http://www.boston.com/dailyglobe2/081/metro/Maine_town_remembers_boy_who_grew_up_flying+.shtml Maine town remembers boy who grew up flying
By Sarah Schweitzer, Globe Staff, 3/22/2003
KOWHEGAN, Maine - Major Jay Aubin wanted little else from the time he was a boy soaring in the bush planes his father piloted over the wilds of Maine.
Flying was a singular dream, one that would lead the Skowhegan native to enlist in the military and ultimately to the sandy stretches of Kuwait, where he died Friday in a helicopter crash.
Aubin, a 36-year-old husband and father of two, was among four Marines and eight British commandos killed in a helicopter crash 9 miles from the Iraqi border, the first allied casualties of the war that has since claimed more US lives.
Among the American fatalities in the crash was Corporal Brian Kennedy, who grew up in the Chicago suburb of Glenview but whose mother and stepfather have made their home in coastal Maine for five years.
Authorities have said there was no hostile fire on the CH-46 Sea Knight chopper and the cause of the crash is under investigation, though indications suggest it was an accident.
For a man like Aubin who believed wholly that war in Iraq was right and necessary, his death so early in the conflict and without confrontation with the enemy seemed a painful irony to his family.
''He had ideals and he was going to put his life on the line for the world,'' said his stepmother, Carol Aubin of Bangs, Texas. ''The sad fact is that war was just starting - we were just 23 hours into it.''
''In the end,'' she said ruefully, ''maybe it will be over in two or three days.''
The deaths of two men with ties to Maine rippled through the state, echoing earlier news during the war in Afghanistan when Air Force Master Sergeant Evander Earl Andrews, a native of the central Maine town of Solon, was the first US soldier to die in the campaign against terrorists that opened in October 2001.
In Skowhegan, a town of nearly 9,000 where Jay Aubin played high school football and baseball and was voted student of the year as a senior by teachers, churches made calls early yesterday asking parishioners to pray for his family, a well-known clan with French-Canadian roots whose Sunday night dinners each week rank on the order of Thanksgiving feasts. Many of Aubin's relatives still live in Skowhegan, while his mother lives in the nearby town of Winslow.
Paula Dore said Aubin's aunt, a co-worker, had been talking about her nephew all week, saying she was so proud of him being overseas.
''Your heart breaks when you hear about the casualties,'' Dore said. ''But when it is one of you hometown boys, it is unbelievable.''
Word of the fatal crash reached Aubin's family first through morbid guesswork. They saw news reports on television of a downed helicopter in Kuwait, the type they knew Aubin flew.
''We were like, `What are the odds?''' said his aunt, Lynn Aubuchon of Madison, a neighboring town. ''But it was his.''
Family members describe Aubin, the eldest of three boys whose cheeks dimpled deeply when he smiled, as a straight arrow, the sort who never drank or smoked, who pursued a plan seemingly mapped from birth.
''He loved aviation,'' said his father, Thomas Aubin, who piloted planes out of Greenville, ferrying forestry workers to remote spots. He often strapped his son into the seat beside him from the time the boy was 2.
He recalled his son sitting on the tires of airplanes he was trying to sell, just 4 or 5 years old, doing little good for the cause as he ticked off the planes' problems to potential buyers.
''I had to tell him, `Don't tell them everything that's wrong with the airplane,''' said Aubin, who moved with his wife to Bangs, about 75 miles south of Abilene, a few years back. ''He knew about as much about planes as any guy many times his age.''
When Jay Aubin graduated from high school in Skowhegan, he wanted to go to college, but money was short and the military beckoned.
He enlisted in the Marines and served four years, based in California, where he worked as a helicopter mechanic. There he met his wife, Rhonda, a fellow Marine. The pair had two children, Alecia, who is 10, and Nathan, 7.
Aubin returned to Maine for school, graduating from Southern Maine Technical College in South Portland with an associate's degree in machine tool technology, then earning his bachelor's degree from the University of Southern Maine in Portland in 1993.
At the end of schooling, without hesitation, he reenlisted in the Marines, this time as an officer headed to flight school in Pensacola, Fla., family members said.
''He was so delighted,'' said his uncle, Peter Willette. ''When he left the Marines to go to school, he was so lost. Being in the military was a dream that he stepped into with open arms.''
Aubin would go on to serve in Japan, flying helicopters into East Timor during the political unrest there, his father said. He came home to Maine this past summer and spent several weeks with his family before moving West to train pilots in Yuma, Ariz.
Shortly before shipping out to Kuwait earlier this year, Aubin told family members that he'd been tapped to pilot the helicopter used by President Bush.
But first, he said, there was another mission he had been called to answer.
''He said it was real important, and he had to go,'' said Willette. ''He was ready and energized. He said it was something that had to be done.''
Globe correspondent Meadow Rue Merrill contributed to this report.
It was Jay Aubin's mother who called into NBC yesterday and was interviewed by Tom Brokaw. Few who saw it will forget it.
http://www.oregonlive.com/living/oregonian/peter_carlin/index.ssf?/base/living/1048164908318790.xml On NBC, anchor Tom Brokaw spoke on the telephone to Nancy Chamberlin of Winslow, Maine. Her son, Marine Capt. Jay Aubin, was one of the first American soldiers to die in the conflict.
Brokaw greeted her gently, telling her how hard it must be on this, the darkest day of her life. She thanked him, sounding sad but remarkably composed. Her strength, it seemed, did something to Brokaw.
"The country deserves to know about Jay," he said, his voice starting to fray.
So she spoke, recalling how she couldn't afford to send her son to college, so he signed up for the Marines and fell in love with the service. "When he left he reminded me that . . . if he died he would die doing what he absolutely loved and believed in."
Brokaw was sitting with four of NBC's military analysts, a star-spangled array of retired generals and admirals. They're tough guys, accustomed to talking about war in terms of strategy, ordnance and duty. But the words of this woman, her courage in the face of tragedy, shattered their steel. Or maybe it just revealed their molten core.
Gen. Barry McCaffrey wept openly, dabbing his eyes with a handkerchief. Lt. Gen. Michael Short, on the other side of the desk, also cried, while Adm. Dennis McGinn stared grimly forward, his eyes dark and pained.
Speaking directly to Brokaw, Chamberlin said she admired all he and his TV news colleagues were doing to bring news of the war home to America.
"But for mothers and wives it's murder," she said. "It's heartbreak. We can't leave the TV, because with every tank and every helicopter, you're thinking: Is that my son?"
Was she criticizing the blanket coverage? Or just expressing the helplessness of being half a world away from a child in mortal danger? It wasn't clear. It didn't matter.
"I just need you to be aware that . . . there are moms, dads and wives out there suffering because of this. That's all. That's why I'm doing this."
After she hung up, Brokaw and his team of military brass tried to compose themselves. When he could speak again, Brokaw looked into the camera and spoke directly to his audience.
"Just because you don't have someone directly involved doesn't mean you're not involved," he said. "No matter how you feel about how we got involved in this war, we all have obligations to each other."
