PORTLAND, OREGON
July 3, 2003

A Father Gets His Wings; A Daughter Gets Life, A Legacy, A Purpose

By Margie Boule
Oregonian Staff Writer

We all make promises that fall by the wayside.

But in 1998, Stephanie Hanson stood before the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall in Washington, D.C., and made a promise to her father, a man she'd never heard of until she was 26, a man who died in Vietnam in 1969 not knowing his girlfriend back in Oregon was pregnant with his child.

On that day in 1998, Stephanie stood before the etching of Gary Norman Young's name in the long memorial wall and promised her father she would see his dream was realized. "I wrote him a letter I left at the wall. I said, 'You didn't know about me, but I promise, no matter what, I will get your wings awarded.' "

She had no idea how long, and how difficult, her task would be.

Gary Young was killed Feb. 6, 1969, on his first day of medical evacuation work in Vietnam. Gary was a medic attached to a Marine helicopter squadron called the Purple Foxes, one of the most decorated units in Vietnam. Medics volunteered for the medevac missions, putting themselves in harm's way to help injured Marines.

After Gary's death, his grieving sweetheart gave birth and relinquished the girl for adoption. Stephanie grew up happy and secure in her adoptive home. It was only after her doctor asked for a medical history, in 1995, that her adoptive dad persuaded her to find her biological parents.

Stephanie met her birth mother, who gave her a newspaper clipping about Gary's death. Gary's family welcomed her and gave her Gary's letters written from Vietnam. In those letters, Stephanie read of his dream of earning his combat wings.

Hungry to learn more about her father, Stephanie began making contact with every Purple Fox she could find who'd served in Vietnam. She learned the circumstances of Gary's death: The helicopter he was riding in was hit by enemy fire and crashed.

Stephanie made contact with men who'd served with Gary, with the man who'd evacuated Gary's body, with a survivor of the crash.

Stephanie was amazed to receive a copy of the helicopter pilot's logbook, that last day, from the pilot's sister. "For the first time I found out Gary had flown seven missions on that day," his first in medevac. "We had been told he was killed on his first mission."

It took medics five missions to earn wings. "I realized, my gosh, Gary did earn his wings."

Stephanie's visit to the Vietnam Memorial wall, and her promise to her father, came soon after.

She thought it might take a few letters to get Gary his wings. It took five years, countless letters, collection of testimony from witnesses to Gary's death, and the successful effort to get current Purple Foxes, based at Camp Pendleton in California, on her side.

Finally, last November, Stephanie flew to Florida for a Purple Fox reunion and was shocked when a three-star Marine general, who'd flown from Washington, D.C., just for the ceremony, stood and presented Stephanie with her father's wings. At last.

When she returned to Oregon, Stephanie had one set of the wings framed in a shadow box. She made copies of photos of her father and of his official medal certificates.

And five weeks ago, on Memorial Day, Stephanie returned to the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C. This time as she approached the memorial wall she was not alone. In a special service, Stephanie marched to the wall behind a color guard, flanked by two Marines. Behind them, a chaplain carried a wreath. In the distance a bagpipe played.

They stopped in front of Gary's name on the wall. "I bent down and put the wings and his pictures and the papers at the bottom of the panel." The man who died without knowing he had a child was honored by the daughter who'd never met her father. Hundreds watched in silence.

"I thought about the guys he'd been with. I thought about all the Purple Foxes, some of whom had just been killed in Iraq."

Then Stephanie stepped away from the wall and the chaplain laid the wreath. A bugler played taps. The Marines saluted.

After nearly five years, Stephanie had kept her promise. "It took a long time and was much more difficult than I thought it would be. But now it's done."

Still, Stephanie will never be finished with the new task she's set for herself: She now devotes a lot of time to helping Vietnam vets make contact with each other. She's also involved in the Foxy Ladies Society, founded by wives of Purple Foxes who served in Vietnam.

She has more time and energy to give to others, now that she's finished her own quest. "I finally got Gary his wings, and that's what he really wanted," she says. "He's given me so much. He gave me life, he left a great legacy, and he's given me purpose in my life. I feel like I finally gave him something back."