Remember Those Who Made the Ultimate Sacrifice

It's been four years since Corporal Jordan Pierson, a 21-year-old Milford resident, gave his life for his country in Operation Iraqi Freedom. 

But the U.S. Marine who made the ultimate sacrifice still lives on in his family's home -- in the photographs, the quilts, the military medals and the minds of his father, his mother, and younger brother.

"We walk down the street and say, 'Wow, it's Veterans Day,' " Jordan's father, Eric Pierson, 50, said. "That day has been paid for with people's lives and people's blood. It's something we all need to take pause on."

Jordan's brother, Ethan Pierson, 16, said he'll be going about his regular business on Veterans Day, but filled with pride. 

"It's always like, that day is for my brother..." the teen said. "I'm sure my brother wouldn't want us crying..."

At every turn in the Pierson's Woodmont home, the war hero is present. A large photograph of Jordan in his Marine Dress Blues hangs high on a wall in the living room as if he's watching over the whole family. There are three comfort quilts -- gifts after Pierson's tragic death in 2006 --  displayed in the living room and the late Marine's old bedroom. Jordan's photo is on the refrigerator, held there by a magnet that reads, "Jordan."

His mother, Beverly Pierson, 54, insists it is not a shrine -- and her son was no angel. Frankly, she says, Jordan was a difficult child who other grownups refused to babysit. He got so hard to handle his parents had to convert the garage into separate quarters for him. 

"He was insane," Beverly Pierson said.

"If you're going to survive as a soldier in battle, that's what you need to be," Jordan's father said.

But Jordan was also brilliant -- and determined. The Piersons recall their son studying military moves as a 10-year-old boy playing Half-Life, a first-person shooter video game. It was then that he took up Tae Kwon Do.

And Jordan grew into a leader, keeping his friends on the straight and narrow. He offered to be the designated driver when he and his friends went out. He encouraged two aimless buddies to join the military.

"My son was the glue," Beverly Pierson said.

And Jordan was determined.

After the World Trade Center Attack, he was intent on joining the military at age 17. However, that would've required at least one parent's signature because he was underage.

His parents weren't signing on. It wasn't because they didn't support Jordan's dream. It was because they didn't want his blood on their hands, as his mother put it, if anything happened to him.

"Could you imagine how I'd feel today if I signed that paper?" said Beverly Pierson, who wears a dog-tag necklace with an etching of her son's face on one side and an inscription on the other that reads: "My hero, Jordan, 8/25/2006, Iraq, Yo Momma."

At his 18th birthday party, the Marines showed up with a cup -- to take Jordan's urine sample, his parents recall with smiles.

The Foran High School graduate passed the drug test, and before his parents knew it, their son had learned Spanish, German and Arabic -- and gone off to Iraq.

Jordan used his knowledge of the language to befriend the Iraqis, even trying to dissuade children from joining the insurgency.

"He was always thinking of new ways to defeat the enemy," Beverly Pierson said.

Jordan had a brush with death in May 2006, when a grenade sent shrapnel through his body. He survived -- and kept up the fight.

But three months later he wasn't as fortunate. Jordan was struck in the shoulder by small arms fire while on foot patrol in the Al Anbar province.  It claimed his life.

"Everybody has a day to die," Beverly Pierson said. "God has a day He's going to call you home."

Ethan Pierson -- who's suffered grand mal seizures since his brother's death, including one at Arlington National Cemetery, where Jordan is buries -- has poured his grief into poetry.

"Beloved bro, amongst the K.I.A.

But to me you're still alive and well

Our relationship tightly wound always

The love we had anybody could tell," one poem begins.

Beverly and Eric Pierson smile comfortably when they talk about Jordan, who was awarded two Purple Hearts, and the Navy and Marine Corps Achievement Medal.

After his death, they learned about the type of man Jordan had become.

He allowed his fellow Marines to relax at night while he prepared their equipment for the next day.  He stayed up to comfort an older, injured Marine who cried out for him at night.  And he led his troops into raids with a blue light on the back of his helmet so they could follow him in the dark -- even though it put him at risk.

In a letter to the family after Jordan's death, Lance Corporal Jason Cooling wrote, "Your son was a leader to me right from the start."

And the two became fast friends. On post in Fallujah, Jordan tried to convince Cooling to get another street bike when he returned home to the United States. But Cooling said he wouldn't because they were way too dangerous.

"Now, here we were, 2 kids, who two years ago were in high school, sitting on post in one of the most dangerous cities in the world, talking about how when we get home our toys were going to be too dangerous," Cooling wrote.

"We had to laugh at the irony."

In the end, Jordan's parents realize all their words of wisdom didn't go unnoticed by their defiant boy.

"He did everything we said, you know," Beverly Pierson said. "He just did all his good works in secret."

Jordan completed more than 100 missions and 50 intelligence-driven raids. The family finds comfort in knowing he died doing what he lived for.

"It was something that he loved, something that he had a passion for. He found a home in the Marines," Eric Pierson said.

"God took him out in glory," Beverly Pierson said.  "Jordan wanted to be remembered in a big way."