We Remember Our community comes together to remember
Army Staff Sgt. Dustin Wright–son, brother, friend, hero
A friend from out of town called
me to chat and asked me about
a post on Facebook regarding
the passing of a local soldier.
The name of the soldier was
not included in the post, and we both
wondered who it could be. A few
hours later, she called me back. As
you get older, memories from years
ago sometime come back like 8mm
films – just vague flickers of places
and faces. “It’s Dustin Wright, Ardie
Wright’s son,” my friend said. Cue
the 8mm.
For a brief time, back in the early
90s, Ardie shared an office space with
us, and he would occasionally bring
his boys in with him. At the words
“…Dustin Wright,” the film in my
head immediately started to roll, and
I remembered Ardie bringing these
little boys in that were full of piss
and vinegar, as my dad used to say. I
remembered trying to entertain them
while Ardie got some work done, and
I remembered how stinking cute they
were, but I didn’t specifically know
which one Dustin was, and I hate
that.
I immediately called my husband
to break the news, and he and I
lamented on how horribly sad it
was. Karl told me about running into
Dustin at the gym, how hard he had
worked, how proud he was of being
in the military, and what a genuinely
nice and intelligent young man he
had turned out to be. We were both
heartbroken.
Over the course of the next days,
I would scroll through Facebook and
see the posts about our hometown
soldier multiply exponentially: He
was my nephew. He was my brother.
He was my cousin. He was my
grandson. He was my son. He was
my boyfriend. He was my friend. He
is a hero. This cannot be real. Profile
pictures changed to a grainy photo
of Dustin with sunglasses and a smile
that encompassed his entire face.
60 Toombs County Magazine
BY
ANN OWENS