[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 151 (2005), Part 15]
[Senate]
[Pages 20643-20646]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]




                       HONORING OUR ARMED FORCES


                     Army Captain Dennis L. Pintor

  Mr. DeWINE. Mr. President, on October 11, 2004, the Lima, OH, 
newspaper received an e-mail that said the following:

       Greetings, My name is Captain Dennis Pintor . . . I was 
     born and raised in Lima and lived there until I enlisted in 
     the Army in 1992. I am currently requesting the help of the 
     citizens of Lima to assist in our efforts here in Baghdad. 
     School here has just begun session and many of the students 
     need supplies . . . I tell you it makes a difference in the 
     kids and my soldiers. I appreciate any assistance . . . the 
     people of Lima can offer. Respectfully--Captain Dennis 
     Pintor.

  Tragically, that same newspaper reported the captain's death just a 
few days later. He was killed when an improvised explosive device 
detonated near his patrol vehicle in Baghdad.
  At the news of his death, family friend Lillian Abelita remembered 
that Dennis was ``one of a kind'' and that he touched thousands of 
lives. She noted that Dennis's ``last wish was for the Iraqi 
children.'' ``It wasn't even for himself,'' she said. The focus of his 
life had always been giving all that he had for others.
  Dennis Pintor was born and raised in Lima by loving parents, Bert and 
Ellen Pintor. He was the big brother whom siblings Bob, Sara, and Diana 
looked up to.
  Dennis attended Elida High School, where he belonged to several teams 
and clubs. He played soccer and tennis, was on the yearbook staff, and 
started the Red Knees Club for his fellow basketball players who didn't 
get much playing time. John Hullinger, a teammate, remembered that 
``Dennis was not one to complain about sitting on the bench. He made 
the most of it and had fun with it.''
  Dennis made the most of everything, including his academic studies. 
Dennis wanted to learn. Alan Chum, a guidance counselor at Elida High 
School, had Dennis in several math classes. He recalled that Dennis was 
an ``inquisitive'' student who would ``bring an energy that kept the 
class going.''
  Teachers wanted Dennis in their classrooms. Allen emphasized that 
``[Dennis] had a knack for being able to answer questions and ask good, 
appropriate questions. He was just a good kid--great to have in 
class.''
  Dennis excelled academically and earned an appointment to the U.S. 
Military Academy at West Point where he trained to be an engineer. He 
graduated in 1998 and then went on to complete Army Ranger School. 
Dennis quickly became a well-respected superior who was known for 
putting his men first.
  Dennis served as a peacekeeper in Kosovo--an assignment that suited 
his desire to help those who needed it most. In 2002, Dennis was 
assigned as Company Commander of Bravo Company, 20th Engineer 
Battalion, based in Fort Hood, TX.
  Dennis was Army through and through. One of Ellen Pintor's favorite 
memories of her son is when he would visit her classroom at North 
Middle School on Veterans Day. He would playfully give the kids orders 
and assign platoon leaders. Dennis would order the kids to stand in 
line and if they wouldn't do what he said quickly enough, he would 
command: ``Drop and give me five!'' Simultaneously, Dennis would drop 
to the floor and do push-ups with the kids.
  While he was in the Army, Dennis was lucky enough to meet the love of 
his life--Stacy--and married her in 2000. The two were meant for each 
other. Stacy called her husband, ``a glimpse of heaven.'' She said that 
``it was love that struck our souls. Individually we were strong, but 
together we were powerful.'' They were blessed with a baby girl, whom 
they named Rhea.
  Being together with his wife and daughter was so very important to 
Dennis. However, he also felt a great sense of duty to his fellow 
soldiers and to his Nation. His unit was called for deployment to Iraq 
in March 2004. Although it was difficult to leave his family, Dennis 
had a job to do. While overseas, Dennis was in charge of rebuilding and 
securing the safety of several schools in Baghdad. Dennis realized that 
Iraqi children needed help--and they needed supplies. He enlisted the 
help of those in his hometown of Lima to give what they could. As he 
had so many times before, Dennis had the needs of others foremost in 
his mind.
  CPT Jay Wisham, a member of Dennis's unit, noted that he was not 
surprised Dennis was trying to secure school supplies for the Iraqi 
children. He said this about Dennis:

       He was just a very good guy all the way around. He firmly 
     believed in what we were doing over there. All he wanted to 
     do was make things better for whomever's life he touched.

