AggieJohn
09-11-2006, 12:28 PM
link (http://sports-ak.espn.go.com/ncf/index)
COLLEGE STATION, Texas -- The acrid, awful, haunting smell of charred flesh still returns sometimes, without warning.
They're phantom smells, five years old, but that doesn't make them any less real to Mark Dodge. Same with the nightmares, which are less frequent now but no less jarring.
"Certain nightmares will always probably be there," Dodge said.
When you have been where Mark Dodge has been, seen what he has seen, smelled what he has smelled, you don't forget. When you have bagged incinerated bodies and carried them to a morgue truck, the experience lingers. When you have spent days raking through piles of debris for human remains -- sifting out the teeth and bones -- it stays with you.
"I don't think raking will ever be the same for him," said Dodge's mom, Toni Inserra.
On Sept. 11, 2001, 20-year-old Mark Dodge was at the Pentagon when it was struck by the hijacked American Airlines Flight 77. Shortly thereafter, Dodge's 3rd U.S. Infantry Regiment was part of the response team.
"I'm sad my son had to go through that," Inserra said. "I'm sad anyone had to go through that. At 20, we all take a lot for granted. I don't think he takes anything for granted now."
That's the perspective gained from going through hell. Monday, on the fifth anniversary of that tragedy, Mark Dodge believes he is a better man because of it. A stronger man. A more appreciative man.
"I've always thought you're put in places to make you a better person. Those things helped me mature in ways that I wouldn't have done otherwise. Just the respect for life. When you've seen death, you respect life."
-- Mark Dodge
"I've always thought you're put in places to make you a better person," Dodge said. "Those things helped me mature in ways that I wouldn't have done otherwise.
"Just the respect for life. When you've seen death, you respect life."
And you cherish the chance to live a dream, as a 25-year-old linebacker at Texas A&M.
Dodge's difficult path to College Station -- from a rocky childhood spent largely without his father to the military to the Pentagon on Sept. 11 and beyond -- has created a profound enjoyment of his current surroundings. The smell of grass and sweat and liniment is so much more comforting than the smell of death.
For Mark Dodge, perhaps more than for any other player in the country, college football is a beautiful thing.
"When you're on the field, everything else is gone," Dodge said. "I've been through a lot of stuff, but on the field everything's gone. It's my release point."
His discomfort is subtly evident.
Mark Dodge's gaze drifts away from my face and down to the floor. His right hand stretches the leg of his crimson shorts. He's no longer talking in first person, suddenly referring to himself as "you."
"You'd come across stuff you wish you wouldn't," Dodge said. "Stuff you couldn't imagine seeing."
Like most Americans, Tuesday, Sept. 11, 2001, began unremarkably enough for Dodge. As a member of The Old Guard, Dodge was part of an honor guard that often served at military funerals at adjacent Arlington National Cemetery, and at visits by foreign leaders to the nation's capital. He was at the Pentagon that morning to fill out paperwork for security clearance to the White House.
Pentagon on 9/11
Tom Horan/AP Photo
Smoke billows from the Pentagon after it was struck on Sept. 11.
He was in a mall area watching television footage of the World Trade Center attacks in New York when felt the building shake and, shortly thereafter, heard the alarms wail. When evacuating, he saw smoke billowing out of the building and realized something very bad had happened.
Dodge called his mom back home in Nevada to tell her he was OK, then hustled back to his base at Fort Meyer, less than a mile from the Pentagon. From there, The Old Guard was mobilized and sent to the scene of the attack.
Dodge's first job was to set up tents for the survivors. When the fires were put out in the building, he was sent in to search for survivors and recover the dead.
He'd find the corpses and call an FBI agent. The agent would inspect the remains and take notes, then Dodge and his fellow soldiers would bag the bodies and take them to the morgue truck.
At night the Old Guard worked patrol duty around the capital. The few hours of down time the soldiers experienced in the days after Sept. 11 were somber and silent.
"Nobody talked about it," Dodge said.
The suppressed trauma, he said manifested itself in nightmares. Dodge met with Army counselors and a chaplain to sort through his feelings, and eventually saw a psychologist for a brief time.
"He tried to deal with it the most healthy way he could," Inserra said. "We all have events that shape our lives. That will shape his forever."
It was in the aftermath of Sept. 11 that Mark Dodge decided he wanted to go to college. And he wanted to play football.
Dodge had played while growing up near Yerington, Nev., and loved it. But most of his life revolved around work on the family ranch, either farming alfalfa or showing heifers.
"It seemed like I was always working, non-stop," Dodge said.
Mark and his mom were almost inseparable, and he was very close to his grandmother, Jeannie Stillfield. His relationship with his dad, Howard Dodge, was another matter. Howard Dodge and Inserra divorced when Mark was 2.
"Me and my dad struggled growing up," Dodge said. "I didn't have a father figure there."
Said Inserra: "Only two years ago was the first time those two ever threw a football back and forth."
Sports became a refuge for Dodge as a child, and they became a refuge again in later life, while in the military. Dodge played flag football for a D.C. sports bar, and told his Army buddies that he was going to play college ball when his enlistment was done.
"He would go to the gym every day -- every single day -- on post," said David Jones, Dodge's closest friend in the Army. "He had a strict diet, too. He was totally committed to it. It kind of blew my mind."
