I can’t credit myself for matchmaking– but I consider myself part of their story since I was the only witness present at the moment they met.
The romance started in my kitchen. My daughter had a small gathering at our house; by now everyone had left and moved on. Only one person lingered behind— one of my son-in-law’s friends from the Defense Language Institute in Monterey. I had just met Ross and he stuck around talking to me. His courtesy was rewarded —big time—when someone else showed up.
Jen has been one of Alli’s friends since middle school. That night she was working late at her night job nearby— by the time she arrived, she was too late for a party but she joined us in the kitchen and I introduced her to Ross.
The instant they met, I didn’t hear any bells go off–but there were sound effects—when Ross accidentally knocked one of my plates off the wall. The plate fell—and so did they—head over heels.
So I felt connected to their whirlwind romance —they were inseparable from that night and married less than a year later.
Their marriage began like many military marriages, with a long separation–his 15- month tour of duty in Iraq. I wouldn’t have guessed that a creative, free spirit like Jen would adapt so easily to life as a military spouse. Yet it worked for her—as the relationship worked for both of them. What happened is what happens in the best marriages– they seemed to make each other better.
As part of their union, Jen enjoyed and embraced Ross’ daughter Indra from a previous relationship. When he got back from Iraq, she encouraged his pursuit of a military career—he graduated Officer Training school and was accepted to become part of the army’s most elite force, the Rangers.
And it turned out that Jen’s strengths made her well suited for the life they would have. Ross was away in training and missed being there for the birth of their first child Quinn 9 months ago; a few days after his birth Jen put the new puppy and the new baby in the car and drove by herself hundreds of miles to introduce her son to his dad.
The family was reunited a few months later while Ross was stationed at Ft. Benning for Ranger school.
Life was good, and everything was on track—until one of the army’s fittest and finest suddenly and unexpectedly collapsed and died last week during a routine run with his unit, just two days before Father’s Day.
Quinn will never know his father; Jen, a widow at 28, has lost the love of her life; and her love story with Ross will remain– like so many other military love stories– at Arlington National cemetery–the place for our heroes.
Ruthie says
That is so sad, for everyone. My condolences…
Julie Simon says
Wow — what a heartbreaking tale. Since it’s so close to my heart, I’m in tears. Sadly, it’s just one of many we hear nowadays. Please send our thoughts to Ali, her husband, Jen and her family.
V says
D/
Even though I learned of Ross’s tragic death from you the day it happened, I still wasn’t fully prepared to read your moving post.
There are never any satisfying answers when life’s circumstances are cruel. You have though, as you many times do, used your blog for a noble purpose. This is a sweet tribute to a love affair that focuses its attention on the adjustments, adapting and sacrifices that true love engenders.
V/
Bj says
Condolences to you and the daughter you describe so lovingly. Sharing this story is special even to me, a stranger.
Darryle Pollack says
Beyond sad; thanks, Ruthie.
Darryle Pollack says
Thank you Julie. I’m sure as part of a military family you hear these stories far too often. I guess the only positive note is that military spouses are prepared in advance to make decisions —and military communities are so supportive to help families cope.
Darryle Pollack says
So sweet–I’d have to say you used your comment for a noble purpose—since you well know the adjustments, adapting and sacrifices that true love entails.
Darryle Pollack says
I’m really touched, BJ, and so appreciate your sentiment and words—as I’m sure Alli and Jen will, too. I really think Jen and Ross had a special kind of love and glad that came through in the story, even to a “stranger”. Thanks so much for taking the time to comment.
Brad Gilbert says
I knew Ross at Embry-Riddle, we met back in 1997. We got to be friends and had a lot of fun, but I hadn’t seen him in over ten years. I hadn’t thought about him in a long time until this morning when I saw his name in the alumni newsletter, saying he had died.
I remember good times with him, laughing and joking in the dorms, playing games when we should have been studying, conversations until dawn. You called Jen a “creative, free spirit” and that is exactly how I remember Ross back in the day. I honestly never thought I’d get back in touch with him, but still, when I saw that sterile little blurb in the newsletter, all I could think is “what happened?” I’m incredibly grateful that you wrote some of his story and left it here. Now I know my old friend went on and made himself a life full of love and joy and service. Thank you for that.
Darryle Pollack says
Thank you SO much, Brad, for taking the time to comment and fill in more of Ross’ story. It sounds like you have some wonderful memories and I know Jen will appreciate this. Your old friend did make himself a life full of love and joy and service—and thank you again for helping keep his memory with us.