These are the stories that bring joy and comfort to us.

In this book you will be able to see part of the journey of your Dad's struggles and achievements to attain his personal and military goals.

I hope in some way that sharing these memories brings the joy of his life to many, the strength of your mother to all, and the comfort of knowing that your Dad loved you and all that he called friends.

Thank you for sharing your stories Logan. Love, Oma May 30, 2012

It was a beautiful morning. It so happened that the "holiday" of Memorial Day this year just happened to fall on the real Memorial Day. The date was and always will be to our family, the real day. It was also the actual Memorial Day, May 30 that Derek graduated in 2001 from the Air Force Academy. Congress changed the observance day to allow for a three day holiday, a long weekend for people to enjoy picnics, beach trips and other activities. The meaning of the day had become overshadowed over the years. Derek always wanted to attend the services at the Lompoc cemetery and help do his part by putting the flags out. He said, "It was the right thing to do."

We didn't attend the services that morning. In Santa Barbara your grandfather Todd's family was having a breakfast get together, followed by a trip to the Santa Barbara Mission for the Italian Chalk Festival. I charged my phone the night before, hoping I might hear from Derek as it was Memorial Day. He had emailed me a few days before just to say he would be out of touch for some time. At the festival, I stood in awe for some time looking at a beautifully detailed American flag and complimented the artist. For some reason, my eyes began to blur and tear up. I thought of Derek and so many that were away today and so far from home and away from these colors they loved and fought for. I asked Todd if we could leave and go visit his dad. Todd and his dad Hobart, routinely enjoyed cigars and martinis by the pool, and our conversations there were lively, covering all topics. It was peaceful and happy as usual. One hour later, our lives would change forever.

In Ft. Walton Beach, Florida, your mother was out doing a few errands. She had just finished typing an email to your Dad. At the top she wrote, "Memorial Day." Your grandmother Jane was at the house with you, when The Air Force personnel came to the door. Jane called your mother and asked her to come back home right away. Because your grandfather Mike was a retired Air Force Colonel, they both knew in their hearts this was not a social call.

Sitting at the pool in Santa Barbara, I had chosen the chair nearest the back door at the patio. For some reason, to this day I always choose that chair. My cell phone rang. Sarcastically, I answered, "Happy Memorial Day." It was in bad taste and I knew it. I wanted to withdraw the words as soon as I said them. Derek and I always found the "Happy Memorial Day" signs at local businesses in very poor taste. It was a further reminder that people had forgotten the meaning of that day. I heard your mother's voice on the other end. I was surprised and thought she might be calling to tell me Derek was on the way home or already there. Her voice was steady on the other end. I will never forget the conversation. As Todd and Hobart were engaged in conversation, I put my finger over my free ear to clearly listen to her voice.

"Are you ready for this?", she asked. "Derek's plane has gone down in Iraq." She said she didn't know much more than that they had the site surrounded, and they were looking for someone else. She said they were waiting for confirmation, and she would call me back in about 30 minutes. She told me there were five aboard a small Iraqi plane. In my confusion, I told her that didn't make any sense. What was Derek doing in Iraq? Why was he on an Iraqi plane? Who had the site surrounded?

I hung up the phone and waited for what seemed like an eternity for the call back. I explained to Hobart and Todd what had happened. I asked for another martini while I waited, and even though I was wearing a patch to quit smoking, I asked for cigarettes. Both men tried their best to keep me calm. They said Derek was trained for these things, that he must have jumped or something. My worst thoughts were whispered out loud, "They are not looking for anyone living, these guys don't leave each other."

The phone rang again and your mother said in a soft voice, "It is confirmed." I replied "NO, Wendy." As I tried to get up, I collapsed. Todd caught me and I went into the house to sit down. I remember repeating...