Family, friends mourn tragic loss of son, comrade in arms

By Deanna Brown

Daily Sun

Spc. Donald A. Wilkerson’s family, almost all of them, it seems, served in the Army since the Revolutionary War — including father, sisters, aunts, uncles.

“Donnie,” as his family affectionately called him, grew from a bright, impish blond-haired, blue-eyed boy with a contagious grin, to a young man eager to serve his country.

This past Veterans Day, the ceremony at the courthouse was dedicated in loving memory to Wilkerson, who took his own life Saturday, Oct. 17 of this year. He struggled with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) which plagued him after his medical discharge April 23, 2008 from the Army for that reason.

Donald, age 24, was attending school at Navarro College, making very good grades, and had a plan for his life, according to one instructor.

“He was a wonderful man, a wonderful son,” said his mother, Betty Wilkerson. “It wasn’t everyday life that did this to him, it was the war. He never talked a great deal about what went on ... some things were so horrible, he couldn’t even find the words.”

Good friend and fellow soldier Sgt. Scott Tolmach, who with his wife is expecting a son soon who will be named Donald in Wilkerson’s honor, tried to find the words to express how he felt about his friend.

“He was a good friend, I love him,” Tolmach said. “I never served with anyone better than him, and I could speak my mind around him and he always understood. He was the true definition of a soldier. I will miss him. I never had a better friend than Donald, and don’t think I ever will again.”

Another soldier in his unit, Mike Livingston, said he himself was not the best at what he did, but Donald was so very good at what he did, saving Livingston’s life not once, but twice in Iraq.

Ironically, Wilkerson’s father Don served in Vietnam, in the 101st Airborne division, following two brothers and a sister who did tours there. Don has battled PTSD as well since his return, one reason the family moved often during Donald’s childhood.

He was born in Dumas, and was the epitome of a “big Texan.” He played football in high school in Montana, and at 6 foot, 4 inches and nearly 300 pounds, was always in demand on the football field.

As a little boy, he loved Ninja Turtles, and was known to give kittens rides in his Ninja Turtle mobile. He loved his little sister Amy, two years younger, and even dressed her as a boy once, taking her around the neighborhood introducing her as his brother “Max.”

“When Donnie was little, he developed an astute sense of chivalry, and was adamant about protecting weaker people,” Don said of his son. “He was always real happy, and teased his mother about staying home from school to help her bake cookies.”

He loved to imitate Robin Williams, and could crack his mother up singing, “I feel pretty, oh so pretty,” which caused everyone to erupt in laughter. Fascinated with light sabers, he made them, and sold them on eBay. He loved to tease his parents, sisters, nieces and nephews, and was known to simply scoop one up in his arms. The gentle giant also started a collection of Blue Willow china for his mother, and would add pieces for birthdays, Mother’s Day and Christmas.

After graduation, Donald joined the Army, and was sent to Fort Knox, Ky. for basic training and advanced individual training as a tanker. He received 10 medals, badges and commendations for his skill and motivation in his unit.

While in Germany, Wilkerson developed a love for the German people, and they for him, loving the “big American.” His elder sister, Misty Biddick, was a staff sergeant. stationed in Germany at the same time, and they loved to get together and go out for a big, hearty steak dinner.

Wilkerson was awarded the privilege of wearing an 101st Airborne patch on his arm in July 2006. He was eventually sent to Iraq, and stationed in Ramadi, a particularly horrible place, covered in raw sewage.

“It was considered the worst place to be in Iraq,” Betty said. “At one point, they were only getting two bottles of water per day. It was their choice to drink it, or bathe with it. They were dirty, hot and miserable, and the morale was so low. Donald made himself a Superman suit using duct tape for the big S and a towel for a cape, and went ‘flying’ to each soldier giving pep talks.”

“That’s who Donald was,” Amy said, “Superman. He believed in truth and justice, protecting women and defeating evil. He could melt anyone with those blue eyes.”

Another time Donnie asked his mother to mail him a clown suit they had left from a previous Halloween, which he used to try to boost morale.

“There was nothing he wouldn’t do to try to keep his fellow soldiers going,” she said.

“We received a letter from his captain, saying that he watched Donald throughout his tour, as he went from a fun-loving young man to a very serious, quiet young man.”

Younger sister Amy, a corporal in the Army, will deploy to Afghanistan at the first of the year. Donald never wanted his little sister in the military, and Amy recalls a conversation they had when Donald found out she would go to Afghanistan.

“We were cooking dinner together in the kitchen, and Donald told me to do what I had to do to survive, and come home,” Amy said, tears welling.

Donnie and Don bonded over their shared experience of battle, and when Donnie returned from Iraq, the two both had a poem called “Soldier’s Prayer” tattooed on their upper arms, Don’s with an infantry badge, and Donnie’s with a combat badge. Don found the poem in a newspaper in Yuma, Ariz. years ago. It reads:

I was that which others cared not to be.

I went where others feared to go and did what others failed to do.

I asked nothing from those who gave nothing.

And reluctantly accepted that thought of eternal loneliness should I fail.

I have seen the face of terror, felt the chill of fear, warmed to the touch of love, I have hoped, pained, cried

But foremost lived in times others would say best forgotten.

At the very least in later days, I will be able to say with greatest pride that I was indeed a soldier.

(Anonymous)

Years ago, Don underwent in-house treatment for PTSD for seven weeks, which Betty believes saved his life.

“I have been under a doctor’s care ever since,” Don said. “I take my medication, and suggest any veteran do that. Take it as prescribed, do not add or subtract from it.”

Don and Donnie both saw the same primary care physician, and the same psychiatrist at the Veterans Administration. About a week before Donnie died, he called and asked to speak with his doctor. He was told by a receptionist that it wasn’t the way things worked, and he would need to make an appointment.

The program from the Veterans Day ceremony on Nov. 11 that honored Donnie also stated, “Veterans, family or friends can access the Veterans Chat or call the number listed for free help with emotional issues: http://www.oefoif.va.gov/ or call 1-800-273-8255. The Lifeline is staffed 24 hours a day, seven days a week by trained mental health counselors. They stand ready to serve Veterans or any loved ones who know a veteran experiencing an emotional crisis.”

“I hope from Donnie’s story that soldiers know they can call for help,” Don said.

“We don’t want any other families to go through this,” Betty agreed. “We knew he was really sick, but we didn’t know just how sick. The VA can help soldiers and veterans. Please go talk to somebody. Just keep trying until you find someone.”

Wilkerson was given a hero’s funeral, with Amy’s unit, and full military honors. An organ donor, the Wilkersons received word recently that two different people were now able to see because of Donnie’s eyes.

“I hope they see the world the way he did,” Betty said. “An ordinary boy grew up, did extraordinary things, then came home and fell through the cracks, and we lost him.

“He was a light in this world, and it is a shame.”

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Deanna Brown may be contacted via e-mail at deanna@corsicanadailysun.com. Want to “Soundoff” on this story? E-mail soundoff@corsicanadailysun.com.