Today on the 43rd anniversary of his death I pause to recall his service and call attention to a book of Scott's writing and poetry, that was assembled by his sister Carrie Christofferson Handy, who decades later, found a box of his letters stored in a closet. The book, Your Hero and Mine, Scott was reviewed here in a post last year.
As I noted in the earlier posts, I came to know of Scott Christofferson when one of Scott's nephews, sent an email out to the office staff where he worked, describing his uncle, and calling attention to a website dedicated to his uncles memory. I am most grateful to Jeff Lammert and his brother Matt, for introducing me to Scott through his book. Getting to know these two young men, over this past year has left me confident that Scott can look down; and be rightfully proud of his kin, for they still hold him dear in their hearts and are living their lives as if his hand is on their shoulders.
One of the most moving things I found in Your Hero and Mine, Scott; was short poem that introduced the chapter VIII, October 8, 1967. The irony of it is even more compelling when compared to a passage written to his wife shortly after being relieved as second in command of the 1st Infantry Division after the invasion of Sicily. He wrote:
The longer I live the more I think
of the quality of fortitude-
men who fall,
pick themselves up and stumble on,
Major General Theodore Roosevelt Jr. 1943and are trying to get up when they die.
And 24 years later this was penned:
The jaded man stumbles again;
for the last time,
He tries with all his strength
to regain his feet,
But his muscles are all played
out with past efforts,
He dies struggling to stand
He dies grimacing with trial
But struggling also with a faint,
Specialist Scott A. Christofferson, 1967For he knows he has lived.
The irony is cause for quiet reflection.