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LCpl. Alex Arredondo (KIA)
(reprinted from the Boston Globe, September 5, 2004)
When word came 10 days ago that Lance Corporal Alex Arredondo had been killed in Iraq, his father climbed inside the Marine van that brought the awful news and set it afire, an act of grief that was instantly broadcast around the world.
Yesterday the Arredondo family's grief took a quieter but no less powerful form, as hundreds of people gathered to mourn the 20-year-old Marine at a funeral Mass in St. Thomas Aquinas Church in Jamaica Plain.
A bagpiper played "The Marine Hymn" as two rows of Marines in full dress uniform carried a flag-draped casket into the brick church.
A long procession of weeping relatives followed; Arredondo's father, Carlos, who suffered severe burns in the fire last month, attended the Mass in a hospital bed that was wheeled to the front of the church, where he remained throughout the service, just steps from the casket.
Two medical technicians stood nearby, beneath a stained-glass window.
"Can you imagine a man who cares about every person he meets? . . . Fortunately, those of us here today don't have to imagine," Elia Contos, a close friend of Alex Arredondo, said in a brief, emotional tribute he read at the funeral. "He made us all feel special."
A Norwood native, Arredondo graduated from Blue Hills Regional Technical School in Canton in 2002 and joined the Marine Corps soon after, fulfilling a longtime dream, family members have said. He served one tour of duty in Iraq and came home to visit family near Boston last winter before being sent back to the war-torn country. He was killed in combat Aug. 24 near Najaf.
His death became dramatic national news a day later, when Marines who delivered the news to his 44-year-old father in Hollywood, Fla., were unable to stop the grief-stricken man as he doused their van with gasoline and ignited it with a propane torch.
Carlos Arredondo, a native of Costa Rica who moved from the Boston area to Florida last year with his wife, Melida, told The Patriot Ledger of Quincy last week that he was not trying to commit suicide when he set fire to the van. The fire ignited accidentally, he said, as his mother tried to pull him out of the vehicle. Police have said they do not intend to charge him with any crime.
At yesterday's Mass, Alex Arredondo was remembered as a caring son and friend, a role model for his brothers, and a "constant source of strength," said the Rev. James Laughlin, who described Arredondo as a hero.
"But he was no unknown, unnamed soldier -- he was someone who was dear to your hearts, someone devoted, loving and caring, who was always there for his mom, and always loving his father," Laughlin said.
"Even in difficult circumstances, he was always the one in the family who you could count on. He was a young man of few words, of tremendous strength."
Laughlin acknowledged the special grief that follows a young person's death. "It would be foolish for me, as a priest, to try and explain away this tragedy," he said. "We still don't understand this mystery of death, why some people's lives seem to be cut short in their prime."
Arredondo's mother, Victoria Foley of Bangor, told reporters last month that she spoke with her son the day he died, and he seemed happy. The young man's grandfather, John C. Foley, was also a Marine.
During the Mass, Contos expressed gratitude for the stories about Alex that survive, "whether it was the worst car ride ever . . . or dancing in a parking lot."
"He was a good mentor, a good friend, a good protector," Contos said. "I'm not only glad to call him my best friend, I'm proud to call him a hero, and a brother."
A saxophonist played "Amazing Grace" as the Marines carried the casket back out of the church, with Carlos Arredondo, his expression stoic, close behind in his hospital bed. Burial was in Rural Cemetery in Walpole.
A spokeswoman for the family said the Arredondos did not want to talk to reporters yesterday.
Weeping openly in the street after the funeral Mass, Chris McCarthy of Randolph called Alex Arredondo a great friend.
"He was special," the 16-year-old said. "When he went away to the war, I
had a feeling he wouldn't come back." 