One semester, while teaching at West Point, I gave cadets an assignment to find a veteran’s grave and research that individual to learn who they were —to breathe life into them, even if only on paper —and to share their stories. Little did I know I would one day be writing about the life of one of my own cadets. North of Columbus, just off Interstate 71, sits the town of West Salem. Right before the highway exit stands a simple marker, like a soldier standing at attention, with the name Lieutenant John Runkle. Hundreds, maybe thousands, pass his marker daily. Some, no doubt, wonder about the story behind the name. One day, while traveling with my son, I pointed it out and told him about Cadet John Runkle, who was once a student of mine. Most of my cadets knew they would eventually land in the war(s), so I explained how we would study the emotions of war through literature, writ-ing, and poetry. There were some cadets, like John Runkle, who had already experienced war and who was humble and available to classmates. He was from Ohio and a Buckeyes fan, so that endeared me to him. In high school, military service wasn’t in John’s plans. His brother Cory explains, “John was incredibly smart. He had an engineer’s mind and seemed headed to a top-tier university until the morning of September 11th .” Watching the second plane hit the towers, John announced, “I’m joining up.” Cory shares, “September 11th was John’s catalyst. His call to arms.” And just like that, John enlisted. War is an extension of politics gone awry, but don’t tell that to the men and women serving: they just want to do their jobs and return home. Christine Runkle, John’s mom, shared how, “The military was a very good fit for him. He felt what he was doing was very important. He was bright, a deep thinker.” While serving the remainder of his enlistment in Korea, John learned he had been accepted into West Point. He also learned his unit would be deploying to Iraq. John Runkle had a decision to make.
The easy choice would have been to finish his enlistment and report to West Point instead of going to Iraq, but that was not John Runkle’s style. He delayed his acceptance to West Point. In doing so, he exchanged the safety of the classroom to join his unit in Iraq. Four years after returning from Iraq, John graduated in the top 10% of his West Point class and later received orders for Afghanistan. Just before leaving for Afghanistan, John purchased a pair of cowboy boots for a Browns game and his brother’s wedding. He never got a chance to wear them. John Runkle died on May 26, 2011 in Afghanistan. This year’s Memorial Day is the anniversary of his death. To honor his brother, Cory wore the one-size-too-small boots to a Browns game and the wedding. Chris Runkle shares the morning two uniformed officers came to her door, “I knew exactly what they were there for, and I thought if I don’t answer the door, they can’t tell me my son is dead.”
When he came home, people lined the roads from the airport to the Western Reserve cemetery where John reposes in good company with other veterans. The community continues to be supportive, but I’m sure Chris would give it all away for one last hug from mother to son. After losing a loved one, we learn how life is a series of adjustments where we try to impose regularity by smoothing our lives out best we can, but there is always a wrinkle that remains, a reminder of what was and could’ve been. How do we honor the men and women who gave their lives? Nothing we do will ever bring back the fallen, but maybe we can honor their memories by being just a little better. Cory Runkle said that John respected people’s differences of opinion even if he disagreed with them. “That’s what makes this country great,” Cory adds. Maybe it’s about sharing a cup of kindness with someone who least expects it. That’s how I will remember Lieutenant John Marshall Runkle.
Should you find yourself driving on I-71, just outside the town of West Salem stands a marker. When you see it or other markers that dot our highways, say his name aloud, “Lieutenant John Runkle,” and honor the cost. Today I shared a YouTube video of Lieutenant John Runkle with my son. I told him of a young man who once sat in my English class. Maybe that’s our job, to share their stories. Lieutenant John Runkle
Killed in Action, Afghanistan
May 26, 2011