Veteran’s
Day caught me by surprise. I have grown accustomed to holidays that
stick to Monday like gorilla glue. Or, in this case, perhaps,
glue.
him
popped up in my mental viewing screen, shyly at first and later
effervescently showering him with hugs and his treasured lipstick marks
and even the conspiratorially conveyed gift or two. She’s also a
veteran. She recently ended a 25 year career in the U. S. Army where she
learned to look after some of the nation’s most prestigious and highly
valued assets. Look at that picture--she's still doing so.
That
led me to smack myself on the forehead: One of the most impressive
personalities I discovered in delving into the wretched year of the
Serial Shooter is, yes, a veteran. Phoenix Homicide Detective Cliff
Jewell worked unflinchingly in scruffy corridors, bloody alleys, and
sooty sheds seeing patterns where no one else did. He started his law
enforcement career in the U.S. Air Force. The instincts honed there
helped stop the killing here.
I hadn't finished considering Cliff
Jewell's dramatic adventures in Southeast Asia when my thoughts veered
forward to spring 2011 when my next work will be published. For that
story, I interviewed a young man, William Coss, who outwitted a rampaging murderer and
handed police an airtight case instead of what they otherwise would have
found, an inscrutable and probably unsolvable double murder. Coss told me
it was his U.S. Army training that kicked in, keeping him one step
ahead of his pursuer, surviving to lead the emergency responders safely
in till the bullets stopped.
That’s when I gave up trying to make
a list of all the veterans who personally affected me this year. It’s
clear there are too many, they are everywhere, past, present and future.
Veterans not only serve us on foreign shores but they bring back skills
and fortitude that benefit our home communities daily right here inside
the comfy borders of the U.S. of A.
After he found us and I got
to witness his reunion with Paul, I was very excited to ask Saul
Guerrero to join me at a book signing event at a national chain book
store. I was exuberant at the thought of him signing his first
autographs. I encouraged him to wear his wonderful uniform with all the
decorations, red, yellow, blue, white, on the jacket.
 |
| Camille Kimball listening to Saul Guerrero, pic of Paul Patrick showing scar on screen. |
As we were
setting up the chairs and projector that night in the store, a browser
in the stacks of books started tossing comments at Saul. At first, busy
as I was, I couldn’t hear the comments properly. I saw Saul smiling so I
was happy--perhaps he was getting his first much-deserved admirer from
amongst the book reading crowd. But in moments I saw the store manager
approach and intervene.
Soon she was shouting at the customer and
ordering him out of the store. Saul was still smiling, while the store
manager was incensed and I was both astonished and aghast. Far from fan
accolades, the customer had actually been
heckling
my guy in uniform, a true action hero if ever there was one. The
customer was anti-military or anti-war or anti-Obama or anti-Bush and
took the opportunity to fling his sarcasm and smug opinions at a man in
uniform who happened to cross his path.
“You don’t even know what he’s here for,” screamed the manager in Saul’s defense, “just get out!”
But
there was Saul, still smiling happily and making friendly gestures to
his heckler. The heckler stormed off into the dark desert night. I
don’t know if it was the manager’s raised fist or if it was Saul’s
cheerful grace that shamed him out into the shadows.
For Saul
turned to me and merrily continued sharing his philosophy, “I love it,”
he said, “This is what I fought for. This is America. We all get to
have our opinions. We all get to speak up whenever we want. I LOVE it!”
I
peered at him carefully. Was he being extraordinarily affable in order
to get through an awkward situation where he was a guest?
No. His
eyes were twinkling. Saul meant it. These were the authentic
outpourings of his own heart, his own American opinion, his own
soldier’s soul.
We did our presentation, went through the slides
and I loved hearing Saul’s commentary on the events of June 8, 2006,
when he cradled a dying man’s head and brought him back to life. It was
time to pack up, tuck the crime scene tape away, fold the chairs.
Another book browser stepped into view from behind a book rack. He
walked a little past us but kept throwing glances back at Saul. Just as I
was shaking Saul’s hand good-bye--I’m telling you, I did not make this
up--and he was visibly leaving, the book buyer approached.
I
quickly told the man of Saul’s role in the true story of A Sudden Shot:
The Phoenix Serial Shooter. The shopper took the book in his hands,
hefted it, then clapped Saul on his decorated soldier shoulder.
 |
| Saul and a European admirer of U.S. soldiers |
“I
buy this book, “ he said in a soft European accent, perhaps from the
Low Countries, perhaps from a larger neighbor, “not for the story but
for you. I buy this book to honor you.”
Beaming like a doting mother--or a proud patriot--I handed Saul a pen and watched him sign his name in the title page.
The
experience I’ve had in watching veterans at work in their community
through their service to the Serial Shooter investigation, the trial, or
even the dangerous emergencies on their doorstep make Arthur Ashe’s
words resonate deeply. They bear repeating.
“True
heroism is remarkably sober, very undramatic. It is not the urge to
surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve others at
whatever cost.” – Arthur Ashe
Thank you, veterans, from a grateful citizen.
(click on a title below to buy)
Coming soon: Masters of True Crime-Chilling Stories of Murder and the Macabre
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