Day Two
I've been overwhelmed by the press coverage and public outpouring of support for Trista's family and friends. The city of South Plainfield, NJ is displaying flags at half mast, lighting candles, posting signs... it's very touching and I know her family appreciates it. The Patriot Guard Riders are on standby to attend her funeral and give her a heroes send-off. I've gotten a lot of comments on here and although I was nervous about all the attention, I'm also glad to offer someplace for people to speak. It's unnerving to be "in the public eye" so to speak. I just keep reminding myself it's not ME it's TRISTA... and she deserves to be known and remembered and honored. I'm also glad to take the attention upon myself rather than allow it to fall on her family.
Today was not any better than yesterday. First thing this morning I checked the news and there she was... a confirmed name and small DoD statement about how she passed. It was real. She is gone. I keep looking at her pictures and remembering her laugh. I look at her number in my phone and I want to call it, but for what reason... so I can cry more over her voicemail message? I see the dimple in her chin. I hear her accent. I see her goofy faces. I remember her eating those ranch flavored corn nuts by me when I was pregnant just to gross me out, always offering me some lol. I remember her sarcastic banter and her energy that never seemed to wear out. I remember her poor grammar and messy handwriting. I remember how she stunk at word games, but always insisted on playing them. I remember "I hate you" and the evil eye with a smirk... or "that's disgusting", especially about the snack shack. Her fake guilt trips. Her generosity. Her dedication to the military and everything it stood for. Always had shiny boots and creases, hair always perfect. Always complaining about guys looking at her... like it wasn't obvious she liked it haha. She's still one of the most beautiful women I've ever met. She knew she was beautiful, but she wasn't stuck-up about it... just had a healthy self-image. I was so jealous of her Jetta... I wanted a Jetta... I still want a Jetta. The more I sit, the more I remember. It just feels good to share it. I don't ever want to forget Trista. I remember my friend and I can't believe she's gone.
As more details emerge of her death I only become more angry. 21 other people were injured. She was the only casualty. Why her... why anyone? I see flags waving outside and I immediately start to cry. They've taken on so much more meaning. The flag has always made me feel pride, but now those red stripes whipping in the wind are all I can see. She was so proud to serve and I am so proud to have met her. The Army has suffered a huge loss. I know she was an excellent leader and would have gone far in the military. She loved her job and she never seemed to be afraid or worried so I never felt I had to worry about her. I'd like to tell everyone still in Iraq who was serving with her how sorry I am for their loss. I hope you all come home soon. Try and stay focused and keep yourselves safe out there.
Some reporters have been nagging, others have been genuinely interested in Trista's life. I'm afraid to talk to any of them. How could I possibly do her justice... I only knew her for a few years. Who am I to say anything. Yet, here I am pouring my guts out to my public blog again. I'm not ashamed of anything I've said and I know it to be true. I'm just not normally this forthcoming with personal and emotional information. I tend to delete things like this. They have asked me for names of friends to contact and I just feel wrong giving any information. I don't want to be responsible for annoying people if they want to be left alone during a difficult time. I suggested they open a public forum and invite the willing to come say some words they wouldn't mind having published. I think that's harmless enough. I want the press to leave the family alone for awhile, but I think Trista deserves to be written about. That leaves us, her friends.
Jack Zahora with National Public Radio in Washington, DC would like to do a story about Trista. He assures me that "the piece would be about her life, in and outside of the military. Nothing political". If anyone would like to share their memories or even pictures of Trista for publication feel free to contact him. I said he could use anything from my blog (from me... I can't speak for the commenters).
Jack Zahora (myspace)
National Public Radio
email: jzahora@npr.org
Today was not any better than yesterday. First thing this morning I checked the news and there she was... a confirmed name and small DoD statement about how she passed. It was real. She is gone. I keep looking at her pictures and remembering her laugh. I look at her number in my phone and I want to call it, but for what reason... so I can cry more over her voicemail message? I see the dimple in her chin. I hear her accent. I see her goofy faces. I remember her eating those ranch flavored corn nuts by me when I was pregnant just to gross me out, always offering me some lol. I remember her sarcastic banter and her energy that never seemed to wear out. I remember her poor grammar and messy handwriting. I remember how she stunk at word games, but always insisted on playing them. I remember "I hate you" and the evil eye with a smirk... or "that's disgusting", especially about the snack shack. Her fake guilt trips. Her generosity. Her dedication to the military and everything it stood for. Always had shiny boots and creases, hair always perfect. Always complaining about guys looking at her... like it wasn't obvious she liked it haha. She's still one of the most beautiful women I've ever met. She knew she was beautiful, but she wasn't stuck-up about it... just had a healthy self-image. I was so jealous of her Jetta... I wanted a Jetta... I still want a Jetta. The more I sit, the more I remember. It just feels good to share it. I don't ever want to forget Trista. I remember my friend and I can't believe she's gone.
