When I released a pseudo-memoir that captured my experience as a junior enlisted person in the Coast Guard in 2018, I knew I’d be sacrificing a few friendships and endangering my career. The book was full of asshole teenagers, drug use, callous officers, maleficent missions, and immoral authority – so of course I would receive harsh criticism. What I did not expect was the praise, the expressions of understandings, the subtle offerings of thanks, and Laurie Powell. Within six months after publishing my book, “Shipmates: Before the Mast,” I was surrounded by a network of disgruntled Coasties and their loved ones. When Laurie reached out to me, I was simply caught off guard.
How could I contaminate this woman’s story with my own? What right do I have to interact with a dead hero’s mother? (And to be clear, Travis Obendorf does indeed meet the criteria to be a hero, even if that meeting is in a world where the term “hero” is abused by most leaders and politicians.) I was confounded to say the least. And I told Laurie as much.
We crafted terms for our communication. I’d hear Laurie out and I’d leave my journalistic pad at home. By the end of our first phone conversation tears were falling for Laurie.
Mrs. Powell is strong. She is quietly spoken until she is mad. She crafts emotions into objects she discusses poetically and even mails them to you for the holidays. Her world revolves around two things: beauty-love and grief. After months of communications with Laurie, I promised her I’d help her with anything needed, including publishing her book.
The communications slowed as time went on. I probed Laurie with an email, and her response made me take the day off work, sit on my porch, and question the meaning of it all. I was sad. I was sad for Laurie. I was disappointed with this world we live in, existentially and socially.
By November of last year (2020), Laurie turned up the heat a bit. She found a second ghost writer who was about to send her a completed book by December 1st. The book would review her son’s life and the different elements that surrounded his death – before and after. I knew that Laurie had some harsh things to say about the Coast Guard, and I knew her story would be honest and heartfelt. When she told me she could not find a publisher and was having trouble self-publishing, I offered my services.
December 1 arrived and so did Laurie’s phone call. The book wasn’t ready. The manuscript was a bunch of non-flowing statements. There was no narrative. There was no organization. The ghost writer hadn’t even bothered to proof read his own material. Laurie had lost a second ghost writer and the money that went with and still had no product. In the meantime, I had offered 80 hours to Laurie, to help get the book available to the public. I was committed to this project, regardless. So I once again offered my services: “Let me rewrite what you have.”
Over the next 30 days Laurie sent me over a thousand separate documents: witness statements, phone transcripts, FOIA requests, emails from the commandant, news clippings, photos, phone lists… As I waded through the material I saw exactly what Laurie had seen this entire time. For seven years she knew her son did not have to die. His death was the result of unwise and unethical decision making. It was the result of financial bargaining, publicity stunts, and individual-promotional endeavors.
I went over my committed 80 hours…
If you have a connection to the US Coast Guard, to grief, to a mother’s love, or to military scandal, take a read. Laurie’s story should be heard. Her son’s story should be heard.
