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In Fond Memory Mr. Jack Armstrong A Fallen Friend, Slain by Terrorists in Baghdad, Iraq JACK ARMSTRONG was brutally murdered in Iraq September 20, 2004, beheaded. An acquaintance who saw the video of Jack's death said it was one of the most terrible films he had ever seen, especially given it lasted many minutes. The Islamic world appears to be slowly awakening to the reality of this horror show -- Jack certainly hasn't been the only victim of criminals who have hijacked the mantle of the Islamic faith, the Prophet, and Allah. It's early days in that awakening, but Saudi Arabia's leading cleric, a man regarded as one of the world's leading scholars on the Koran, as come out against such violence, specifically condemning other brutal beheadings by terrorists who cloak their terrible agendas in the cloth of religious faith. Other members of the intelligentsia and leading clerical lights have spoken against these instances of barbarism. In an awful irony, just this morning -- Sunday, October 3, 2004 -- there's news of yet another beheading, this time of an Iraqi contractor doing contract work in conjunction with the U.S. armed forces; his murderers are reported to have called him "a mad traitor" in the video the killers took of the poor devil's death. But I want to move beyond that. I keep focusing on the prepared comments my most excellent friend, Khun James, made at the celebratory memorial we held at The Silver Dollar Bar Saturday, September 25th. James central idea was to follow the Buddhist precept of letting go of desire to find release from pain. In this case, that means letting go of the desire to see Jack again, coupled with letting go of the desire for hateful revenge. Surprisingly quickly, I'm accepting the former; the latter remains problematic, but the day will come when I can let that go, too. Today is the first time since Jack's death I've been able to think about him -- never mind write about him -- without at least getting watery eyes. As I've written before, it would be untrue to claim I was in Jack's innermost circle of friends. But I very much was at the top of the second level of his Bangkok-based friends. To the best of my knowledge, Jack was one of the nicest, most decent guys to ever walk the earth. More important than my . . . how do I put it? "Scientific knowledge"? . . . well, whatever, more important than any hard data is my gut feeling. And my gut reacted entirely positively right from the start of my friendship with Jack a decade ago. I remember, with fondness, the next-to-last time I saw Jack earlier this year. I walked into New Square One Pub in Washington Square, entering from brilliant sunlight, so my eyes weren't immediately adjusted to the relatively dim interior. Jack was there, the only other customer, and he saw me before I could see anything, and roared out something along the lines of "Hey, you fat so-and-so -- get over here and let me buy you a drink!" I recognized his voice instantly, and unaware to that moment of his return on home leave from his Iraq posting, I was positively delighted. Both that time and the last time I saw Jack -- the last time was in The Texas Lone Staar, also in Washington Square -- he freely stated the money he was earning was good. But a more fundamental reason for his return both times to that unfortunate and perilous land had far more to do with his fundamental bedrock of humanitarianism, his basic human decency, than it did with mere money. I pointed out a man with his background and broad skills surely could seek and find work elsewhere, in a safer place, and his comment was, "Right or wrong, our country is occupying Iraq, and the Iraqi people deserve our best. What my company is doing is help to rebuild hospitals, schools, and so on." Jack always wore a smile; if I ever saw him angry, the memory has fled completely. Jack left behind a wonderful wife, his Mother, other relatives, and scores of friends. Jack, in honor of your memory, I will continue striving to achieve the second half of what I know you would want me to do and let go of my desire for revenge. I pray your soul is at peace and that you are in a better place. Goodbye, Dear Friend . . . Written October 3, 2004 * * * * * * * * * * |
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Copyright © 1997, 1998, 1999, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, and 2008 by Kurt T. Francis, except as noted otherwise. Materials by Christopher G. Moore, Dean Barrett, Richard K. Diran, Sonia Pressman Fuentes, and Hardy Stockmann are copyrighted © by those respective authors. All rights reserved. Please see the Copyright Notice for further information. Click here for our Privacy Statement Please direct all inquiries to MekhongKurt [at] BangkokAtoZ.com
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