The Summit Project Completes Second Hosted Tribute Trek and Family Weekend to Honor Maine’s Fallen Military Heroes
Bar Harbor, Maine – Four teams of 20 hikers each comprising a total group of eighty hikers from as far away as California and Texas will summit Cadillac Mountain from the north, east, south and west to converge on Acadia National Park’s highest peak as part of The Summit Project, a unique living memorial that honors Maine’s military service members who have died since September 11, 2001. Each hiker will carry to the summit an engraved stone donated by the families and retrieved from significant places of the fallen.
The hikers will be joined by more than 25 Gold Star family members of Maine’s honored fallen for a day of fellowship and remembrance at Thompson’s Island picnic area overlooking the coast of Maine.
Hikers include parents and siblings of Maine’s Fallen Heroes. Many hikers are returning veterans of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan and still other hikers are teachers, small business owners, law enforcement officers and professionals from all industries and from all over Maine. Most hikers were assigned a specific fallen hero they will honor and all hikers have agreed to research their hero learning about their service and sacrifice and upon completion of the hike, each hiker will send letters to the surviving families of the fallen ensuring their loved ones are NOT forgotten. See the great pics below and find MORE great pics here. Very good MEDIA story here.
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Owen D. Casas wrote — I had only gotten three hours of sleep the night before The Summit Project hike of Cadillac Mt. I had stayed up late into the night chatting with a young man who wanted desperately to join the US Marine Corps and by the end of it all we had crafted a plan for him. After putting my kids back in their beds at around 3am I collapsed in mine, wishing that the hike was later on or another day. I tried to make up good excuses in my mind why I couldn’t go, anything that would allow me to close my eyes and sleep. Then I thought of my friend Gunny Ralph DeQuebec who lost both of his legs in Afghanistan from an IED blast and I remembered the faces and names of the three fine young Marines we had lost on my deployment to Fallujah, Iraq. I had sandblasted their names with care on a stone from my yard a few days before, J Pickard, J Tillery and L Yepsen and an eagle, globe and anchor on the back. I thought of the sacrifices all those we have lost have made and especially their families. I knew no type of excuse would suit, I had to climb the mountain. My wife heated up a cup of coffee, made me a sandwich and I was out the door.
All the tiredness vanished when I got to the base camp site on Mount Desert Island. Surrounded by former service members, families and loved ones, there was an air of duty around us and a camaraderie not easily found in the civilian world. Word was passed, papers filed, packs loaded and coffee drank, the only thing left was the hike. My team, Team Blackwood, would have the longest hike, 3.5miles but one that was easily doable with a group like this. Some even hiked with double packs if someone needed a bit of a weight break, but we had a mission to accomplish: We would all make it to the summit with our stones, EVERYONE, there was no question about that. Even with heavy packs and the weather far from desirable I do not recall even one word of complaint. I heard countless “I love this weather”, “Doing just fine” and “Reminds me of the service” but not one whine or negative word. We were on a positive and uplifting mission, one filled with love and memories. That love and memory carried our packs up the mountain far more than our bodies did and before we had time to blink we were at the top.
What happened next I was not prepared for. I knew we would have a ceremony for the fallen, their impact on our lives and the world embodied in those stones that would be placed in the center of our circle, but that impact was powerful far beyond what I expected. We heard from mothers carrying their sons, brothers carrying brothers, friends carrying friends and the one that sent this tough guy into tears: A wife carrying her husband. It was all I could do to not break down completely as I hugged total strangers in the cold driving rain.
But we were not strangers. We all shared a common bond. One of duty, sacrifice, courage, love and remembrance. The Summit Project is a living memorial to these fine fallen service members and around that a community has been built. A community of support and shared grief where the burden of loss is shouldered by all and comfort is extended through our common bond. I am forever grateful to Major David Cote for putting this all together and will always remember this experience.
Semper Memento, Owen D. Casas, former Sergeant in the United States Marine Corps.
