Muse explained that Michael and his team had been involved in an ambush. As Dan and Maureen processed the information they had received, Dan recalled his military training in Vietnam and asked if Michael’s team had been ambushed or if his team had executed the ambush. He knew that if Michael’s team had executed the ambush that they would have set the stage and environment in their favor—at night, with proper positioning and other tactical advantages. If they had walked into an ambush, that would not be good. Dan and Maureen continued to pray for the best but began to prepare themselves for the worst as the gravity and reality of the situation became more and more clear.
Around noon, Captain Andrew Bisset, a thirty-seven-year Navy SEAL veteran and Michael’s SEAL mentor, called to invite Michael to his upcoming retirement party in Groton, Connecticut. The family did not take his call; they believed it was another member of the media trying to get a family member on the telephone. Well acquainted with the family, Bisset was confused. He was aware of the situation in Afghanistan but did not know that Michael had been involved.
Sunday, July 3, 2005
Again having received very little sleep, the family attended morning Mass at Our Lady of Mount Carmel Catholic Church, led by Father Robert O’Connell. Special prayers were offered for Michael, his team, and the entire Murphy family. They were overwhelmed by the expression of support from the more than twelve hundred parishioners in attendance. Following Mass, Dan and Karen went to Heather’s home. The Navy had previously dispatched Lieutenant Jim Quattromani to stay with the Duggan family. While they were there, Heather received a telephone call from Marcus Luttrell’s younger brother Morgan, who stated, “Marcus is all shot up! Marcus is all shot up!” The news devastated Heather. Jim took the phone from Heather and continued the conversation with Morgan. Morgan provided no additional information about Michael or any other member of the team. This did not go unnoticed by Jim or Dan, who just looked at each other but said nothing. Dan resigned himself to the inevitable but remained mentally torn. As a prosecutor, he was used to looking at a set of facts, analyzing and organizing them together in a logical sequence, reaching a logical conclusion. A simple straightforward process he had done for many years. However, as a father, he could not bring himself to the logical conclusion the facts showed him. To do so was unthinkable.
Having returned to Maureen’s home and the nearly one hundred family members and friends gathered there, Dan and Karen repeated the previous day’s routine. Rosary prayer vigils were constantly held as family members and friends worked and prayed in shifts. Early in the afternoon it was announced that Marines had rescued Michael’s teammate Marcus Luttrell, and the names of the Navy SEALs and Army Night Stalkers killed on the helicopter were released.
Captain Bisset called again, but this time Maureen took his call, and after several questions she was satisfied that he was the “real” Captain Bisset. She told him of Michael’s status, and he took several seconds to regain his thoughts. He reassured her that Michael was well trained and that if anyone could make it, Michael could. Maureen agreed. Even though the family was mentally and physically exhausted, the prayers continued. At one point Dan’s sister Maureen noticed him with a set of rosary beads, the same rosary used by their mother when Dan was seriously wounded in the jungles of Vietnam thirty years earlier.
Monday, July 4, 2005
At about 2:00 PM, the family turned the television to CBS, as word had been received that there were news reports that two dead Navy SEALs had been recovered in Afghanistan. The family questioned Muse, who made an immediate phone call to NAVSPECWARCOM. Muse was told that the information being reported was not confirmed and that the Navy believed “someone was jumping the gun.” Dan and Maureen, now desperate for information and despite being warned by the Navy to the contrary, began paying increased attention to the news reports as it appeared that more information was available, despite the media’s reputation for releasing unconfirmed and sensationalized information as fact.
However, after the initial reports, there were no rebroadcasts or any additional information regarding the two Navy SEALs. Maureen became upset, voicing her concern that Michael and the others “could be seriously injured and bleeding to death and there is no one to help them. I don’t want Michael lying out there alone, bleeding and in pain. Someone needs to help those boys.”