COLLEGE STATION, Texas -- The acrid, awful, haunting smell of charred flesh still returns sometimes, without warning.
They're phantom smells, five years old, but that doesn't make them any less real to Mark Dodge. Same with the nightmares, which are less frequent now but no less jarring.
"Certain nightmares will always probably be there," Dodge said.
When you have been where Mark Dodge has been, seen what he has seen, smelled what he has smelled, you don't forget. When you have bagged incinerated bodies and carried them to a morgue truck, the experience lingers. When you have spent days raking through piles of debris for human remains -- sifting out the teeth and bones -- it stays with you.
"I don't think raking will ever be the same for him," said Dodge's mom, Toni Inserra.
On Sept. 11, 2001, 20-year-old Mark Dodge was at the Pentagon when it was struck by the hijacked American Airlines Flight 77. Shortly thereafter, Dodge's 3rd U.S. Infantry Regiment was part of the response team.
"I'm sad my son had to go through that," Inserra said. "I'm sad anyone had to go through that. At 20, we all take a lot for granted. I don't think he takes anything for granted now."
That's the perspective gained from going through hell. Monday, on the fifth anniversary of that tragedy, Mark Dodge believes he is a better man because of it. A stronger man. A more appreciative man.
"I've always thought you're put in places to make you a better person. Those things helped me mature in ways that I wouldn't have done otherwise. Just the respect for life. When you've seen death, you respect life."
-- Mark Dodge
"I've always thought you're put in places to make you a better person," Dodge said. "Those things helped me mature in ways that I wouldn't have done otherwise.
"Just the respect for life. When you've seen death, you respect life."
And you cherish the chance to live a dream, as a 25-year-old linebacker at Texas A&M.
Dodge's difficult path to College Station -- from a rocky childhood spent largely without his father to the military to the Pentagon on Sept. 11 and beyond -- has created a profound enjoyment of his current surroundings. The smell of grass and sweat and liniment is so much more comforting than the smell of death.
For Mark Dodge, perhaps more than for any other player in the country, college football is a beautiful thing.
"When you're on the field, everything else is gone," Dodge said. "I've been through a lot of stuff, but on the field everything's gone. It's my release point."
His discomfort is subtly evident.
Mark Dodge's gaze drifts away from my face and down to the floor. His right hand stretches the leg of his crimson shorts. He's no longer talking in first person, suddenly referring to himself as "you."
"You'd come across stuff you wish you wouldn't," Dodge said. "Stuff you couldn't imagine seeing."
Like most Americans, Tuesday, Sept. 11, 2001, began unremarkably enough for Dodge. As a member of The Old Guard, Dodge was part of an honor guard that often served at military funerals at adjacent Arlington National Cemetery, and at visits by foreign leaders to the nation's capital. He was at the Pentagon that morning to fill out paperwork for security clearance to the White House.
Pentagon on 9/11
Tom Horan/AP Photo
Smoke billows from the Pentagon after it was struck on Sept. 11.
He was in a mall area watching television footage of the World Trade Center attacks in New York when felt the building shake and, shortly thereafter, heard the alarms wail. When evacuating, he saw smoke billowing out of the building and realized something very bad had happened.
Dodge called his mom back home in Nevada to tell her he was OK, then hustled back to his base at Fort Meyer, less than a mile from the Pentagon. From there, The Old Guard was mobilized and sent to the scene of the attack.
Dodge's first job was to set up tents for the survivors. When the fires were put out in the building, he was sent in to search for survivors and recover the dead.
He'd find the corpses and call an FBI agent. The agent would inspect the remains and take notes, then Dodge and his fellow soldiers would bag the bodies and take them to the morgue truck.
At night the Old Guard worked patrol duty around the capital. The few hours of down time the soldiers experienced in the days after Sept. 11 were somber and silent.
"Nobody talked about it," Dodge said.
The suppressed trauma, he said manifested itself in nightmares. Dodge met with Army counselors and a chaplain to sort through his feelings, and eventually saw a psychologist for a brief time.
"He tried to deal with it the most healthy way he could," Inserra said. "We all have events that shape our lives. That will shape his forever."
It was in the aftermath of Sept. 11 that Mark Dodge decided he wanted to go to college. And he wanted to play football.
Dodge had played while growing up near Yerington, Nev., and loved it. But most of his life revolved around work on the family ranch, either farming alfalfa or showing heifers.
"It seemed like I was always working, non-stop," Dodge said.
Mark and his mom were almost inseparable, and he was very close to his grandmother, Jeannie Stillfield. His relationship with his dad, Howard Dodge, was another matter. Howard Dodge and Inserra divorced when Mark was 2.
"Me and my dad struggled growing up," Dodge said. "I didn't have a father figure there."
Said Inserra: "Only two years ago was the first time those two ever threw a football back and forth."
Sports became a refuge for Dodge as a child, and they became a refuge again in later life, while in the military. Dodge played flag football for a D.C. sports bar, and told his Army buddies that he was going to play college ball when his enlistment was done.
"He would go to the gym every day -- every single day -- on post," said David Jones, Dodge's closest friend in the Army. "He had a strict diet, too. He was totally committed to it. It kind of blew my mind."