Thank you for sharing the incredible hike..as you said we were not strangers..you all are connected…we are blessed
A TSP supporter and mother of one of our TSP at ANP 2014 wrote —
Good afternoon Major Cote, I wanted to take this time to introduce myself. I am xxxxxxx. My son is xxxxxx who will be doing the hike with you on October of this year. As a mother of a soldier I am so proud of my son. I wanted to share with you a little about my son. He is a xxx year old young man who has seen a lot in his short life. He doesn’t talk about his deployment with the Army all I know as a Mom. He returned home different, changed. As hard as I tried I could not reach him. What has always helped me to keep going is my belief in something bigger then us. My Faith that no matter what God is there for my children. xxxxx is very humble man. For the first time since he returned home I heard in his voice when he called me “Hope”. That night you called him you gave this man a gift. I can not put in words how grateful I am that God put you in our lives. You have put something back in my son’s spirit that has been missing for a very long time. God answered a mother’s prayers that night you made the phone call. You changed this young man’s life and I want to thank you for that. I have been disabled for 4 years but if I can help in anyway please contact me. So I am familiar with loss and how it affects the family. Thank you again Major David Cote I just felt the need to let you know how you have changed our family. Many times we don’t realize how we are able to change a persons life. signed.
Scott Stitham, TSP at ANP 2014 hiker, wrote —
Sacrifice.
When I received the e-mail that I wasn’t to hike with a soldier’s stone, but with Spirit Stone Sacrifice I was very honored. Major Cote assigned me it after having read my past letter to Staff Sgt. Brandon Silk’s parents and saw a bond between the word and my journey with TSP.
When preparing for our hike I would repeat the word over and over in my head while carrying extra weight in my ruck or trying to beat my previous time up and down local hills and trails. I started to expand my thoughts on the word to any sacrifice that I had made recently to make the world a better place and then onto what my family may have sacrificed to help me be a better person. When I started thinking about family everything finally “clicked” in my head about our journey up Cadillac Mountain. It was all about family.
I was making a small sacrifice of my time and efforts to help out other families who have lost a member of theirs. Their duty to make our country a better place to live in and keep our freedoms longstanding ended tragically with the greatest sacrifice a person could make. To say I was humbled when I arrived for the hike on Sat morning is putting it lightly.
I met up with Team Bubble early in the morning and was greeted with open arms from some old friends, one of which I hadn’t seen since college, and some I had just met minutes prior. We hiked in the rain and mist all morning and didn’t see the amazing views Acadia has to offer, but we did form a small close knit “family” as we went up. All the time helping each other out and smiling all the while I still ran over the word “sacrifice” in my head over and over like when I had been training. When we got to the top we formed up to place our stones and tell the stories of the honored fallen. The rain picked up, our muscles started to stiffen in the cold, and the emotions ran high.
When it was my turn to speak I opened my mouth and somebody else’s voice came out. I had planned on giving a speech I had rehearsed all month prior, but in an instant it was gone. I looked around and saw the smiling faces of those who had toughed out the miserable morning in the rain and cold with me and knew none of them would have traded it for anything. What I ended up saying was short, but from the heart. We had all sacrificed something to be up there, we all gave 100% of ourselves for a greater cause, and we were all there for strangers. We were all there for people we would never meet and were there for the families waiting at the bottom of the mountain.
The bus ride back to base camp was mostly quiet. Our team had been the first on the mountain and the last off. We were all still absorbing what we had just done and preparing for the day’s true purpose: to meet the families. It was an awe-inspiring day and as I watched the other hikers and families connect I could feel such an amazing sense of family surrounding all of us.
We were there for the sacrifices of others. It wasn’t a solemn day, but a day of celebration. We were celebrating and honoring our brothers and sisters that couldn’t be with us and their families. My sacrifice that day was insignificant in comparison to anything the families have been through and I would do it every weekend, if possible, to let them know somebody is still thinking about them.
Scott Stitham
I didn’t really know what to expect from the day when I set out to hike with The Summit Project at Acadia National Park. On the drive up to Maine, thoughts of the soldiers and all of the people connected to the soldiers we were about to honor ran through my head. I thought of my classmate, Dustin Harris – being his library buddy in grammar school, kickball games at recess, high school soccer… and then hearing the news that April in 2006. I thought of Aaron Henderson, and how although I didn’t really know him myself, I have many friends who knew him well – I felt his loss through their loss.
