Iraq war’s most iconic images. But Golczynski, a junior goalie at DeMatha (Md.), still makes certain people know his father’s story: Marine Staff Sgt. Marc Golczynski was killed in Iraq in 2007. He was a loving father, fun to play and wrestle with and a great guy with a great sense of humor. And he left behind a son who has spent much of the past decade working to keep legacy alive. Each Christmas, Golczynski and his mother, Heather, carry out the mission of the A Soldier’s Child Foundation, adopt local families and send them gifts for holidays and birthdays. Sometimes those gifts even include lacrosse gear. Golczynski simply is paying forward the kindness he received during his first Christmas without his dad. After the photo started circulating and Golczynski’s story became known, Daryl Mackin made Golczynski the recipient of the foundation’s first gift. “You feel really alone,” Golczynski said. The gifts let him know people cared. “It felt heartwarming. People were there to help us when we needed it. We make sure people know we’re thinking of them.” Golczynski recently sent lacrosse sticks to the children of Army Capt. Brian “Bubba” Bunting. Lacrosse was Bunting’s
favorite sport.
Golczynski had never even heard of lacrosse when he moved to the D.C. suburbs from Tennessee seven years ago. He saw an ad in the paper, gave it a try and fell in love. Four years ago, his team needed a volunteer after its starting goalie got hurt. Golczynski stepped up and never looked back. “I ended up having more fun playing goalie than midfield,” Golczynski said.
At DeMatha, Golczynski carries another legacy, that of Navy SEAL officer Brendan Looney and Marine Corps officer Travis Manion, best friends and lacrosse players, who died in separate missions in Afghanistan and whose families worked to have them buried side by side at Arlington National Cemetery. Golczynski’s Twitter profile shows a picture of him, in front of their graves, with his arms outstretched. Quotes from Manion and Looney adorn DeMatha’s shooting shirts. From Manion: “If not me, then who?” From Looney: “Be strong, be accountable and never complain.” “It’s really cool knowing you’re playing for someone other than yourself out there,” Golczynski said. Of course, Golczynski never plays just for himself. He always plays for his dad.
Golczynski, pictured receiving the folded American flag at his father’s funeral in 2007 (left), now plays lacrosse at DeMatha (Md.). He visited the graves of the late Brendan Looney and Travis Manion at Arlington National Cemetary (above).
— M.M.
For Baker, a T6 paraplegic for more than two decades, lacrosse and sharing it go back to the sport’s Native American roots as a medicine game.
“Lacrosse isn’t going to make us get up and walk again,” Baker said. “But we sure do believe that when you play, there’s a healing element that’s involved.” Lacrosse remains a relatively new sport to Jacquet. He played for just one year in high school and practiced wall ball during his one year at Union. Learning the adaptive version of the game added another wrinkle. He recently played at the Shootout for Soldiers, a 24-hour lacrosse event benefitting wounded warriors, and hopes the sport will become a more permanent outlet for him in his post-military life.
***
On a late Wednesday this past August, Cpl. Adam Jacquet sat on a tan couch in his apartment in Arlington, Va., watching “Battlestar Galactica” on his iPad. In a few days, he would start his fall semester at Georgetown. He’s now 22. After retiring from the Marine Corps on Oct. 30, 2013, and leaving Walter Reed the next day, civilian life took some getting used to. He takes classes at night through Georgetown’s School of Continuing Studies. Days are full, but low key. Sometimes he’ll play with his 1-year-old puppy or make leashes and collars out of parachute cord. He likes to play Xbox, ride
laxmagazine.com
his bike and hang out at the pool in his apartment complex. On the surface, all might seem well with Jacquet. Dig
deeper, though, and you find he’s far from fully recovered.. “He is obnoxiously smart,” Ortiz said. “So he is very good at compensating and hiding deficits.” Jacquet has neurological issues. He’s uncharacteristically forgetful. Recently, Ortiz had to show him his own text message to prove the two had talked about making plans. Specific details are difficult for Jacquet to recall, something he realized when he started at Georgetown. Depression’s shroud still engulfs him. He calls it “a blue haze.” His apartment gets messy. He’ll stop working out. He just won’t care. Then there’s the organ damage. “That’s the part I think about as he ages,” said Ortiz, a longtime nurse.
Jacquet has kidney stone, retention and bowel problems. He also has frequent urinary tract infections. Despite everything, Jacquet forges forward. It’s what this experience – the explosion and everything after it – has taught him about life. “It’s never quite worth giving up,” he said. “It’s not because, ‘Oh, tomorrow is bright and better and it will be okay,’ because sometimes tomorrow to me is not better and okay. It’s just, you keep going just to prove to yourself and to prove to everyone else that yes, you can.” LM
November 2014 » LACROSSE MAGAZINE 45
COURTESY OF THE GOLCZYNSKI FAMILY
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