April 15, 2003
Vermont buries a hero
Marine killed in Iraq believed in his cause
By John Briggs, Emily Stone and Matt Sutkoski

Mark Evnin was remembered Monday as a proud Marine, as a loving son, grandson and cousin, as a caring and principled young man.

He was ''looney,'' he was ''crafty,'' he could drive a person crazy. He was devoted to his family. He believed in fighting for his country.

Cpl. Evnin, 21, was honored and buried Monday, 11 days after he was killed in combat near Kut, Iraq. His Marine unit had just crossed the Tigris River on its drive toward Baghdad.

More than 1,000 people attended his funeral at Ohavi Zedek Synagogue in Burlington. A procession of about 70 cars and four buses wound its way to the burial at Hebrew Holy Society Cemetery in South Burlington. The procession passed South Burlington High School, where hundreds of students and teachers stood outside to watch. Evnin graduated from the school three years ago.

A Marine Corps League color guard and Burlington firefighters flanked the walkway into the synagogue. A contingent from the Vermont Air National Guard attended, as did a number of uniformed police officers. Marines served as pallbearers at the burial and a Marine rifle squad fired the traditional three volleys in salute.

Evnin's family shared memories during the funeral of silly summer games with a little boy who loved to dress up in military uniforms. Family and friends openly wept. The gathering included Gov. Jim Douglas, Lt. Gov. Brian Dubie and Bishop Kenneth Angell of the Roman Catholic Diocese of Burlington.

Total strangers attended the ceremony as well. Some were veterans who wanted to pay their respect to a fallen brother. Others simply wanted to honor a soldier.

"Mark was good company,'' Rabbi Joshua Chasan said. ''He was a free spirit, strong from the inside out; not tough so much as strong. He died in the passion of his courage. He followed his dream, and his dream led to his death.''

The funeral

Max Wall, Evnin's grandfather and a rabbi at Ohavi Zedek for more than 40 years, was the first of five to offer eulogies. He remembered his grandson as ''a tall, straight proud human being'' who was ''ready to do what duty demanded of him.''

"I've stood on this pulpit many a day and have sought to bring comfort and support to the bereaved,'' he said. ''I never thought I would be in the same need as every one of you who I tried to console.''

Wall said it was difficult to summon the strength to speak about someone he loved so dearly, but ''I can't not speak,'' he said.

"We need our guardians. We need them desperately,'' Wall continued, speaking to the Marines seated at the front of the synagogue and to the young people in the audience, but, our ''highest goal'' as a people, he said, ''is to learn how to speak to each other throughout the world. Shall we, the mightiest nation, not continue to strive for the highest, to teach people what liberty means.

"We can't save life by killing,'' Wall said. ''We can't build a universe of peace by building greater weapons of destruction.''

Rachel Antonoff, Evnin's cousin, recalled whipped cream fights with him as a child, his genial counseling that eased her fear of the deep end of the swimming pool, and his insight once that she was ''dating a loser.''

"He is my hero,'' she said. ''He was my cousin, my friend, my advisor and sometimes a pain in the butt.''

"He never lost his million dollar smile,'' said Greg Novak, Evnin's uncle, who remembered him as an ''absolutely adorable'' little boy with a penchant for military and Star Trek uniforms and swords and laser guns.

"He benefited from the Marines,'' he said. ''He grew in stature and confidence, but he was still Mark.''

He said Evnin's mother, Mindy, called him ''a gentle Marine.''

At Kut, Novak said, Evnin ''did not run away. He did his job. He did his duty.''

Tim Comolli, who taught Evnin in high school, told the gathering that Mark would have been amused to get his old teacher, an Irish Catholic, finally to visit his synagogue, as he had years earlier ''engineered'' a meeting between Comolli and Wall.

"He was a crafty dude,'' Comolli said.

"There were days I wanted to hit him,'' he continued. ''But Mark made me laugh every day.

"I can't fathom how the broken hearts of his family will ever be mended,'' he said, adding that the tragedy for him was, ''I will never meet his wife; never laugh with his children.''

Rabbi Chasan addressed Mindy Evnin.

"You gave Mark freedom to be himself,'' he said, ''even when the risks for a mother were as high as they could be.''