Dan began to wonder if this was indeed a case of unconfirmed information being released, but this did little to affect his increased pessimism. As he intensified his silent prayers for Michael, he also began praying for Maureen, who visibly showed both the mental and physical strain of the ordeal. Although their family and friends continued to be optimistic in their conversations, Dan and Maureen both had consciously begun to accept what they believed was the inevitable, this being the sixth day since Michael’s team had come under fire. Beth and Heather returned to Mount Sinai, and Lieutenant Widenhofer returned to his apartment and wife in Queens.
The Inevitable
At about 11:00 PM, Muse made his usual late-evening call to NAVSPECWARCOM. This call was different. Dan knew that Muse’s usual routine was to go outside in the front yard, make his call, and then return within three to five minutes and report that there was no new information. Tonight was different.
After just a minute or two into the conversation, Dan saw Muse walk to the end of the tree line and stand along the road as he engaged in an extended conversation. Dan walked out onto the front porch to observe as the conversation continued for another twenty minutes. Dan knew that it was not good news and tried mentally to prepare himself for the worst.
After completing the call to NAVSPECWARCOM, Muse immediately telephoned Widenhofer and explained the situation. Michael Murphy had been killed in action. As the CACO, Widenhofer asked Muse to wait until he arrived to inform the family. Seeing Dan standing on the front porch, Muse explained that Dan had been watching him and that he could not go back into the house and not tell them what he knew. Both agreed, then Muse hung up. After informing his wife of the news, Widenhofer changed into his uniform for a quick and emotional trip to the Murphy home.
Muse took several deep breaths and then, with a lot of “self-talk,” walked back toward the house with his head down, desperately searching for the right words as he approached Dan. Dan yelled, “No, I’m not going to let you tell me what you have to tell me. No!”
“Mr. Murphy, I am so sorry.”
Dan, mentally and physically exhausted, began to walk away, but after a couple of steps he turned to Muse and said, “You are going to have to tell Maureen. I can’t do it; she has been through enough already.” Muse nodded his head and entered the house. Dan began pacing around the front yard and crossed the street to the bank’s parking lot, which was surrounded by a tall wooden fence. Muse found Maureen in the kitchen. She appeared mentally and physically exhausted. She looked up at him with her very tired blue eyes. His heart ached as he put his hand on her arm and said, “Mrs. Murphy, I am so sorry, but Michael didn’t make it.” Immediately her knees weakened as an unbearable stabbing pain deep inside her stomach took her breath away. She winced and fell back against the refrigerator. Muse braced her from collapsing. After about ten seconds she regained control and threw her hands up and said, “No. If Michael is not here, he is in a better place. He is not alone and he is no longer in pain and bleeding.” There were no tears—yet.
The word of Michael’s death immediately spread throughout the house. John heard the emotional cries and walked into the hallway just outside the kitchen. The crowd of people was so big that he was unable to see his mother or into the kitchen.
“What’s going on?”
James and Thomas Allmer, John’s cousins, embraced him and said, “I’m so sorry, man.” John instantly realized his brother’s fate. Stunned, he turned and walked slowly down the hallway and out the back door. James and Thomas followed him to the redwood table on the patio where he and Michael had spent many hours over the years hanging out and talking. He reminisced about
the years that he idolized his brother and how he had always looked after and protected him, how he had included him in many activities, such as swimming, lifeguarding, and social events, and how he had taken him to Penn State for a week when Michael was a student there and used him as a “chick magnet.”
Across the street in the parking lot, Dan yelled at the stars, “Life is so dammed unfair!” In anger and frustration as a constant stream of tears ran down his face, he punched the wooden fence over and over, alone with his thoughts.
Having brought John inside, Dan’s sister Maureen began to look for Dan. His fiancée, Karen, went out the front door and saw Dan punching the fence and yelling. She crossed the street and heard him talking incoherently. He did not respond to her repeated attempts to gain his attention. She noticed blood dripping from his hands, as well as the rosary he was holding.
Dan’s sister Maureen saw Karen leading Dan toward the house. She watched as he walked over to the trash can, lifted the lid, and threw something in, then walked toward the house. After Dan and Karen were inside, his sister went out and emptied the trash can onto the driveway, sorted through the loose trash, and retrieved the rosary beads.
