Forrest and Oaken Ewens, identical twins, were students in my discussion group at Whitworth University in fall 2000. When I asked them if they really wanted to be in the same group, they were resolute: “We like being in the same classes,” one said. “It’s never been a problem.”
During that semester, one I can’t remember which one consistently turned in better papers than the other. Neither cared about that. There was no one-upmanship. The twins rarely spoke up in class, but their occasional comments and their papers reflected strong convictions, heartfelt beliefs, and love of God, family, and country. Their companionship was easy and supportive; their bond was tight.
Perhaps that bond expanded a bit when Oaken left for West Point and Forrest stayed on at Whitworth, helping to lead the track-and-field team to a conference championship and learning everything he could about history and his other passions. Other tests came as the young men pursued their military careers, first in ROTC, at the U.S. Military Academy, and then in the U.S. Army.
But nothing would break the bond; not even Forrest’s death in Afghanistan’s Pech River Valley on June 16, 2006. He was leading his men on a mission to distribute medical supplies when a roadside bomb went off. At barely twenty-five, Forrest was gone.
Two weeks after his brother’s death, Oaken wrote in an online memorial, “I prayed so hard that God would stop my heart the night I heard.” Saying that he was “beyond tears,” Oaken continued, “I miss you and I am so very proud.”
Everyone who knew Forrest echoes that last sentiment. Though none of us can know the depth of his twin’s anguish, nor the pain and pride of the rest of his close-knit family, all of us can join with another young man who wrote in Forrest’s guestbook a PFC who’d served under Forrest in Afghanistan. His final words were both an inspiration and a knife through the heart to those of us who went to the Web looking for comfort and camaraderie after Forrest’s death: “Climb to Glory, Sir!”
Lord, may your glory be seen even in suffering.
“A brother is born for adversity.” (Proverbs 17:17)