SEAL of Honor

by Gary Williams

  On Permanent Station

  As Eddie concluded his prayers, he checked the casket for the final time and watched as he lowered it into the concrete vault below. United States Navy SEAL Lieutenant Michael P. Murphy was now at his earthly rest. A rest well earned and deserved, but as a Navy SEAL, he remains on permanent station “On point” in Section 67, Site 3710 in Calverton National Cemetery, along with 187,000 more of this nation’s military heroes.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Seeds of Greatness

  There is no cure for birth and death, save to enjoy the interval.

  —GEORGE SANTAYANA, quoted at QuotationsBook, www.quotationsbook.com/quote/10038 (accessed July 14, 2008)

  Daniel James Murphy, a successful young Suffolk County prosecuting attorney and decorated Vietnam War combat veteran, and Maureen Theresa Jones were married on April 12, 1975, in the Saint Francis DeSales Catholic Church in Patchogue. Located fifty-five miles east of Manhattan, on the South Shore of Long Island, New York, Patchogue is a predominately white, Catholic, blue-collar, working-class village of 12,000 descendants of primarily Italian, German, and—like Dan’s and Maureen’s parents—Irish immigrants.

  Dan and Maureen’s first child, described by the doctor as a “beautiful bald baby boy,” was born on May 7, 1976, and named Michael Patrick, after the archangel Michael, one of the principal fifty angels and viewed as the field commander of the Army of God. Michael appears in the book of Daniel as one who comes to Gabriel’s aid as the advocate of Israel and a “great prince who stands up for the children. ...”

  Dan and Maureen took Michael home to their two-bedroom, second-story apartment in Holtsville, New York, on Long Island, where Charlie, their very protective black, flat-coat retriever, awaited their arrival. Charlie became Michael’s constant companion over the next several years and kept a watchful and protective eye on him.

  It became very clear when he was a toddler that Michael loved the water. At a backyard cookout at Dan’s parents’ home, Maureen saw Michael, not even two years old, climbing the stairs of the four-foot-high swimming pool. She took off to grab him, but just as she reached the ladder, he jumped into the water. Frantic, Maureen climbed to the top and saw Michael underwater with a big smile on his face. She reached down and pulled him out. Trying not to scare him, she told him that he was not permitted in the water without his inflatable life jacket. As Maureen turned to retrieve the jacket, Michael jumped back into the pool, surfaced, and sloshed his way to the side with a big grin on his face.

  In December 1978, two-year-old Michael and his family moved into their newly built house on Old Medford Avenue. On their first day in their new house, Maureen took Michael upstairs and showed him his room. That evening, when Maureen was putting Michael to bed, he pointed to his diapers and said, “Not these, Mommy, not these. I’m a big boy.” Michael never wore diapers after that—and never had an “accident.”

  The following summer in June, while at the home of their next-door neighbors, Ralph and Kathie Belmonte, Michael bolted for the large in-ground swimming pool and jumped in before Dan could get to him. By the time Dan jumped in, Michael had surfaced and got to the other side of the pool using a rudimentary swimming motion. When Dan lifted him out of the pool, Michael turned around, raised his arms into the air, and flashed a large grin.

  Maureen frequently took him to the nearby Holtsville public pool and allowed him to frolic around in the baby pool. Although initially satisfied, he soon turned his attention to the larger pool. With his life jacket in place, Maureen took Michael into the pool with her, much to his delight.

  One day in the summer of 1979, Maureen and Michael were enjoying a walk in the park in Holtsville when they came upon the town’s diving pool. Michael bolted and began climbing the twelve-foot ladder. The lifeguard on duty frantically blew his whistle and began yelling at Michael to get down.

  Hurriedly, Maureen climbed the ladder and talked calmly to Michael, hoping to catch up to him before he fell. But Michael, who was very quick, reached the top of the ladder and, without the slightest evidence of fear, ran out onto the board before she could reach him. Ignoring his mother’s warnings, Michael jumped off the diving board, which immediately sent the lifeguard into the water. As Michael surfaced he again began his own particular swimming motion to the side of the pool. Unassisted, he reached the side, where the lifeguard lifted him out of the water. Michael stood proudly with a big smile on his face. Frightened by the experience, Maureen took Michael home, telling him, “We won’t be doing that anymore.”