  Indeed, Dennis touched many lives.
  After his service, Dennis wanted to return to West Point as a 
professor. David Garrison said this about his nephew:

       [Dennis] refused to take the easy way through life. As an 
     officer, he was determined to receive all the tough training. 
     Unfortunately, America's future cadets will never have the 
     opportunity to learn what this West Point hero might have 
     taught.

  Although Dennis will never teach those West Point cadets in the 
classroom, he will teach them through his legacy. He will teach them 
through the love he had for his family and through the lives of those 
Iraqi children, who now have the opportunity to go to school.
  At the memorial service following Dennis's death, his uncle David 
explained that ``was loved so strongly by so many because he loved so 
selflessly.'' The Reverend Henry Sattler, who married Dennis and Stacy, 
noted that Dennis ``knew in the career he'd chosen that he may be asked 
to lay down his life for his friends . . . and he said yes.''
  CPT Dennis Pintor was a selfless man. Thanks to his efforts, more 
than 30 boxes of school supplies were sent to Iraq.
  Thanks to his efforts, hundreds of Iraqi children have a chance for a 
better life.
  Thanks to his efforts, the Iraqi people have a chance for freedom.

[[Page 20644]]

  My wife Fran and I keep Dennis's wife and daughter and his parents 
and siblings in our thoughts and in our prayers.


                     Army Sergeant Benjamin Biskie

  Mr. President, today I remember and pay tribute to a young man from 
Vermillion, OH, who gave his life for our freedom and for the freedom 
of the people of Iraq.
  Army Sgt Benjamin Biskie gave the ultimate sacrifice--his last true 
measure of devotion--on Christmas Eve, 2003. His vehicle struck an 
improvised explosive device near Samarra, Iraq. He was 27 years old.
  Ben was born and raised in Arizona with his two sisters, Andrea and 
Darlene. He attended Tucson Junior Academy until he moved with his 
mother, Della, to Ohio in 1993. There, he graduated from Vermillion 
High School one year later. Following graduation, Ben enlisted in the 
Army, but not before he met his future wife, Marcie, that summer while 
working at Cedar Point amusement park. The two quickly fell in love and 
were married.
  Although Ben was proud to serve in the U.S. Army, his crowning 
achievement was the birth of his son Benjamin, Jr. Ben's Army comrades 
remember how he constantly told stories about his son.
  Ben trained at Fort Leonard Wood, MO, where he, Marcie, and Ben, Jr. 
made their home. Ben, Sr. would eventually serve one year in South 
Korea before he was sent to the Middle East.
  Though Ben did not want to leave his young family, he did not 
hesitate when he and the rest of the 5th Engineer Battalion, 1st 
Engineer Brigade were called to serve in Iraq in April 2003. The men of 
the ``Fighting Fifth'' were attached to the 4th Infantry Division and 
were tasked with laying roads and bridges for the Division's 
advancement. Following the successful completion of that mission, Ben 
and the rest of the Battalion aided the reconstruction efforts in Iraq.
  Ben believed in the work he was doing to rebuild the lives of Iraqi 
people. Like the dreams he had for his own son, Ben knew that his work 
would give hope for a promising future to so many Iraqi children--hope 
that had not previously existed.
  As Fort Leonard Wood Chaplain Gregory Tyree said at the memorial 
service in Ben's honor:

       Maybe years from now . . . a person who today is but a 
     child in Iraq will look back through the pages of his life 
     and remember a soldier in a desert-colored uniform who cared 
     enough to help rebuild his school and came with a box of 
     school supplies. And maybe, just maybe, he will offer a word 
     of thanks for Sergeant Ben Biskie and the gift of freedom he 
     died to give him.

  On an Internet website honoring our Nation's fallen service men and 
women, Ben Biskie's sister-in-law Ginger tried her best to express her 
feelings and her gratitude. She wrote the following:

       Ben--you are always on my mind. I've been thinking about 
     you a lot lately and everything that I wish I could say to 
     you. Most importantly of all is thank you. Thank you, Ben, 
     for fighting for our freedom. Thank you, Ben, for making my 
     sister so happy and for giving me the greatest nephew anyone 
     could ask for. Thank you, Ben, for all of the lessons you 
     have taught me, even if I didn't see the entirety of them 
     until after you were taken from us. Thank you, Ben, for 
     coming to visit me in my dreams on days when you know I need 
     you the most. You are a true hero who will never be 
     forgotten.

