Cpl. Jose A. Garibay
http://www2.ocregister.com/ocrweb/ocr/article.do?id=31793§ion=NEWS&subsection=AMERICA_AT_WAR&year=2003&month=3&day=26 'If I make it home, I'll tell you'
A young Marine's affection for his friends and family lives on in his letters from the war zone.
By VALERIA GODINES, BRIAN MARTINEZ and JIM HINCH
The Orange County Register
"Hey dude, what's up?" the letter from the tough-talking Marine began. "I'm doing OK. The food and camp suck here. I imagine hell being nicer to visit than here. There are no women here either."
Cpl. Jose Angel Garibay, Orange County's first combat death in Iraq, loved to project a tough image with flaming skull tattoos dancing down one arm and a Brahma bull tattoo - in honor of his favorite wrestler, The Rock - needled on the other.
But the letter ended: "Can you send some candy?"
Garibay was also a homesick 21-year-old Costa Mesa man who wished for more letters from home. He wrote often - to teachers, friends, family. He signed many of his letters, "Hozer," the name his best friends called him. And through the letters, a softer, more complex Garibay emerges.
Feb. 27, 2003: "There will be no knowledge of Camp Shoup in the media. I can't explain it. If I make it home, I'll tell you. We shower one time a week, sleep with rounds, knives and automatics, the gas mask by our side, too. They are still working on lighting in the tents."
March 9, 2003: "Hey, it's been a noisy day. There were jets going constantly over Iraq and helos near the border. We got ice cream for dinner, steak and potatoes and Pepsi. You may not realize how much that meant to us."
Garibay went to Newport Harbor High School, where he played football and wrote the scores of every game on his notebook.
"He was a sincere kid. Good heart. Wasn't the best athlete, not a superstar student," said junior-varsity football coach Mike Bargas. "But he appreciated being involved, and he worked hard. The military was a great fit for him. He felt he was making a contribution to the country."
Garibay died Sunday near An Nasiriyah, Iraq, where Marines were killed in an ambush by Iraqis pretending to surrender. His mother learned of his death early Monday morning when Marines knocked on her door.
And the family received another visit from Marine officials Tuesday evening.
"The only thing they said is, 'Do you want metal or wood for the box?'" said Reyes Garibay, Jose's uncle. "That's not important. We want details. They couldn't tell us how he died. Maybe when they bring the body, they can tell us. We were waiting for some information."
The Marines said Garibay's remains are expected to be flown to the United States within seven to 10 days. The family is planning a service at St. Joachim Church, where Garibay made his first Communion in 1994. And they would like him buried with military honors at the National Cemetery in Riverside.
For now, St. Joachim Church is honoring the family daily this week at the 6 p.m. Mass at 1964 Orange Ave. in Costa Mesa.
Friends and family are still stunned.
Teacher Janis Toman was preparing a care package for Garibay when a reporter called her to deliver the bad news Monday. Toman received 15 letters from Garibay while he served in the Marines.
"I believed in him," Toman said. "He was a little troubled as a freshman, but through the resource program and football, he found the support he needed to become the man that he became."
Aaron Maher, 22, went through a box of Garibay's personal belongings Tuesday afternoon, pulling out the letters and dog tags that Garibay had sent him. Garibay lived with Maher's family for two years while in high school. His mother blessed the living arrangement, saying that the Mahers treated her son like family.
Richard Maher, Aaron's father, said Garibay was a gentle, respectful person. "He always called me, 'Mr. Maher.' He picked up after himself; he did his own laundry. He was a very good kid."
Aaron said Garibay was excited about war but unsure about his future. "He called and left us all messages and e-mails about the experiences and how he appreciated us all, and if he didn't make it back, he loved us. He kept doubting he would return."
Toman received a letter from Garibay on Monday just hours before learning of his death:
"Hey, Janis, So how's everything going? How is your family? Do your students have questions? Jet's flying over, tanks starting up at 2 a.m., tracks kicking up dust
"So what's up at home? Are people worried about a war? Well, anyway I'm gonna go to sleep, there are no lights here. Sundown means lights out. Jose."