  Michael was reared in a loving home by parents with a strong moral clarity and a directed sense of purpose. With a father who served as a local prosecuting attorney and extended family members who served as police officers, firefighters, and other public servants, Michael learned early the virtue of sacrifice and selfless service to others.

  As a toddler, Michael’s favorite book was Watty Piper’s The Little Engine That Could, a children’s story used to teach the value of optimism and hard work. Michael knew the story by heart, and would slowly stride from room to room acting like a train engine, saying, “I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.” After making the rounds through every room, he began running as fast as he could, saying, “I thought I could, I thought I could, I thought I could.” The lessons learned from this story carried Michael through some of the most challenging times in his life.

  Despite their best efforts, the young parents were frequent visitors to their doctor’s office and the local emergency room to have their active and fearless child treated for cuts and other accidental injuries. After several visits for stitches, Maureen asked, “Why is it always my kid?” Dan later related, “Thank God I was a prosecutor, because I am sure otherwise they would have thought this kid was being abused.”

  When Michael was age three, Dan’s youngest brother Brian was in the backyard chopping wood. Brian was the “black sheep” of Dan’s family. He was gregarious, but lacked considered judgment when it came to mature decision making regarding employment, his wife, and his two children. Maureen asked Michael to go to the edge of the patio and tell his uncle that lunch was ready. Instead of stopping at the edge of the patio, Michael went up to Brian, who didn’t notice him and accidently hit him with the butt of the ax and knocked him down, leaving a large, heavily bleeding gash above his right eye. Brian carried him into the house.

  When Maureen saw the gaping wound, she panicked, and excused herself to regain her composure as her sister tended to Michael. Maureen said, “I never panicked when it is someone else’s kid, but when it is mine, I just went to pieces.” Michael saw his mother crying and began wiping the blood from his face, saying, “It’s OK, Mommy, it’s OK, it doesn’t hurt. See, Mommy, it doesn’t hurt.” She was overcome with emotion at Michael’s sensitivity. Because the large, gaping wound obviously needing sutures, they made yet another trip to the hospital in nearby Smithtown.

  During the summer of 1982, Michael would sneak out of the house early on Sunday mornings while his parents slept. He and Charlie would walk next door to visit the Belmontes, who always had their Sunday breakfast on the back patio. As Michael approached the Belmontes, he would say, “My mommy and daddy won’t feed me breakfast. Can I have one of your bagels?” As they laughed, they pulled out a chair for him and served him a toasted bagel with lots of butter and a glass of milk, Michael’s favorite. This soon became a ritual for young Michael throughout the summer, and one that the Belmontes soon joyfully came to expect. After a couple of weeks, the Belmontes told Dan and Maureen of Michael’s Sunday morning ritual. Although embarrassed, his parents got a big laugh at the tale.

  Canaan Elementary School

  Excelling in all of his academic subjects, Michael was an outgoing and likable student. He was a voracious reader, and would often read the same book several times—a practice he never outgrew.

  A natural athlete, Michael played soccer in the first and second grade. At age six, he began playing T-ball with Dan as his coach. T
wo years of “B” ball and three years of “A” ball followed. In the fifth grade, he earned the coveted white belt that signified his position as a member of the Safety Patrol.

  Dan’s friend Tony Viggiano, who was connected with the local Sachem Athletic Club, asked Dan about enrolling Michael to play football. When asked, Michael jumped at the opportunity. At Tony’s insistence, Dan agreed to be the team’s coach, although he readily admitted he knew nothing about coaching football. Tony insisted that all Dan needed to do was to design a few simple plays and things would be fine.

  After a few practices and several scrimmages against other teams, Michael displayed genuine athletic ability, speed, and throwing accuracy, and became the starting quarterback for the Sachem Wolf Pack in the Sachem Youth Football Club, sponsored by the Suffolk County Police Athletic League. On the very first play from scrimmage of the first game, Michael dropped back to pass the ball and was grabbed by the face mask and thrown to the ground. Witnessing the play, Dan immediately ran onto the field. Dan saw the referee throw his flag and approached him, saying, “Good, you saw that!” The referee told Dan that the penalty was against him, because the coach was not permitted to run onto the field. Michael ran over to his father and said, “Dad, you’re not supposed to be out on the field. I’m OK.” Dan and Michael laughed as the referee walked off the fifteen-yard penalty.

  Of course, this being New York, street hockey was another of Michael’s favorite sports, frequently and spontaneously organized by his neighborhood friends in any empty driveway or parking lot, an activity that he would continue into his middle-school years.

  One evening, when Dan believed Michael was asleep, he began working on a gruesome murder case that he was trying. He laid out some large and very graphic color photos of the case and was absorbed in reviewing them. Suddenly Dan heard Michael ask, “Hey, Dad, is that chicken?” Dan immediately tried to cover the pictures with a newspaper. However, after a few seconds, Michael realized what the pictures were, turned very pale, and immediately vomited all over the pictures. Feeling guilty, Dan apologized and tried to calm Michael by talking with him about why he had the pictures and telling him that he was trying to convict the “bad guys who did such a terrible thing to that poor man.”

  During the summer of 1983, when he was seven, Michael was out in the front yard playing with some friends when his mother heard the loud screeching of a car hitting its brakes. Terrified, Maureen ran outside and saw Michael lying in the road about five feet in front of the stopped car. As Maureen screamed and ran for the road, Michael slowly got up clutching a small dog, which had escaped without a scratch. The driver, visibly shaken, got out of the car, and as she and Maureen reached Michael, they saw that he was no worse for wear other than a few abrasions on his arms, legs, and forehead. Frantically they asked him what he was doing. “This little dog ran into the street and was about to get run over, so I ran out and grabbed him.” Later that evening at the dinner table, Michael admitted, “It was pretty scary. All I could see was those big black tires coming right for my head.”

  Michael was nurtured in an extended family of dedicated public servants and also benefited by his mother’s acute sense of compassion toward others. Even at a young age he began to take a keen interest in protecting and helping other people, especially those he viewed as weak or being taken advantage of.

  Dan’s brother Brian always seemed to be down on his luck and frequently called to ask Dan for money to help his wife and infant daughter. Although he frequently wasted the money on beer and cigarettes, Dan always provided him with $20 to $40. Michael was now old enough to understand his uncle’s wayward habits and their consequences.

  One day, after his uncle had left the Murphy home with yet another $40 of his father’s hard-earned money, Michael asked Dan why he continued to give away money when he knew that Brian would probably “just blow it.” Dan explained that while he would indeed probably just blow it, Brian was his brother, and he would never turn away someone who genuinely needed help, especially family.

  Young Michael never forgot that conversation, and by the time he left Canaan, he had internalized the school motto: “With the courage of a lion, always do the right thing.” This motto was a frequent motivator throughout his life.

  Saxton Middle School

  Michael continued to clearly demonstrate his academic excellence throughout his middle-school years. It was during that time that his parents also began to see the development of his natural-born leadership qualities, his maturity, and his sensitivity toward others. Maureen later recalled that when she arrived for her first parentteacher conference with Michael’s new sixth-grade teacher, Mr. Schwab, he said, “Michael Murphy, yes. A great young man. Listen, I’ve been teaching for nearly thirty-five years, and this kid is really something. Mark my words, he is going to make his mark someday.”

  During middle school, Michael continued to play football and organized baseball, having moved to the “major leagues” with the bases now ninety feet apart instead of the previous sixty feet. At first Maureen and Dan worried that Michael’s running ability had markedly decreased until they learned that the distance between bases had been increased.

  Michael began to internalize his father’s frequent mantra that “adversity builds character.” In fact, Maureen remembered that on one particular occasion when Michael had suffered yet another injury that required medical treatment, he said, “Mom, I’ve had enough character building. I would like for things to go right for a change.”

  Through his father’s career as a prosecuting attorney, Michael was able to see both the good and bad in people, and that even “bad” people can do good things while “good” people do bad things. One case that really affected young Michael involved a young man his father was prosecuting for a string of burglaries. Dan had a sense that this was indeed a case of a good person who got caught up in a bad situation, and that if given the opportunity, the young man would make amends and live a good, honest life.

  Although the young man clearly could have received a jail sentence, Dan explained to Michael why he was going to recommend probation, community service, and restitution. Several years later the young man came to the Murphy home and thanked Dan for his understanding and leniency. He said that he had opened his own shoe-repair business in a nearby town and was a successful businessman, and offered to provide free shoe-repair service for the family. That episode stuck with Michael. He subsequently and inherently believed the best in people and always gave them the benefit of any doubt.

  On occasion Michael accompanied his father to work, where he was able to observe criminal court proceedings firsthand. One particular day, he watched his father argue before the United States District Court for the Eastern District of New York. After the long day in court, Michael asked his father if he had won or lost. Dan responded, “Michael, it’s not winning or losing so much as justice being served and the truth being decided.” That answer stayed with Michael and later appeared on his law school applications.

  In another instance, young Michael and his friend Paul received the results of a major examination. Young Paul was very proud of his score and told Maureen that he had received a 92. Maureen turned to Michael and asked how he had done. Michael answered, “Oh, I did OK.” Later that evening at dinner, the topic of school was discussed, and Maureen again asked Michael his score on the test. Michael responded that he had received a 96. When Maureen asked him why he did not mention his score when she had asked earlier, Michael responded, “Mom, Paul was so excited about his 92, telling him my score would have just thrown cold water on him, so I didn’t say anything. It was not that important.” Dan and Maureen just looked at each other and realized that Michael was much more mature than either of them were when they were his age.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “The Protector”

  The only correct actions are those that demand no explanation and no apology.

  —RED AUERBACH, quoted at Good Fortunes, www.goodfortunes.com/v/quote/s
orry.html (accessed March 5, 2008)

  At age ten, Michael’s protective instincts developed further with the birth of his younger brother, John. He was very excited when John was born, and he immediately took on the role of protective big brother.

  Because his father was politically active, young Michael was frequently around adults in a variety of business, political, and social settings. When Michael was twelve, the Murphy family took a summer vacation to Hersheypark in Hershey, Pennsylvania. At that time, Michael was very close to his cousin Tara Reidy, the daughter of Dan’s sister Gerri. Tara went along and stayed with them at the exclusive Hotel Hershey. Unaccustomed to large, expensive hotels, Tara was apprehensive. On their first day, the family went to dinner. All of the various forks, other silverware, and folded napkins made Tara quite anxious. She said she couldn’t eat because she didn’t know what to do with all the utensils. Michael leaned over and said, “Tara, don’t worry about it. You’re never going to see these people again; use whatever fork you want. It really doesn’t matter.” Tara looked anxiously at Michael, who just smiled and nodded his head. Tara returned the smile and became perfectly at ease. After that, Tara and Michael developed a close bond that remained for the rest of his life.

  While in the eighth grade, Michael saw a group of boys taunting a special-education child and trying to push him into a locker. Michael interceded and got involved in a fight with several of the bullies. After teachers broke up the fight, the principal of the school called Maureen and said, “Mrs. Murphy, I’m calling not to get Michael into trouble, but I am required to call because the incident happened.” He explained that Michael had been involved in a fight defending a special-education child. While Michael’s parents did not condone fighting, both Dan and Maureen could not have been prouder of their son. After this incident, Michael garnered the nickname “the Protector.” The following year, while taking a shortcut home through a small wooded area, Michael came upon a group of students tormenting a homeless man who had been collecting bottles and cans in a plastic bag. Michael yelled for the other kids to stop. One of them turned toward him and said, “Aw, Murphy, are you going to start?”