[img]2569|right|Matt Ferrara||no_popup[/img]On Nov. 7, 2007, Ari Noonan wrote an essay about my son, Matt Ferrara, who had been killed in Afghanistan in the Bella Ambush.
On May 13, Matt's radio operator is being awarded the Medal of Honor for his actions that day.
I saved Ari's article because it was so poignant that it seared itself into my heart. I read it from time to time.
For some reason, I feel that Ari should know about the upcoming Medal of Honor tribute.
Our family will be attending the ceremony at the White House.
Thank you for that article.
Ms. Ferrara may be contacted at lindaferrara@aol.com
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Hearts Beat More Slowly When a Son of Promise Dies in War
By Ari L. Noonan @ 1:00 PM November 13, 2007
I slogged through a most unsettling breakfast at my favorite table this morning because U.S. Army Lt. Matt Ferrara, 24 years old, of Torrance, was murdered in a chicken-hearted way last Friday in eastern Afghanistan.
He was ambushed.
In war, they don’t call it murder.
We will.
“Murder” rings with more dastardly, door-slamming finality than the feckless “killed in combat.”
Lt. Ferrara’s death struck me with mega-force.
In the starkest moments, a feeling coursed through me as if Lt. Ferrara, remember the name, never had lived.
Life snuffed out at 24, the age my middle son, AJ, attained last Saturday. And my oldest son also is a Matt.
Did Lt. Ferrara ever live? How will we know?
Photographic Evidence
I am haunted by photographer Robert Casillas’s extraordinary photo of the stunned Ferrara family on page A-12 in this morning’s Daily Breeze. Look it up at dailybreeze.com.
Three brothers, Marcus, the oldest, Damon and Andy, and their parents, bakery owners Mario and Linda. Only their married sister, Simone, was absent. Marcus also is a soldier. He flew home yesterday from Thailand.
If I were the front-page editor, I would have filled the top half of A-1 with this magnificent keepsake portrait.
I must have stared for five minutes.
The Composition
For unadulterated eloquence, the depth of the grief scrawled onto their frozen faces is unsurpassable.
Marcus, his father and his mother are seated, and the other two boys are behind them.
My attention zoomed onto Mr. Ferrara and his stricken face. Seated in the middle, his chin rests on his folded over left hand.
Andy is draped across the top of his mother’s chair, sobbing.
What He Was Like
As an American, you need to know two facts about Lt. Ferrara, the third of five children:
He was whip-smart (scoring 1580 out of 1600 on his SAT test half a dozen years ago). Had he lived, he would have been surrounded by a loving family he often made laugh.
Total Clarity Lacking
Mustering far more succor than I could have managed, the family shared Matt stories yesterday with Daily Breeze reporter Denise Nix.
I am not fully certain yet why Lt. Ferrara ‘s murder kicked me in the stomach except that one important family lost a jewel.
Details of his ambush don’t matter. He was a good boy who, reasonably, could have expected to live 80 years longer.
Now what does the family do?
Ruminating on War
Strangely, I bang the drums loudest when war beckons for America. The original hawk. The Iraq War was and is necessary.
The terrorists must be stopped abroad.
Their son died, Lt. Ferrara’s parents believe, worthily.
Dare we, dare we, call them wrong?
A Uniform Tradition
The Ferraras of Torrance have a generational history with the military, as you probably could guess. Lt. Ferrara’s murder is not likely to dampen their ardor. Or mine.
If your name is Ferrara, though, how do you go on?
Even if it is Noonan?