  Indeed, we will always remember Benjamin Biskie. He was a devoted 
husband, a doting father, and a selfless soldier, who dedicated his 
life to helping people he did not know while protecting those he loved 
at home. On that Christmas Eve in 2003, our Nation lost a great man.
  I would like to close with the words of Ben's wife, Marcie. Knowing 
how much her husband loved her and their son, she said the following:

       I don't know where our lives will take us now, but I know 
     that wherever that may be, we'll have an angel following, 
     keeping an eye out for his little boy. [Ben] was a true hero.

  Sgt Benjamin Biskie will live on in the hearts and minds of all those 
who knew him. His family remains in our thoughts and prayers.


              Marine Lance Corporal Michael J. Smith, Jr.

  Mr. President, I today pay tribute to a fellow Ohioan and true 
American hero. Marine LCpl Michael Smith, Jr., was killed on April 17, 
2004, in Al Anbar Province, Iraq. Michael was coming to the aid of his 
Sergeant who had been shot. Michael was just 21 years-old.
  In his brief 21 years on this earth, Michael Smith, Jr., touched 
countless lives. Described as outgoing and personable, Michael's 
grandmother Alice once said that her grandson could ``walk into a room 
and no one was a stranger to him.'' Everyone loved him.
  Michael spent his youth crossing the Ohio River between Wellsburg, 
WV, where his father lived, and Wintersville, OH, where his mother 
resided. Known as the ``funny little redheaded kid,'' Michael and his 
cousin were partners in crime who loved to play pranks and revel in 
what many called their ``offbeat sense of humor.'' Though they loved to 
play tricks on people, cousin, Amy White, noted that Michael was a 
``really sweet kid. He was the kind of kid who would do anything for 
you.''
  Michael would carry this reputation throughout his life. He attended 
Brooke High School in Wellsburg, where he was a diligent student, 
gifted athlete, and an active participant in school clubs--including 
one tasked with discouraging fellow teens from using drugs and alcohol. 
On the high school football team, Michael earned the nickname ``All-
Purpose Smitty'' because he could play any position. Michael was also a 
volunteer firefighter for the Bethany Pike Fire Department in West 
Virginia, which he formally joined when he was 18 years-old.
  Ernestein Gorby, a guidance counselor at the high school, once 
remarked that ``[Michael] was a very pleasant young man--kind of what I 
would call the `solid citizen,' the person who you'd want to be your 
next-door neighbor. He was reliable. He was serious about school.''
  After high school, Michael wanted to take the next step and help his 
country. When he was 17, he urged his mother, Marianne, to support his 
decision to enlist in the U.S. Marine Corps. Though she was hesitant, 
Marianne knew that her son would follow his own path. And so, on 
February 9, 2001, Michael enlisted. Marianne instantly found it ironic 
that her freckled redheaded son was stationed at sunny Twentynine 
Palms, CA, with the rest of the 3rd Battalion, 7th Marine Regiment, 1st 
Marine Division.
  Michael was first deployed to Kuwait and then Iraq in January 2003, 
and was part of the original advance on Baghdad. He then returned to 
the United States in September 2003, to do something he had been 
planning for almost a year--and that was to marry Alicia, his high 
school sweetheart.
  Alicia and Michael had been friends since the fifth grade. That 
friendship eventually grew into a romance, and the two were married on 
October 11, 2003. Alicia described her husband as an incredible man and 
a wonderful father to her young daughter Elizabeth. ``He's always been 
my hero,'' she said, ``[and] an amazing husband, my best friend, and a 
remarkable daddy to Elizabeth.''
  In February 2004, Michael was called back to Iraq. Shortly after 
being redeployed, Alicia called with the news that she was pregnant. 
Tragically, Michael never had the chance to meet his son, who was born 
on October 16, 2004, 6 months after Michael's death. One day before he 
died, Michael was able to talk to Alicia via satellite phone. Alicia 
said that ``he just called to tell me he loved me with all his heart 
and soul.''
  Michael was loved by all those who met him. When he died, the entire 
community felt the loss. As he attempted to describe his son to 
reporters, Michael's dad, Michael Smith, Sr., noted that ``there's not 
enough tape in the cameras or time in the world [to do that].''
  The service for LCpl Michael Smith was held at Grace Lutheran Church 
in Steubenville, OH--the same church where Michael was baptized, 
confirmed, and married. Church members remember Michael as a moral 
guide--``a man who inspired them with laughter, love, and quiet 
leadership.'' Pastor Bethel Bateson recalls that on Michael's last 
military leave, he walked through the church and thanked everyone for 
their prayers, their letters, and their packages.

