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HCYR Alum, Army Medic Gives Life in Iraq

from the October 2007 Newsletter

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by Gary Priour

On the evening of Wednesday, September 5, a call came to the Youth Ranch office in Ingram that no parent ever wants to get. Javier Paredes, HCYR ’02, had lost his life earlier that day in defense of U. S. efforts to free Iraq. He was 24 years old.

Paredes, an Army Medic, was killed by a rocket-propelled grenade while pulling a wounded soldier from a battle with insurgents in Baghdad. His army brothers, who flew to San Antonio from Iraq for the military funeral, remembered Javier as a hero. Platoon Sergeant Harrison, who worked daily with Paredes, said, "He was my best Medic. Every day he hit home runs for us. On his last day, he hit it out of the park. He was fearless when working to save others."

Lieutenant Hunt, who also worked with Javier, read proclamations from President Bush presenting PFC Paredes with the Purple Heart and Bronze Star, as well as Iraq distinguished service medallions. Said Hunt with obvious emotion, "He was a soldier of great character, brave and dedicated. I personally observed him pulling out wounded from a fight just two days before he was killed."

The military service was conducted by Brigadier General James Gilman, Commanding General of Brooke Army Medical Center. Many military and civilian dignitaries attended, including three Army Generals and S. A. Mayor Phil Hardberger. A horse-drawn hearse and honor guard brought Paredes to his gravesite in the Ft. Sam Houston cemetery, where a tear-filled group of Youth Ranch representatives joined family and friends to say goodbye. An honor guard delivered a 21-gun salute, then a lone soldier played Taps.Dignitaries spoke about Javier’s sacrifice and paid their respects to mourners.

As I observed the solemn ceremonies, it struck me what a high tribute the Army was paying a young man who had so little in life, and how his character had risen to the occasion of his dangerous assignment. Our heroes, I reflected, have often come from such unlikely beginnings.

Javier’s start in life was anything but auspicious. By the age of five he had suffered severe abuse, including cigarette burns all over his body, wounds suffered at the hands of his family. He and his siblings were removed for abuse and neglect from their home in 1990. A 1991 Bexar County court document described the conditions in their home when they were rescued by Child Protective Services. "The home had no water, no heat, no locks, no food, and no plumbing," the report said. To escape those conditions, Javier even spent time as a small child living in a cardboard box beneath a bridge.

After their rescue, Javier and his brother Michael spent seven years between 1991 and 1998 in and out of foster homes throughout Texas, until they finally found a home at the Youth Ranch in February, 1998, where they spent the next five years growing up and going to school. Javier graduated in May 2002 from Ingram Tom Moore High School.

Staff members at the Ranch remember Javier as being intrigued by everything he encountered, and finding joy in the simplest of moments. Despite his deprivation, he was a happy person determined to make something of his life. He remained remarkably innocent for all the abuse he had survived.

When he found his way into the Army and became a medic, he found something that really fit. He loved to help people. Javier was outspokenly proud of his new role in the Army, and was dedicated to his fellow soldiers and the people of Iraq. We are proud that he listed us in Army records as his family, and we are glad he found his meaning in service.

But our Youth Ranch family is profoundly saddened by Javier’s death. He was a person of great character and courage, who cared deeply about others, including his siblings and friends at the Ranch. He was our son, and his loss is immeasurable.

We are deeply aware that the world will never be the same without him, and we are struggling with the paradoxes war evokes. He gave his all to everything he did and became an honored hero despite his humble beginning. Unfortunately, he made the ultimate sacrifice. He had so little in life, but he gave it all up for his country.

Javier is shown top right in his Army uniform in a photo taken earlier this year before his deployment to Iraq. In the background, his graduation photo from 2002 shows the engaging smile remembered by all who knew him. Above left., Javier’s younger brother Michael, now a Marine, stands at attention at the foot of his brother’s casket prior to interment, lingering to pay his final moments of solemn tribute to the person who shared so much of life’s difficult journey with him. Four years younger than Javier, Michael is proud to be a Marine, and a story about his remarkable visit to the Ranch following Javier’s funeral, and what he said to the young people living here now, is told below.

 

On Friday, September 14, Javier came home to Ft. Sam Houston with full military honors, beginning with a procession to his graveside by an honor guard and horse-drawn hearse. The riderless horse passed by as military personnel stood at attention until the fallen hero was laid to rest.

A Marine comes home and pays his respects

by Carol Priour

Recently, staff members from Hill Country Youth Ranch sat on a row near the front of the church at the funeral service of Javier Paredes, a former Youth Ranch resident who had died in Iraq (see story, page 1). Javier was our fallen soldier, our little boy, the one with the smile we wanted to see over and over again through the years. We were his family who had believed in him – the family that stood beside him through the tough teen years.

We came to say goodbye to our Javier, but this day was also about reunion. We came to support Javier’s younger brother, Michael, whom we hadn’t seen in awhile, but had never forgotten. Michael had lived at HCYR, along with Javier, for five years. He had been a child with an unforgettable spirit.

Michael, now a United States Marine, had called us earlier in the week to talk about his brother’s death, but we hadn’t actually seen him since 2003. Would we recognize him? We all wondered what we could say that would bring him comfort but not intrude on his final salute to his older brother, childhood protector and friend.

As the priest delivered Javier’s final mass, we spotted Michael at the back of the chapel, dressed to perfection in his Marine Dress Blues, including spotless white gloves that covered the hands that could someday carry a fellow Marine to safety in these times of turmoil and change. Although we could hardly believe he had grown so tall, we recognized him instantly by his smiling brown eyes. I thought how those eyes had watched the disappearance of so much he had loved . . . and still they sparkled with recognition and gratitude for the presence of those who love him. The humility we had remembered was a trait that Michael had retained past childhood.

Michael spent the weekend with my husband and me at our home in Ingram, and as we all took turns sharing our memories of Javier, we felt God’s healing hands touch each of us in different ways, through different stories and thoughts. Michael smiled timidly as he saw the pride and admiration we felt for the fine young man he has become. He never showed us his tears, though he must have kept those protected somewhere deep inside his heart.

We all miss Javier, and there will always be an empty space on earth to remind us of him, but we intended to comfort Michael and he ended up bringing comfort to us.

In his gentle way he spoke, "I try not to look back at the past, I just concentrate on what is happening now." He reminded us that Javier’s life time on earth, though short, was not wasted.

That Sunday, Michael spoke to the children at Chapel services, telling them to work hard and keep hope strong in their hearts. You could have heard a pin drop.

Michael is in Japan now . . . and, as Marines do, he is guarding freedom for folks he will probably never see. He plans, through his studies and service, to become a better Marine and a better man. I have no doubt that he will achieve both. Our visit with him was too short, but there will be others. We will someday hold his children and smile with a grandparent’s heart.

Michael, this world in which you have come of age is often a harsh world, but for your courage and willingness to enthusiastically take it all on . . . we salute you.

Above, Michael, once a resident of Terry Cabin at HCYR, encourages two of the boys now living there. His presence was commanding and impressive to all. Below, Michael as a 10-year-old boy on the Ranch.