A
year later, Davis family still seeks answers
By Kathy Helms-Hughes
Special to The Elizabethton Star
Time does not heal all wounds. A year ago today,
Lon and Linda Davis of Watauga awoke to the beginning of a nightmare
which has yet to end.
It was a sunny, cheerful morning in December. Linda
Davis stood in the dining room, ironing, and trying to shake
an unreasonable fear and sense of foreboding.
She was glued to the television as newscasters
broadcast sketchy details of a misguided bomb which had struck
U.S. troops in Afghanistan. Mrs. Davis prayed for the soldiers
and their families.
When Lon came home shortly after noon, she told
him of her uneasiness. She then asked him how the military notified
families in the event of a soldier's death. The words had barely
left her mouth when there was a knock at the front door -- a
knock she knew better than to answer. Lon opened the door to
find two men in military uniform.
Master Sgt. Jefferson Donald "Donnie" Davis, 39,
a Green Beret and member of the 5th Specials Forces Group, was
among the "friendly fire" casualties in Afghanistan.
Davis, along with Sgt. 1st Class Daniel Petithory
of Massachusetts and Staff Sgt. Brian Cody Prosser of California,
had been assigned to protect Hamid Karzi, then Afghanistan's
interim prime minister. The 5th Group and Karzi's men had been
pinned down Dec. 4 at Showali Kowt, 10 miles from the Taliban
stronghold of Kandahar. After fighting nearly 48 hours with
little food and no sleep, they overtook an observation post.
A Green Beret support team arrived and Davis's team received
an air drop of food and letters from home. A festive mood prevailed.
On Dec. 5, with the Taliban still close by, the
Green Beret support team ordered airstrikes. An Air Force combat
controller radioed coordinates for an airstrike by a Navy F/A-18,
then did a second calculation for an approaching B-52 bomber.
The controller, using a "plugger," or Precision Lightweight
Global Positioning System Receiver, performed the calculation
and recorded the position. Unfortunately, the receiver's battery
died and the controller, not realizing that once the battery
had been changed the device automatically reverted to coordinates
for his own location, called in the B-52 strike.
The Davis family still is awaiting official details
from the U.S. Army. So far, the only information they have gleaned
has been through the media and members of Donnie's unit.
And though the family might have hoped to spend
the eve of Donnie's death in quiet reflection, it was not to
be. The Davis family divided their time Wednesday between the
Intensive Care Unit at Sycamore Shoals Hospital where Donnie's
maternal grandmother, Ruth Curd, underwent hip replacement surgery,
and a local funeral home where services were being held for
Chris King, the brother of an employee at The Barn Shoppe, the
Davis family's business. King died Monday as the result of an
automobile accident.
Mrs. Davis, speaking to the Star from the hospital
waiting room, said, "As far as finding out what really happened,
we haven't. We do not know any more than what we did 11 months
ago. We just know that they're still working on it.
"But what's done is done and you just have to pick
up and try to go on. Your memories are there -- good memories.
Just like the King family. They lost their son. And there are
other people that have lost children, be it young or be it adult.
It doesn't matter. It's still the same thing for a parent. Your
heart just goes out to them."
Debbie Sams, Donnie's sister, said her brother
was in the Army nearly 17 years and she thinks his family deserves
an answer regarding the events surrounding his death.
"He gave his life. Whatever mission they put him
on, he went. He gave 100 percent. I think they owe his family
an explanation of what happened."
Sams said the family doesn't want to point a finger
at anybody. "We just want the truth. I think it would help us
in the healing process and I just feel like the government owes
us that much since Donnie did dedicate his life to the Army.
I think it's unfair that they have not come through with it
for us.
"We sort of know what happened, but we would just
like it on paper. I feel like we're not really getting any closure
and I feel like it's unfair to my parents and to his wife and
children."
It's been an emotional year for the family, Sams
said, and a timely report from the Army is the final honor Donnie
deserves.
"People say, 'Well, that's how the military is.'
That may be true, but I just feel like he deserves more than
what has went on from the military or the government. I just
hate it for mom and dad. It's really getting to them."
Her grandmother's surgery, Sams said, though coming
at a bad time, actually has helped the family. "I wouldn't want
anything to happen to my grandmother, of course, but it has
kept our minds occupied because we're focusing on her. Not that
we're going to forget ... it's still going to be a rough day."
Mrs. Davis said the wait has been disappointing.
"You're frustrated. But I don't know how to spur anything on.
... We did get a letter that said they would tell us, eventually,
what they can tell us. Now, what does that tell you? It doesn't
tell me very much at all. It's just going to be: 'Well, Mr.
and Mrs. Davis, the bomb fell, it was an accident, blah, blah,
blah, and that's it.' That's what I feel.
"Finally, you get tired. You're worn down, even
though it still hurts just like it was yesterday. It's a dull
ache, and it's something that I don't think will ever go away.
I think you just learn to live with it and adjust to it," she
said.
"I don't really want to go to the cemetery [today],
but I know that I'll be drawn to go down there and just tell
my son, 'I'm sorry. Mama couldn't take care of you no more.'
"