[[Page 20645]]

  Those whom Michael thanked that day came back to the church to say 
goodbye. At the service held in Michael's honor, Pastor Bateson 
commented that it was the most difficult service over which she had 
ever presided, ``because that beautiful red-haired boy playing under 
the pews grew up to be an incredible man.'' She went to say that ``even 
though he was only 21, a lot of us really looked up to him. . . . He 
was so strong--physically strong--but so tender. He had a tremendous 
capacity for love.''
  I would like to close my remarks with the words of Marine Sgt Jason 
Long, who served as Michael's squadron leader. Following Michael's 
death, Sergeant Long wrote the following on an Internet tribute:

       My heart goes out to Michael's family. I send my deepest 
     regrets. I could always count on [Michael] to get the job 
     done if ever I wasn't around. He was a great man and Marine 
     and an exceptional artist, as well. He showed great bravery 
     in the face of the enemy. I only wish I was there with him to 
     keep him out of danger. I could always count on him to give 
     me a laugh when times were tough. We will meet again someday, 
     my fellow Marine.

  Mr. President, I know that Michael's fellow Marines and his family 
will forever cherish the memory of their comrade, son, brother, 
husband, and father. His tremendous capacity for love shaped their 
lives. We will never forget him.


                              Luke Petrik

  Mr. President, I come to the Senate floor this afternoon to pay 
tribute to a remarkable young man who died in defense of freedom. Luke 
Adam Petrik of Conneaut, OH, was killed on April 21, 2005, when his 
helicopter was shot down a few miles north of Baghdad, Iraq. He was 24 
years old.
  Luke was one of those special and courageous individuals, who spent 
his life defending others. At the time of his death, he was working for 
a private security company to provide protection to American diplomats 
in Iraq. Previously, he had served as a decorated Army Ranger, with 
tours in both Iraq and Afghanistan. After his work in security, Luke 
had hopes of rejoining the military as a Navy SEAL. Luke knew the risks 
and accepted the challenges of this life.
  Born on April 1, 1981, in Ohio, Luke knew from a young age that he 
wanted to live a life of adventure. As a young boy, he joined the Boy 
Scouts. Luke's Scout leader, and the man who would later serve as his 
high school principal, John Posila, remembers Luke as ``an exceptional 
kid and very, very intelligent. From the time Luke was in Scouting, he 
had an interest in the military.''
  In every aspect of his life, Luke sought out new experiences. His 
boyhood friend, Josh Brooks, said that ``you would get a million 
stories with Luke. Every time you hung out with him, there would be 
some kind of story.'' Along with memorable stories, spending time with 
Luke also meant that much laughter would ensue. Luke had a great sense 
of humor, according to everybody who knew him. Friends contend that 
there was no one who told worse jokes. He told jokes that were so bad, 
according to his friends, that you couldn't help but crack up. Although 
he was everything that you would expect from a future Army Ranger--
tough, disciplined, smart, and courageous--he was also riotously funny.
  Throughout his time at Conneaut High School, Luke knew that he wanted 
to serve in the military on the front lines. Upon graduation in 1999, 
he immediately enlisted in the Army and trained to join that elite 
fighting force, the Army Rangers. Given his discipline and desire, it 
is no surprise that he was successful. As a paratrooper in the 3rd 
Ranger Battalion, Luke joined in the hunt for Osama bin Laden in 
Afghanistan.
  Luke's experience with the Rangers was a perfect opportunity for him 
to demonstrate his extraordinary bravery and toughness--toughness that 
was legendary among his family and friends. Luke's stepfather, Eldridge 
Smith, remembers a remarkable story. While parachuting for a mission, 
Luke broke two bones in his foot. He was slated to be airlifted to a 
medical hospital in Germany for treatment. However, just before the 
plane was scheduled to leave with him, he walked away and hitchhiked 
across three countries to rejoin his company. You see, Luke felt a 
profound sense of duty and--broken foot or not--he would never abandon 
his mission or his men.
  Luke's experience in the military also revealed the way he lived his 
