A Symbol of Duty and Love
by Levi J. Long 
The Navajo Times 
09 January 2004
   

TUBA CITY - She became a symbol and hero to thousands of people around the world. People who remember her recall a smile and a contagious laugh.

And to many more the story of the late Spc. Lori Piestewa remains one of hope, courage and ultimately inspiration.

This year the Navajo Times news staff chose to honor Piestewa, a Hopi-Latina mother of Brandon, 5, and Carla, 3, and an American soldier, as the person of the year.

"It's amazing to see how many people have been touched by Lori," said Percy Piestewa, mother of the fallen soldier, in an interview at the Piestewa home on Sunday.

Lori's father, Terry Piestewa, added that in Native American communities in particular Lori's story touched a chord.

"We know throughout Indian country that people see her as one of their own," Terry Piestewa said, as evidenced by the many memorials and ceremonies the family has attended since Lori's passing in March.

"Native people have an awesome way of honoring those who've passed on," Percy Piestewa said. "They're so sensitive, so caring, so loving.

You feel that power with indigenous people."

The decision to deploy

When the war on terrorism was declared, Lori Piestewa, 23, like thousands of other Native Americans around the country, answered the call.

But unlike other troops in the Army, Lori was different because she was a mother of two and she was older than most of the others in the 507th maintenance company.

The soldiers in the company also saw Piestewa as a leader.

"She took up that role of being a role model in the 507th," Percy Piestewa said. "She always had to be a role model, I guess because they all felt that she was older than they were."

Percy Piestewa said her daughter also found strength in Pfc. Jessica Lynch, her roommate and best friend, who in her autobiography "I Am a Soldier, Too" calls Lori her friend and protector.

"She always looked up to Lori and grew to depend on her," Percy Piestewa said.

She said the pair became close friends while they were stationed at Fort Bliss, Texas and made a pact to protect each other at all costs, including going to war for each other.

And then word came in January 2003 that the 507th was to be deployed to Iraq at the end of February. During that time, Percy Piestewa said Lori could have stayed home because she received a medical pass due a shoulder injury.

"She didn't have to go but she didn't want to be left behind," Percy Piestewa said.

She said during the year that Lori had been with her troops, the 507th had become a family.

The decision to leave was tough for Lori considering that she had her children to look after, Percy Piestewa said.

"I asked her, 'Are you sure?' And she said that's what she wanted to do," Percy Piestewa said.

Overall Percy Piestewa said Lori's sense of duty was strong when it came to both her children and the troops.

"She knew the children would be well cared for," Percy Piestewa said, and added that she thought it a great honor to take care of Brandon and Carla.

During the weeks leading up to the deployment, the Piestewa's made a nine-hour trip one way to Fort Bliss, Texas to visit Lori and Lynch. "But each trip was worth it," Percy Piestewa said.

War hits home

According to news reports, on March 23, 2003, four days after the war began, the 507th was ambushed near the Iraqi city of Nasiriyah. The company had been part of a convoy heading north. Lori was driving a Humvee carrying an officer of the unit.

Lori drove to the front of the convoy so the first sergeant could confer with the unit's captain. The captain's driver offered to switch places with Lori but she said she wanted to stick with her mission and drove back to the rear - and into the heart of an explosive battle.

According to news reports, Lynch said Lori navigated through gunfire and debris, circling around twice to help soldiers in crippled vehicles before a rocket-propelled grenade hit her Humvee.

The RPG exploded on the driver's side, forcing the Humvee to swerve into a 5-ton tractor-trailer, killing three soldiers. Lori and Lynch were badly injured but were alive. They were captured and taken to an Iraqi hospital.

A few weeks later, U.S. soldiers attempted to free POWs at the hospital and it was learned that Lori, whose injuries were grave, and several others in her company did not survive.

The news hit hard and close to home. The Navajo Nation and all of Indian country prayed and held vigils, hoping for the best.

Outpouring of support

During the weeks Lori was missing, an outpouring of support came from Tuba City, with candlelight vigils and round-the-clock rallies for the Piestewa family.

The Piestewa's received thousands of messages from around the world, with letters from Native Americans, U.S. troops, and the American public.

The Navajo Times was also deluged with letters and e-mail from around the world, many asking where they could donate for the family but most expressing grief for a person they felt they had come to know.

After Lori's death was confirmed, thousands mourned. She was believed to be the first Native American woman to die in combat in a modern U.S. conflict.

Her passing didn't go unnoticed in Arizona.

In April, Arizona Gov. Janet Napolitano introduced legislation to rename Squaw Peak in Phoenix Piestewa Peak.

The Arizona State Board on Geographic and Historic Names waived its five-year waiting period and approved the change by a 5-1 vote before a cheering crowd and after a four-hour hearing. The board sided with supporters who said the word "squaw" is offensive and that the peak should be renamed after Lori.

A lesson of love

For the Piestewa family, their grief today remains fresh. But in the 10 months since learning of her death, the Piestewa's said that they've learned an incredible lesson of love.

"Lori will always be here with us. It's hard to live down what's happened...we know the trail we're on will be a long and hard one...but God gave us a gift. She gave us a gift," Percy Piestewa, motioning towards Brandon and Carla.

The children's' father, Bill Whiterock, maintains close ties with them. During the interview Sunday, the children played, running from room to room, and Carla often ran to her grandmother's side for hugs and then jumped off the couch onto the living room carpet.

"Lori's here with us. We've been left with the blessing of her," Terri Piestewa said. "You can see that in them. She's here and she left that behind with her babies. It's neat to see that Lori lives through the kids."

Percy Piestewa pointed to family photos lining the walls showing Lori at different years of her life. The resemblance is uncanny between Lori and her daughter Carla.

"You see this," Percy Piestewa said and pointed to Carla. "It's just like Lori...jumping off the couch. Carla and Lori were the same. Sometimes we feel like we have a second chance...another Lori to raise."

For the Piestewa's, one of the lessons they've learned from their ordeal is not to be afraid to show love.

"You have to see that love is all around. It's how we run our lives and ourselves," Percy Piestewa said. "We just want people to heal. Its also evident in the show of love we have received from the hearts of those who have given to our family. We are deeply in debted to you who have shown their love and kindness. Thank you. We love you."

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Reprinted as an historical reference document under the Fair Use doctrine of international copyright law. http://www4.law.cornell.edu/uscode/17/107.html