As more details emerge of her death I only become more angry. 21 other people were injured. She was the only casualty. Why her... why anyone? I see flags waving outside and I immediately start to cry. They've taken on so much more meaning. The flag has always made me feel pride, but now those red stripes whipping in the wind are all I can see. She was so proud to serve and I am so proud to have met her. The Army has suffered a huge loss. I know she was an excellent leader and would have gone far in the military. She loved her job and she never seemed to be afraid or worried so I never felt I had to worry about her. I'd like to tell everyone still in Iraq who was serving with her how sorry I am for their loss. I hope you all come home soon. Try and stay focused and keep yourselves safe out there.
Some reporters have been nagging, others have been genuinely interested in Trista's life. I'm afraid to talk to any of them. How could I possibly do her justice... I only knew her for a few years. Who am I to say anything. Yet, here I am pouring my guts out to my public blog again. I'm not ashamed of anything I've said and I know it to be true. I'm just not normally this forthcoming with personal and emotional information. I tend to delete things like this. They have asked me for names of friends to contact and I just feel wrong giving any information. I don't want to be responsible for annoying people if they want to be left alone during a difficult time. I suggested they open a public forum and invite the willing to come say some words they wouldn't mind having published. I think that's harmless enough. I want the press to leave the family alone for awhile, but I think Trista deserves to be written about. That leaves us, her friends.
Jack Zahora with National Public Radio in Washington, DC would like to do a story about Trista. He assures me that "the piece would be about her life, in and outside of the military. Nothing political". If anyone would like to share their memories or even pictures of Trista for publication feel free to contact him. I said he could use anything from my blog (from me... I can't speak for the commenters).
Jack Zahora (myspace)
National Public Radio
email: jzahora@npr.org
Comments
I have a friend who served with Trista in Iraq until the 25th. Her fellow soldiers miss her too. I didn't know her but the way you both write about her, I wish I had. You and all that were close to her are in my thoughts. Thank you for sharing your memories of a very special person.
Bless you.
o
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As I've told you before, I am in awe of anyone who has ever served our country in the military. Thank you, Allie, and thank you, Trista. God bless you.
you've done a great job writing about Trista.I feel like I know more about her now & she sounded like such a sweet person.It's so nice to have a place for people to share their memories of her and keep her memory alive.I am so sorry you lost your friend.xoxoxo
Brit
This is a great thing you're doing. I went to college with Trista's sister Jen so that is how I know Trista. You are so rigth...Trista was always smiling and so full of energy as I recall hanging out with her at college get togethers. I guess it runs in the family because her older sister Jen is the same way. It's amazing what she sacrificed for all of us here safe in America. We don't realize how many soldiers are out there risking their lives fighting for our freedom as we live our crazy lives chasing our dreams. After reading all the blogs, I honestly feel that she was living her dream and she is looking down at all of us with that big smile of hers. We'll miss you. And Jen...hang in there girl...keep your dreams alive as Trista is looking over you all....God Bless you and your whole family and friends. :(
Randy Zimnoch & wife Kamila
I was not one of the more popular kids at that time (kinda nerdy), but Trista was very nice to me. She sat behind me in every gym class "line-up" because of our name spelling. And she seemed to be friendlier with me then any other guy in gym class, which is a testament to how she would be friends with anyone if they, too, were kind and good-hearted.
You will find me in the 6th and 7th grade SPHS yearbooks next to her...
I moved to Bound Brook, NJ in March of 93. I graduated from Bound Brook High School in June of 98 and attended Rutgers University. Sad to say, I had not seen Trista for years until I had seen this article about her passing some time ago. I'm only posting this now on your blog because she--and the kindness and maturity she showed me at such a young age--had a significant impact on the rest of my life. At the time I lived in South Plainfield for all those years, I lived at 259 Merchants Ave right around the corner from both SPMS and SPHS. I remember my friends Joey Harrah and Jonathan McConnell, of which I still have contact with Jon. He can't believe she is gone either, as he had more contact with her as they both went to HS together. She is thought of often.
Michael Monetti
email: drogs@elitefitness.com