After a hurried trip across Manhattan, Lieutenant Widenhofer arrived within forty-five minutes. After he entered the house he immediately expressed his condolences to Maureen and John, and sought out Dan, who was now on the back patio with several other family members. Hearing Widenhofer’s voice, Dan said, “I don’t want to talk to Jeff, I don’t want to talk to Jeff!” Widenhofer overlooked the outburst and expressed his condolences, then gave Dan some time to continue the grieving process.
Within minutes after Muse had delivered the worst possible news, he telephoned the Duggan home. Dan Duggan, Heather’s father, who served as the Mount Sinai police chief, took the call using the upstairs telephone away from Heather. Heather and Beth were busy in the kitchen downstairs, cleaning and getting ready to retire for yet another night of nerve-racking uncertainty. As her father came down the stairs, both Beth and Heather turned toward him. Seeing the redness of his face and the tears that streamed down his face, both knew. After Dan informed her of the news, Heather screamed and crumbled to the kitchen floor, sobbing uncontrollably.
Shortly after the Duggans learned the news, Michael’s friends Jay Keenan, James Emmerich, and Jimmie, Owen, Sean, and Kerri O’Callaghan arrived. Beth went outside to meet them, while Heather remained in the arms of her parents on the kitchen floor, unable to talk to visitors. Beth could tell that everyone had been crying, and at that moment reality sunk in. She just sat down on the driveway and cried. As the group slowly approached, each knew that life had changed for every one of them and would never be the same.
After nearly an hour of crying and sharing memories of the many good times they’d had with Michael, Jay Keenan, Jimmy, Owen, Kerri, Beth, Heather’s sister Brianne, and Jim Quattromani walked around to the Duggan’s patio deck. There they spent the next several hours telling more stories about Michael and the “good old days.” In the midst of their sorrow, they could still celebrate Michael’s life.
One of them began to tell a story that Michael was not particularly fond of. Just then it began to rain and they all laughed. They believed it was Michael’s way of getting them to stop telling the story. As soon as they stopped talking, the rain stopped. But soon the laughter subsided and the reality of Michael’s passing began to sink in. Each knew they were better for having known Michael.
Tuesday, July 5, 2005, Dover Air Force Base, Delaware
Early the next morning, Muse and Widenhofer explained that Michael’s and Danny Dietz’s remains had been recovered, but Matt Axelson was still missing. Michael’s and Danny’s remains would be escorted by SEALs from Bagram Airfield in Afghanistan to Landstuhl Regional Medical Center, the U.S. military hospital in Landstuhl, Germany, and then brought to the United States under an Air Force honor guard escort. The plane was scheduled to land at Dover Air Force Base, Delaware, at about five o’clock that afternoon.
Believing that Michael would know that his family was with him, the Murphys asked to meet the plane at Dover. Although families usually did not attend arrivals, Muse and Widenhofer made the necessary arrangements. John and Maureen Bogenshutz realized that neither Dan, Maureen, nor John was in any physical or mental condition to make the nearly 250-mile drive themselves and insisted on driving them to Dover. The Murphys agreed. Early in the afternoon, Dan, Maureen, and John left for Dover in the Bogenshutzs’ SUV, followed by Widenhofer and Muse. As it turned out, delays changed the plane’s arrival time to between ten and eleven o’clock. They all met with the Dover Air Force Base commanding general and a chaplain, who explained the procedure after the plane arrived and that Michael’s remains could not be returned to New York until all military matters, such as funeral arrangements and paperwork, were completed.
Back in Patchogue, the media had descended on Maureen’s home, where Sharon McKenna, Justice Cohalan’s secretary, and Karen handled the endless telephone inquiries. Dozens of media cameras, trucks, and personnel were set up in the front yard. Several members of the media went door-to-door and tried to get someone to make an on-camera comment. They got no takers, but neighbor Lance Marquis identified a yearbook picture of Michael. Lance called Dan and told him about the media onslaught, and Dan asked him to tell the media that the family would hold a media briefing at 10:00 AM the next day at Maureen’s home.