The procession

More than 70 cars, followed by three city buses and a school bus, wound their way from Ohavi Zedek to the cemetery.

People dotted the sidewalk along the route, standing somberly, alone or in small groups, watching the procession pass. Workers watched from the windows of businesses along Dorset Street.

One man stood at attention, his hand over his heart until the last bus passed. A bit farther down the road, a woman knelt next to two young girls, who waved at the procession. One of the girls held a small American flag. A man in a red, white and blue shirt saluted the mourners.

Police officers from Burlington, South Burlington and the University of Vermont held cross-traffic at intersections so the cars and buses could pass. Traffic backed up for blocks along many main roads, including Main and Pearl streets in Burlington and the interstate exit ramps.

The crowd along the street thickened as the procession approached South Burlington High School. The mourners aboard one bus, who had been chatting during the ride, grew quiet when they saw the hundreds of people standing in front of the school.

Students and teachers lined one side of the road, standing in complete silence. Some held flags and signs of support for American troops. Across the street, members of the South Burlington Fire Department stood with a few members of the UVM rescue squad. The cherry picker on one fire truck was raised, an American flag flying at the top.

Some on the bus wiped at their eyes and held each other's hands.

The burial

More than 100 people had begun to gather at the cemetery long before the funeral procession arrived.

Standing by himself at the side of the crowd, John Dyke, a former Special Forces NCO who served two years in Vietnam, said he scarcely knew the family but felt obligated to attend.

"I'm just an old soldier paying my respects to a young soldier who needs to be honored,'' he said.

"He kind of died for me,'' said Jennifer Brackett of Burlington. She said she was a bit older than Evnin and did not know him. ''He died for my freedom.''

Anne Pastula of South Burlington said she was on her way to go shopping when it occurred to her to stop at the cemetery.

''I didn't know the family. I just felt sad and felt I wanted to give my respects. I didn't know the young feller, but I feel better that I'm here,'' she said.

Donna Decker arrived at the cemetery with two of her children more than an hour before the graveside ceremony started.

Her son, Sgt. Justin R. Shifflett, with the 52nd Engineering battalion of the Army Corps of Engineers is in Kosovo, she said.

Dressed in black, Decker held two American flags and son Jonathan, 13, and daughter Deanna, 11, even tighter. She said she was there in solidarity with Evnin's family, and the families of everyone in the military.

"Every single man and woman out there is my son and daughter,'' Decker said. ''He could have done a lot of things with his life, but he gave it to the nation.''

As Decker spoke, the Marine rifle squad practiced the volley-salute that would punctuate the service. ''We came at 8 a.m. to practice, to make sure we do it right,'' said Marine 1st. Sgt. Richard Voutour of the inspector instruction staff out of Londonderry, N.H.

With the arrival of the procession, the crowd at the cemetery quickly swelled to several hundred. A hundred yards away, on the other side of the cemetery, Voutour's rifle squad snapped to attention as the hearse backed up to the grave.

Nearby, some people stood with their hand over the heart and others saluted as six Marine pallbearers moved Evnin's casket to the grave. The simple wooden coffin was draped with an American flag and adorned with a small Star of David.

The marines removed and meticulously folded the flag into a triangle. Later, they delivered it to Evnin's mother and gave an identical flag to Evnin's father Michael Evnin.

Men and women wiped at tears as the casket lowered into the grave.

The crying became more audible as Mindy Evnin stepped to the grave and dropped a shovelful of dirt onto the coffin.

One young man in a tan trench coat shoveled dirt, turned away from the grave, looked back once, winced and strode through the crowd. Lt. Gov. Brian Dubie stared into the grave for a moment after he shoveled. With a pained expression, he turned and slowly walked away.

A woman in an American flag-patterned outfit shoveled quickly, then turned away, dissolving into tears. A tall, bearded young man took his turn, then sought out two friends. The three men embraced for a full minute and cried aloud. Soon the grave was filled with dirt.

On the far side of the cemetery, the seven-man rifle squad fired three sharp volleys. As the sound of the shots faded, the long-drawn notes of taps floated softly with the wind across the grass.

Contact John Briggs, Emily Stone or Matt Sutkoski at 865-0940 or metro@bfp.burlingtonfreepress.com