The first time I met Jon when I was a platoon leader in A Co. We were going out to a field training exercise and had requested medic support for the field problem. He was assigned to my platoon, and I got to know him pretty well over the duration of the next week or so. He immediately impressed me; he was every platoon leader's dream Soldier - attentive, sharp, hard-working, and he knew his job. From day one, he made it a point to personally check on every member of the platoon each day. No ailment or complaint was turned away and if he didn't have an answer he would get back to you, often with a prescription or advice for whatever the issue was.
Later, Jon was assigned to my platoon for a portion of our month-long pre-deployment training exercise to California. While there he confided in me that he had been offered a job in the battalion aid station, a far cushier and easier job, but had requested to stay with the engineers because he loved the men and liked feeling like a Soldier. That was Jon - he always insisted on being where he could do the most good and he genuinely cared about the men and being their medic. He loved being a Soldier, he loved being around Soldiers, and he loved taking care of Soldiers. As a leader I could not have asked for more. The passion he had for his job and the men he served with was unmistakeble.
Once we deployed to Iraq Jon was formally attached to our company. As one of only two medics in the comany, Jon didn't have the luxury of being able to sit out many missions or get much downtime. But he wouldn't have had it any other way. As the deployment went on, day in and day out he went on patrol. He used to carry chewing gum in an ammo pouch just so that when he saw guys getting worn out or having a rough time he could offer them a piece and make them smile. He understood that we all would suffer from more than just physical ailments or injuries, and he was there to help on every level. As the medic he was also alot like a chaplain - many guys in the company entrusted him not just with their injuries, but with their problems.
Even when I left the company and went to work on staff, Jon continued to look after me. Passing me in the chow hall, or on his way to or from somewhere on camp, he would always call me over to joke about something and ask me about my health. I was having some problems with my feet at the time and because I hadn't had the time to get to the aid station, he took it upon himself to research my issue, discuss it with a Doctor, and brought a prescription to my hootch late at night, after having worked a full day. Even after I had left the unit, Doc Cadavero was still MY medic. He was just that kind of guy.
It's been nearly two years since that day I learned of his death. Since I learned that my medic, my Soldier, my friend, had died. It still eats at me as much as the day I heard. I felt then and still feel that we've been robbed. I know I speak for many when I say that the world is a lesser place without him.
Jack London wrote a poem that said: "I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot..."
The only consolation I have been able to find in any of this is that Jon glowed brightly while he was here. He gave his all in everything he did and always found time for others. He was selfless beyond words, a true example for us all.
-Chuck Schumacher (February 24, 2009)
Jon will always be with us, each in our own way. I will always remember him checking up on each and every one of us every day. Regardless of how big or small your ailment or injury was Jon treated them all with the same care and respect. Jon was more than 'doc', he was a man who could make you laugh, make you crazy and make you realize there are good people in this world. I am thankful for my chance to know him. God bless and keep you.
-Jeffrey DeRosa (February 23, 2009)
Jon today was weird I was walking from the hospitals cafeteria and I thought of you. The weird thing I heard your voice and I looked back. It scared me you were nowhere. I thought I was crazy but you had a way about yourself when we were going through rough times you would say in the best Italian voice “Hey yo CAR BA HALL eva dang gonna be alright, alright.” And that’s what I heard today and I knew you were just looking out for me and I appreciate it. I love you brother man. I should be out of the hospital in a couple weeks to a month and I'll come see you for the first time.
-Andrew Carbajal (February 16, 2009)
Although the Holidays are long gone & forgotten by most, it is a special time for families. We always loved Christmas especially as it was a time of year for making memories with our family, special loved ones, and friends. We had our own traditions & rituals that became part of our holiday season. All the family traditions & rituals that I once looked forward to just became a source for magnifiying my loss. As we approached our second Christmas without Jon it became harder this year to face the festivities. Christmas morning we should have been sitting by the fireplace, sipping a hot drink, talking, laughing & making new memories. Instead, we were at the cemetery, sitting by Jon's grave & missing him more than words can ever say.
And here it is February, a month I used to love. What's not to love? A short month, days off from school, and if Mother Nature hit us with harsh wintery weather, it was OK because you could almost smell spring in the air. Now the month of February holds bitter sweet memories for me - memories of a last card, last email, last phone call and, worst of all, the tragedy that would forever change my life.
People with good intentions have said that time will make a difference; I will learn to deal with it, etc. etc. etc. To those I say: walk a few days in my shoes, feel my pain, cry my tears and then talk to me about what time can & will do. There are some wounds that are so deep that time does nothing to ease the pain.
It's hard to believe that in a few weeks it will be 2 years since Jon was taken away from me, from all of us. I think of Jon so many times during the course of the day. I remember all the love, all the good times, all the laughter we shared. Wonderful memories can never replace Jon, but I look forward to the day when we will be together once more.