whole life, which was by a personal code of honor. Josh Brooks 
remembers his friend as a man of principle. On two separate occasions, 
Luke turned down--yes, turned down--a Purple Heart, saying he didn't 
deserve the award. Josh says that both that broken foot and Iraqi 
shrapnel he later took in his body would qualify him for the honor. But 
for Luke it was simple. Josh recalled, ``He didn't feel that he earned 
[the medals]. He did things his own way.'' Luke respected the medals 
and what they symbolized enough to refuse them.
  After having served two tours of duty in both Iraq and Afghanistan, 
Luke left the military in late 2003. After a brief period doing 
security work at a Virginia nuclear powerplant, Luke accepted an offer 
in 2004 to work for Blackwater Security Consulting. Blackwater 
specializes in providing security and support to the military, 
Government agencies, law enforcement groups, and civilians operating in 
hostile regions. Luke wanted to get back to work in Iraq, and 
Blackwater would give him that opportunity.
  While Luke was always full of stories, he was careful to focus on the 
good he was doing. He would rather talk about the good than the danger 
and destruction around him. His friend, Chuck Lawrence, had this to say 
about Luke's return to Iraq: ``I talked to him just about every day. He 
loved his job and had no regrets. He never regretted his decision to go 
over there [to Iraq]. He was doing what he loved.''
  Luke's mother, Diana Spencer, agreed, saying that ``he enjoyed his 
work. He was very focused, very patriotic, and felt he was protecting 
his country.''
  Luke's time at Blackwater whetted his appetite for more service in 
the military. He told his family in one of his last e-mails home that 
he wanted to become a Navy SEAL. His stepfather said that Luke ``missed 
special operations work [and that] he had a warrior's heart and had to 
do what he loved.''
  Tragically, though, Luke would not get the chance to become a Navy 
SEAL. On April 21, 2005, he boarded a helicopter flight bound for 
Tikrit. He was going there to provide security detail for American 
diplomats. His helicopter was shot down by insurgents a few miles north 
of Baghdad. Luke and the 10 other civilian passengers and flight crew 
were killed.
  A memorial service was held for Luke on Saturday, May 7, 2005, at the 
First United Methodist Church in his hometown of Conneaut. Pews were 
packed with mourners, from former schoolmates to friends, family, and 
his fellow Rangers. Atop the casket was an American flag and a flower 
arrangement reading ``Ranger.'' All those closest to Luke agreed that 
this was certainly fitting.
  His mother Diana tearfully recalled that a plaque that Luke received 
after his discharge from the Army Rangers summed up his character. It 
reads: ``To a friend, a mentor, and the living embodiment of the Ranger 
creed.'' As Diana put it; ``That says everything about Luke.''
  The service provided an opportunity for all of Luke's friends to 
reflect on how much he meant to them and how much he had taught them 
both through word and deed. Chuck Lawrence remembers his essential 
decency, saying that ``anyone who came in contact with Luke was better 
off for it. I never met anyone more genuine.'' Childhood friend, C.J. 
Welty says that ``Luke taught me [that] there is a lot to learn, and to 
do as much as you can in the short time [you have] here on Earth.''
  In observance of Arbor Day, the Conneaut Tree Commission hosted a 
tree planting ceremony at Malek Park Arboretum to honor local men and 
women serving in Iraq. A red oak tree was planted in Luke's memory. It 
serves as a symbol of life and strength. That is how Luke should be 
remembered--as a vital, happy young man.

[[Page 20646]]

  In a beautiful letter to me, Luke's stepfather Eldridge wrote that 
``I am having a life celebration for Luke and the way he lived his 
life, where the good memories will far outweigh the oppressive grief.''
  My wife Fran and I keep all of Luke's family and friends in our 
prayers. Luke Petrik will never be forgotten.
  I suggest the absence of a quorum.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. The clerk will call the roll.
  The assistant legislative clerk proceeded to call the roll.
  Mr. ALEXANDER. Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that the order 
for the quorum call be rescinded.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. Without objection, it is so ordered.

                          ____________________