Jared Southworth of Oakland, Illinois

I looked around the Internet to learn a little about First Lieutenant Southworth. His church created a forum for friends to leave comments and that is where I found the banner I used at the top of this page. I used “street view” of Google maps to see the church that Jared Southworth attended.

Jared died in the same IED explosion as Jason Burkholder. They were both Illinois National Guard but Jason was from Ohio. So, after his memorial service in Illinois a week ago, Jason’s remains were escorted across two states to take him back home. Jared’s remains arrived just a few days ago and yesterday my grandson and I attended his funeral in Oakland, Illinois, population 1000.

We looked at the big tractor the Oakland Case dealer displayed near Route 133. It wasn’t there when I looked with Google street-view.

Then we ventured into town. Kevin identified Jared’s church from the Google image. I had not seen the Afghanistan War Memorial directly across the street until we were standing in the town square. It was placed there by the Oakland VFW.

In the center of the square, but only a stone’s throw from his church, was a grand memorial to the soldiers and sailors of World War One.

As the Great Powers of Europe began that war nearly a century ago, our army of less than 200 thousand was stationed across our country. We rose to the threat. By the summer of 1918 we had sent 1.5 million troops to Europe and changed the course of the war.

The plan for 100 American army divisions to lead an attack in 1919 drove the parties to Versailles.

I didn’t count the many names inscribed on the pedestal from that long-ago war. The current war produced the names of five soldiers celebrated on five signs posted on five lamp-posts around the square. Five brave souls from this town of one thousand. Five good, strong names. Caleb. Kayleb. Jacob. Will.

And Jared.

This stream is called the Hog Branch. It flows from east to west across the north side of Oakland. If you follow it for a little more than a mile, you will find that it contributes to the Embarras River, pronounced EM-brah.

The Em-brah flows south to the Wabash River which flows to the Ohio which flows to the Mississippi which flows to all the oceans of the world. That is the way that the waters of Hog Branch reach the shores of distant countries.

But Jared saw no need to wander far. The home of his parents is just a block from the Oakland schools. He later attended Eastern, just 17 miles away. He married and had children and lived in the house next door to his parents. He worked in Oakland.

An now he is buried on Oakland. His parents, wife and children have only a few blocks to walk to visit him. The Hog Branch runs through the trees just beyond his grave.

Jared felt no urge to leave, but he was bigger than his hometown. He earned an officer’s commission and then he earned the Ranger tab. He followed his orders to a place in Afghanistan that is as far from his home as he could go without leaving Earth. His devotion to duty resulted in his death in that far-away place.

Twenty years ago, Jared looked up from the grass of his hometown square and saw this:

I didn’t know him. I enjoy the benefit of his sacrifice without sharing in the sense of loss that must burden his family. I don’t imagine that I can truly share their loss but I hope they know that many of us appreciate his, and their, sacrifice.

So Kevin and I got back in the car and drove the few blocks to the funeral site. Patriot Guard leadership was there, coordinating with the army and the funeral home.

We drove back to the staging area to wait. Kevin had brought photos of our fallen hero which he happily distributed.

Jim returned from the gymnasium and briefed us.

And then we paraded to the gym as a group.

We stood in respectful silence as the other guests filed past us and then we were seated in the rear.

The gym was full. At the end of the service we all would file past Jared. Patriot Guard was the first to approach and by a fluke of seating, Kevin and I were the first two Patriot Guard Riders. We walked down the side aisle, across the front, turned and faced the flag-draped casket. Kevin gave his two-finger Cub Scout salute and I placed my hand over my heart. Then we turned and walked up the center aisle and out of the gym.

We had a long drive back home so we would not stay for the burial. As we walked around the gym we followed a long line of police cars, one that traveled nearly as far as we had.

Jared was a great soldier and he also patroled his hometown-of-less-than-a-thousand as a police officer. Like so many of the fallen heroes I have come to know, he served twice – as both soldier and policeman. Officers Walsh and Aguilar wore an 82^nd Division pin and an army lapel pin, respectively.

We left the gym. As we passed the cemetery we saw the VFW waiting there to welcome Jared to his final resting place. I stopped to get portraits.

We left the town. Kevin wanted to talk about the big tractor. I didn’t want to talk about anything. We stopped in the deli Denny’s in Tuscola. Then we talked about the tractor.

And we talked about Jared and the many policemen, firemen, soldiers and neighbors who crowded into that gymnasium. I hope the family remembers that too.

Kevin and I will, and so will many others. A very few of those are pictured below, PGR on the left, VFW on the right: