THIS PAGE IS DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF JEIDER JACKSON WARREN, A SHIPMATE WHO DIED IN VIET NAM

 

JEIDER JACKSON WARREN, born 28 October 1931 to O. V. and Effie Warren in Downsville, Louisiana, died in service to his country in Viet Nam, 27 February 1968.

His home of record was Castor, Louisiana.

His name is Etched in Stone on Panel 41E, Line 56 on the Viet Nam Memorial Wall.

He married Barbara Jean Duncan, 22 October 1955 in Arizona and they had two sons, Michael Jeider and Rex Allen. Their sons still live in the Northwest, close to Seattle. Barbara Jean died 12 April 1997.

Jeiderís family called him "Jack". He was named after his great-grandfather, Jeider Jackson Warren the First, who is buried in the Ebenezer Cemetery in Castor, Louisiana.

Jeiderís father still lives in Calhoun, Louisiana and is 92 years old. Most of his brothers and sisters also live in the state of Louisiana. We wish him eternal fair skies and calm seas.

                                 

This poem was written by Jeiderís sister, Belinda Warren after they visited the Memorial.

Brother
 
You were born in the peace of wild things.
You spent your childhood walking the creek banks
where the great heron feeds.
You were buried in a place far from those hills and creeks.
The grief of that still stops my heart and brings tears to my eyes.
The world is a lesser place without you.
Your gracious smile and generous laugh would have built up
a world in need of a soul.
We could not understand this loss, but we have come to know
the pain of this mistake.
We love you, still, and not a day goes by that we remaining six
do not recall some special thing that you did for us.
Rocking us to sleep; a ride on the handlebars of your old bike.
Silk PJís from far away.
For us, you are the lucky penny we carry in our pocket,
The four-leaf clover we find in a green field.
You bring us a smile when the world is cold and we need
a little sunshine to renew our hope.
You are not here to touch, but when the Great Blue Heron
walks through my yard like an old Chinese Emperor,
I am reminded of your tall lean frame.
When the Monarch lights on my flowers, I see
the quiet, gentle way you had with us as our big brother.
Your leaving left a void that can never be filled.
When I visit the peace of wild things and feel
the day-blind stars above me waiting with their light,
I know you and your sweet spirit are there
watching over all of us, and I smile.

 

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