Looking around at the teams assembling for the hike that morning, I could feel a collective sense of purpose, of determination to do the memory of our soldiers proud, of courage to take up the task of carrying the memory of a family’s loved one and sharing that memory through The Summit Project. As part of Team Blackwood, I was fortunate to be able to hike with Dustin’s mother, Lorna, and his brother, Dylan. I had the opportunity to talk with them both about Dustin and what they do in his memory as part of Wreaths Across America and as a Gold Star Family. During the hike I learned that a bear in Lorna’s pack was given to her by her husband Scott to keep her company on her travels. The bear had been named “Courage” – the same word engraved on the stone I carried in my pack. I like to think that Dustin had a hand in connecting us in that way.
As we hiked, I took moments to reflect on Courage and what it meant to me. I had been doing this ever since finding out I would be hiking with TSP. I had gone over it in my head a million times – what I would say, what I would share. All of that seemed to fall away as I lost myself in the experience of the hike. I wandered up and down our line of hikers. I wanted to know something about everyone on Team Blackwood, and I learned that we had veterans, family members, and friends from near and far. Everyone had a story that personally connected them to TSP and the soldiers we carried with us, and in turn those stories connected us to each other. When we reached the top, my mind was so taken up with absorbing the experience – with hearing everyone’s stories and learning about the soldiers we were honoring – that as my turn neared, I blanked. Everything I had so carefully though of on the hike was gone, so I spoke from the heart. It may have been short, and it may not have been full of well crafted, pretty words, but sometimes the things most worth saying are short and sweet. Every soldier has great courage to face the unknown – to enlist even knowing they may pay the ultimate price for all of us. Every family has great courage to endure the loss of a loved one and carry on their memory. I believe it even takes courage to take up a TSP stone and the honor of doing the memory of that soldier proud.
I renewed and made new connections that day on Cadillac Mountain that I know will last a life-time. Writing this now makes me realize how the connections we were making with each other through our shared losses serve as their own kind of living memorial for Maine’s fallen heroes. It makes me think that somewhere they are all proud of each of us for carrying each other just as we carry their stones. MHANF
How do we challenge the living to remember the fallen Heroes? Climbing to new heights on Mountains that loom above us is how The Summit Project embraces that challenge.
I concentrated on the challenge that loomed above that special young soldier, Capt. Jay Brainard when he chose to enter the Army as an Apache helicopter pilot. Challenges that required a clear mind, an adventurous spirit, and the courage that I could never imagine… how could I compare his courage to face death in a hostile country to my small token of courage to climb a mountain in the safety of my beautiful State of Maine. I know I desire to show my sincere appreciation to this wonderful American, but how can I? It’s taken me some extended thought to come to the realization that this project doesn’t ever expect us to climb in safety and feel their courage. I believe the project challenges us to face the families of the fallen and live the promise that we will never forget the sacrifice of the fallen and the families. That the climb is but the vehicle that brings strangers together to publicly proclaim to the world that each soldier’s life matters and that the ultimate sacrifice each hero made for us is appreciated.
For me, courage comes in the ability to look into the faces of the families who lost a special member. These families live each day with a hole in their chest where their heart once resided, now symbolically replaced with a stone carved with initials and dates. The date is the moment their world change forever and their challenge began. To face each moment, each day, and all the strangers who want to console them in their inconsolable situation must require strength that I cannot imagine because I haven’t had to live that. I was truly honored to carry the stone of Capt. Jay because his courage became my courage when I faced his family and pledged my living presence to speak his name and tell his story. I was compelled to connect with those on my team as we climbed to say “let me tell you about this fine brave man whose stone I humbly carry”
Thank you Whitey and Nancy, for your courage and conviction to be part of this living memorial. Thank you for your kindness to me and the connection we have made. Your Jay will forever be in my heart and on my mind. I pledge to continue to tell people I meet about your fine American Hero.