In the Press...
APP Pg. 1 Article; Smith Speaks at POW/MIA Ceremony in Ocean Co.'An empty seat, and a sister's tears, behind home plate'The Lakewood BlueClaws set aside a permanent, empty seat to honor America's POWs and MIAs.BY SHANNON MULLLEN, APP STAFF WRITER - Jan Buttler couldn’t help thinking how much her brother Ron would have enjoyed being at a ballgame like the one played here Thursday. Balmy and breezy, it was the perfect night for baseball. The setting sun sent shafts of golden light and long, creeping shadows across the field, and from behind the scoreboard in centerfield, a low, slow full moon began to rise. Buttler, 69, of Lake Como, had come to FirstEnergy Park to honor her brother, an Air Force navigator who disappeared in North Vietnam on Nov. 24, 1967. As other stadiums and teams across the country have done recently, the Lakewood BlueClaws were unveiling a special, permanent tribute to America’s POWs and MIAs: a solitary, empty seat, set off by itself on the concourse behind home plate. RELATED: Killed in Action flag takes a step forward “This is just a solemn reminder — not just to veterans organizations but to all Americans — that we do not want these people forgotten, and we will not let them be forgotten,” said Ray Miller, 71, an executive committeeman with the Ocean County American Legion, which coordinated the event. More than 82,000 U.S. service men and women remain unaccounted for since World War II. Air Force Capt. Ronald Mayercik, Buttler’s brother, is among the 1,618 still missing from the Vietnam war, 42 of whom are from New Jersey, according to the U.S. Defense POW/MIA Accounting Agency.
EARLIER: For Veteran's Day, table set for soldiers still missing U.S. Rep. Chris Smith, R-New Jersey, who spoke at the pre-game ceremony, said the vast majority of those missing served during the Second World War and are presumed dead, since the United States has had access to those battlefields since the fighting ended. That's not the case with Vietnam and North Korea. In addition to those missing in Vietnam, some 7,800 Americans who served in the Korean war are still unaccounted for, he said. Among them are hundreds of military personnel from New Jersey. “I've been to Vietnam three times on POW/MIA missions, and it's been very hard to get an accounting from the Vietnamese government, and the North Koreans won't even talk to us,” Smith said. Smith called the empty POW/MIA chair — an idea first championed by the Rolling Thunder motorcycle club — “a tangible exhibit of devotion.” “This is a very, very important thing for all of our people … especially our young people, to see,” he said.
As powerful a symbol as it is, monuments can only convey so much. The tears Buttler shed during the ceremony, on the other hand, speak volumes. She and her brother grew up in Edison, where Ron developed an early fascination with flying, earning his pilot’s license at age 16. An ROTC student, he attended aviation school at St. Louis University and entered the Air Force after graduation. He was nearly through his tour when the military lost track of his aircraft over Laos during a reconnaissance mission. His family never heard from him again. Not knowing whether he was alive or dead weighed heaviest on her parents, Buttler said. Both have since died. Buttler said she gained insight into their daily anguish when she read her mother's diary. “No one will ever know the hell I’m in,” she’d written. “Her last words before she died were, ‘Maybe I’ll find out what happened to your brother,’” said Buttler, a psychiatric nurse practitioner with the the Monmouth County Corrections Department. About eight years ago, a Vietnamese farmer found Ron’s dog tags, which were eventually returned to Buttler, his only sibling. Ron’s plane has been located, as well, impacted into the side of a mountain in what was North Vietnamese territory during the war. But Tom Engkilterra, regional coordinator for the National League of POW/MIA Families, an advocacy group based in Falls Church, Virginia, said a highly specialized repelling team is needed to recover any remains. “Ron’s case should have been resolved long ago,” he said. Buttler and Engkilterra met each other at the league’s annual meeting several years ago and felt bonded immediately: He was wearing a POW/MIA bracelet bearing her brother’s name. On Thursday evening, they stood solemnly side by side during the chair dedication, held behind Section 109.
“I think it's fabulous,” Buttler said of the symbolism of the empty chair. “It does my heart good to see it's not just me and my family and the National League that remembers these men.” Her brother would be 71 today. After nearly 49 years, she was asked, is there still some part of her that dares to hope that her brother might still be alive? In answer, her eyes welled, and she nodded her head. |