Heroes and Friends

by Jay Coleman

            The young Marine lay in a Bethesda, Maryland hospital bed.  His body had been ravaged, both lungs punctured, spleen ruptured, knees shattered, and hands barely distinguishable.  Walking across the stage to accept his Purple Heart would be no easy task even after months of agonizing rehabilitation.  He was fortunate to be living and would have certainly not have been if not for the resiliency and poise shown by our fellow Marines that day. 

The name of that Marine is Chaim Kozak, and he is not only my best friend but my hero.  Not only is he a hero for what he did on the battlefield on behalf of the country he loves, but for everything he stands for and all of the life lessons he has unknowingly taught me through his deeds and with his approach towards life.

A few months after I left active duty, I was becoming a stereotype.  I was drinking heavily and abusing the sleeping and anti-anxiety medication that had been prescribed to me.  My house was a wreck as I had abandoned the work ethic and attitude that the Marine Corps had, for good reason, instilled in me. 

It was probably the fourth or fifth day of binge drinking and I was growing frustrated in fruitless attempts to write the songs that would help me capture my emotions.  My mind was constantly racing and an inability to focus was growing more and more unnerving.  I was burdened by questions and by what is commonly known as “survivors’ guilt.”

“Why not me?”  I would ask my self relentlessly. “I don’t have kids.  I have no one who depends on me.  Why should I be here when others, with more to live for, had not returned?”

That night, my inability to focus and my racing thoughts erased any possibility of the sleep that I desperately craved.  At that time, for me, deep sleep was harder to come by than a woman who honestly doesn’t mind her husband watching football all day on Sunday.

I decided that my thoughts were working against me, and felt that my only alternative was to drink enough liquor and take enough pills to force my body into a state of mini-hibernation.  The doctors mistook this for a suicide attempt which landed me in what can only be describe as a psych ward.  Thankfully, I wasn’t there long.

In a point in my life where the only direction left to go was up, I some how managed to dig myself into a deeper whole.  I got into several fights which, thankfully, never resulted in my incarceration and was beginning to pack on the pounds.

Self pity and regret, two emotions not tolerated in the Marine Corps, were dictating my decisions.  Anger lead me to pursue confrontation, and loneliness lead me to bars where when the bar tender turned me down, there was always a lonely woman who certainly would not.

I had also decided that despite making good grades in high school, and a desire to learn, my inability to concentrate would lead to inevitable failure in any college attempt.  My first two attempts at employment were terminated because of fights (One of which was, ironically enough, during a safety briefing).

I thought it would take a miracle to turn my life around.  Actually, all it took was a friend.

“Hey buddy,” a familiar voice said on my only recently reactivated cell phone. 

“Hey, Kozak, how’s everything going?”

That was the first conversation I’d had in a long time where I was actually interested in what the other person had to say.  After a few moments of reminiscing on times spent in the Corps, and giving each other a hard time for one stupid thing or another that the other had done during those years, we began to joke about new things going on in our lives.

I began to tell him a story about an ex girlfriend, “So I told this girl who cheated on me, ‘We just aren’t compatible.  You see sweetheart, I’m an Aries and, well, you’re a whore’!”

He saw right through that story, even if he did laugh.  “You heard that somewhere,” he replied, “There isn’t any way on Earth you actually said that to a girl, even if she did cheat on you.  First of all, you’re expecting me to believe that you could actually get a girlfriend!”

After we a while of revisiting old memories and telling a few jokes, I began to tell him about how I was struggling, and had not yet started school, or done anything productive in the year since we left active duty.

“Coleman! What are you thinking?” Kozak asked in a tone that can somehow manage to sound condescending yet full of concern.  “We’ve been out (of the Corps) for over a year.  I already have my Associates Degree and am about to go to the police academy.  You need to really get your act together.”

“I know man.  I really do.  You aren’t the first to tell me that.  But, I honestly just can’t focus….”

“Unless it’s on a beer bottle, huh?” he interrupted.  

He obviously wasn’t going to listen to any of my excuses or hold a pity party in my honor.  He would listen to my sob story, but he wasn’t going to sob with me and a few jokes weren’t going to derail him from getting his point across.

“Buddy, I’ve been through that and then some.  I’ve asked myself the same questions.  The only difference is that I have fake knees and no spleen.  It’s hard but you’ve got to tough it out.  What do you think those guys would think of you if they saw you living like you are?  You need to stop being selfish and take advantage of a chance that they had taken away from them.  The only way to truly get over that stuff is to make something of your self and make them proud.  Your life needs to be a tribute to them, and you need to make the most of it.”

It was amazing how much sense that made to me, and even more amazing that, with all of the thoughts that had  been racing through my head, the thought of making the most of my life in honor of those who gave theirs never once crossed my mind.

But it was going to take more than a pep talk to motivate me or have any lasting effect, and Kozak knew that.  What he did for me over the next few months changed my perspective on life from that point on.

In a matter of weeks he and I were rooming together in one of his dad’s homes up in Westland, Michigan.  His younger sister Helaina, who is also an amazing person, lined me up with a job.  He selflessly took time out of his schedule to drive down to Kentucky and pick me up, and his family had furnished the home for us, which is a testament to the type of people they are.

I hadn’t seen my friend in over a year.  He had worked hard and was in incredible shape in preparation for the police academy.  It was amazing how he had gone from the verge of death to well prepared to be the top recruit of Detroit’s police academy.  The determination and work ethic he had displayed was humbling and inspiring to me. 

It wasn’t long before I felt more at home in Westland, Michigan than I had anywhere else I’d ever lived.  His sister also quickly became one of my best friends and one of the people I respect most in this world.  The transformation I made in just a few months was incredible.  I had quit drinking, was holding a job, and was ready to start school.  I had even found a church and rededicated my life to God.

However, as Kozaks’ work ethic and values began to rub off on me, I too began to feel the need to help other people.  My younger sister was having problems in her marriage and I felt like I needed to come home to help her.

It was hard to leave Michigan, even though to this day I feel like there is no place like “my old Kentucky home.” But, thanks to Kozak, I was well prepared.  It was difficult to leave my new friends behind, as they were truly as good to me as anyone had ever been. His sister was especially hard to say goodbye to as she had inspired me to finish the song I had been struggling to write all of that time.

However, it is not lost upon me the reason that I was able to meet such great people, change my life, and find answers to the questions that had been haunting me.  It is my friend Kozak.  The man literally saved my life, and I can never thank him enough.

It was the rough times in the Marine Corps that made us friends, and his courage and determination that make him my hero.  I’ve never met anyone who has overcome as much adversity and done it while maintaining such positive outlook.  I’ve never seen him back down or take the easy way out.  He loves our country more than anyone I’ve ever known and wears his scars with both pride and humility.  He is truly an inspiration to me and everyone who has the privilege to know him. 

As months of relentless rehabilitation occupied his days in that Bethesda, Maryland hospital, my friend never lost his optimism.  As nightmares and agonizing pain dominated his nights, allowing only brief sleep, my hero never complained.  I honestly can’t say that I know what got him through those difficult months, or what inspired him persevere and accomplish all that he has, but I can say that I know what helped me get through my difficult times, and what has inspired me to want to achieve great things.  It was that Marine laying wounded in that hospital bed for all of those months.  It was Chaim Kozak, my hero and my friend.

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