At approximately 10:00 PM the family, along with the general and the chaplain, were driven in an Air Force bus to the tarmac and positioned about thirty feet from the plane that had just arrived. The side door of the plane opened and they could see the Air Force Honor Guard that surrounded the flag-draped coffin inside. A hi-lo machine was raised into position. The Air Force escort turned and saluted, then slowly lifted the coffin and placed it on the machine. They saluted again and went back inside the plane. As tears streamed down their faces, Dan turned to Maureen and said, “Maureen, there’s our boy.”
Peace Be with You ... and Also with You
As Michael’s remains reached the ground, Maureen mentally pictured Michael getting up in his white dress uniform and walking over to them, putting his arms around them, and saying, “I’m home.” At the same time Maureen “saw” Michael approach, Dan was overcome by a sense of calmness and peace. He immediately turned to Maureen, who said, “Do you feel that?” Both acknowledged the sense of calm, as did John. Dan later described the moment: “It’s was like Michael touched us, it was such a sense of calmness ... and so unusual. It was something like I have never ever felt before ... it was like this real emotional moment ... there’s this anticipation ... this agitation ... there’s this anxiety, and then_just when Michael came level to the ground, within seconds this overwhelming sense of calmness and peace enveloped us.”
Maureen recalled, “It was such a calming experience, like I have never felt before. It was like I could picture when Michael’s casket reached the ground, he got up and walked over to us and put his arms around us and said, ‘It’s OK, I’m home now.’ I can’t begin to tell you how comforting that moment was to me ... to all of us.”
Four Navy honor guard sailors marched toward Michael’s coffin, saluted, and placed the coffin in the waiting ambulance truck, which drove slowly to the Charles C. Carson Center for Mortuary Affairs at the other end of the base. As described in his favorite book, Gates of Fire, by Steven Pressfield, Lieutenant Michael P. Murphy had returned home not carrying his shield, but on it, “because a warrior carries helmet and breastplate for his own protection, but his shield for the safety of the whole line. There is a force beyond fear. More powerful than self-preservation.”
After the truck left, all reentered the Air Force bus, still feeling peaceful and calm. As they took their seats, the Air Force chaplain, having heard Dan and Maureen’s comments, asked, “When did you feel this?” Dan and Maureen looked at each other and related their feelings, then the chaplain responded, “You know, it is not an uncommo
n occurrence. I can’t explain it, but the few families who come here seem to get the same effect. Those who don’t think spiritually find it difficult to explain.” Dan and Maureen were comforted by the fact that other families had received the same healing they had just experienced.
Michael’s Revenge
As they all sat in the bus, it refused to start. The general voiced his extreme displeasure to the unfortunate airman, who tried repeatedly to get the bus started. The Murphy family laughed, because Michael had always been mechanically challenged when it came to cars. “This is not the airman’s fault, it is Michael’s revenge for making such a big deal of him coming home.”
The family finally returned home, while Lieutenant Commander Muse and Lieutenant Widenhofer remained at Dover to coordinate funeral and transport arrangements with Maureen’s uncle, Eddie McElhone, who owned and operated the Clayton Funeral Home in Kings Park, across Long Island on the North Shore.
Wednesday, July 6, 2005
After a few hours of needed rest, Dan, Maureen, and John met with the press. Six television stations and forty to fifty members of the broadcast and print media had packed the front yard. Dan, an attorney, was accustomed to dealing with the media and with crowds. He spoke for the family, as John and Maureen were somewhat intimidated by all of the bright lights, the microphones, and the shouting of questions. He explained that they had been at Dover AFB as their son’s remains were brought back to the United States. After the briefing, several members of the media were invited into the home to photograph pictures of Michael. Generally, the members of the media were very sympathetic and supportive of the family. But the family did have one painful experience. A cameraman noticed a picture of Michael at his graduation from Officer Candidate School sitting on the large wooden shelf above the living room sofa. In order to properly get a picture without the glare of the glass, he placed the picture on the floor to shoot the picture at a straight angle. Maureen gasped and covered her mouth with her hand as tears streamed down her face.
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