Jon "lives" on in my heart and he truly was AND is my hero for he served proudly & bravely.
Miss & love you my son now more than ever. Mom
-Nadia Cadavero (February 15, 2009)
I can’t believe it’s been two years since I last heard Jon’s voice. On February 12, 2007 Jonny called me from Iraq. I was at work, sitting at my desk, when I heard the phone ring. I saw a really long phone number show up on the caller ID, and I knew it was him. I picked up the phone immediately and was so excited to talk with Jon.
I don’t remember exactly how we greeted each other, but I imagine it was as we always did. I probably said, “Hi, Brother,” and Jon most likely said, “Sister, how is everything?”
(Ever since we were little, we referred to each other as “Brother” and “Sister.” This began when our Mum read the children’s books “The Berenstain Bears” to us, whose kid characters were known as “Brother Bear” and “Sister Bear.”)
Whenever Jonny called from Iraq, he always sounded positive and energetic. We spoke about the usual things: his missions, my work, our family, world events. He always checked with me to make sure our mother was ok.
Then he made a request of me, and then asked me to make two promises. Jon supported Mayor Rudy Giuliani for president, and asked me to make a contribution to the Giuliani campaign for him. I did this immediately, and made the donation in Stg. Jon’s name.
He then asked me to promise him to begin tae kwon do lessons. Jon took martial arts as a child, and then after a lapse of several years he began again during college and advanced to a brown belt. When we were in college together, Jon would always ask me to take tae kwon do with him but I never did. Not taking these tae kwon do classes with Jonny is perhaps my biggest regret. But I did keep my promise to him. I began tae kwon do at the academy that Jon attended and under the training of his old instructors. Jon told me that I would like it, and to my surprise I really did enjoy martial arts (I guess Jon knew me better than I did).
Jon’s second promise that he asked of me was to begin school that autumn. He and I planned to go to the same master’s program together in the fall of 2008, as his term in the Army was done in the spring of 2008. But during our last conversation he told me that he was considering re-enlisting, and he didn’t want me to wait for him. As hard as it was to register for classes in the fall of 2007, only six months after Jonny became an angel, I kept my second promise to him, too. Jon was my inspiration throughout the program, and I will graduate this spring.
Whenever I think of my last conversation with Jon, I’m reminded of one of his favorite movies, “Signs.” In the film a preacher’s wife passes away due to an accident, and her husband becomes very bitter and despondent. Several years later, the preacher’s entire family is saved through his remembering the last words spoken to him by his wife. Although he previously thought her last words were incoherent and inconsequential, he realized that her message was a “sign.”
I’ve spoken with several other gold star family members who were asked, in their last conversation with their fallen hero, to do something specific for them. Many times they feel that that request, whether to read a book or begin an old hobby or to try something new, has “saved” them by guiding them to a purpose and giving them a goal.
In the same way, I feel that Jon “saved” me. After his passing I was consumed with grief. But through two seemingly mundane and inconsequential promises I made to Jonny, those last requests of his became like a light in a darkened room. Acting on those last promises enabled me to take my first steps in which grieving, although always present, was not all consuming. Slowly, as I began to act upon the promises the future became more than just mourning the past.
Brother: you always looked out for me. Although I didn’t realize it at the time, thank you for saving me two years ago today. You are missed and loved more every day.
-Kristia Cavere (February 13, 2009)
Dear Cadavero Family,
When I see someone that has or is serving I thank them for serving our country. Thank you for raising the kind of fine young man that served his country and continues to serve in the testimonies of all these people.
I am so very sorry for your loss. I can not imagine what you have gone through and continue to go through. Thank you for sharing a part of your son's life through this web site.
Looking forward to the day when Jesus comes back to this earth, brings Jonathan to your waiting arms, and then I can meet Jonathan face to face.
God bless you,
Kallie Kirchberg Atlantic Union College Enrollment/Recruitment
-Kallie Kirchberg (January 29, 2009)
Times and times again you come across my mind. I've been in the hospital for awhile and soon to get out. I finished a tattoo on my back for you. I know when we got out of A.I.T. and heading up to Drum we all were suppose to get together and get a tattoo of something military like. Well never would of thought that tattoo would of came three years later and you are gone. You're a great friend and always will be. We did things over in IRAQ no one will every realize and understand but I can tell you the day you died, which was the day before my birthday, we would get attacked 45-65 times a day two years later they are only getting attack 2-5 times a day. We made a difference. Elections are being held now and in March Officials will be taking office. That is a great mile stone. Our headquarters is deployed right now to IRAQ and 3rd Birgade to OEF. OBAMA is in office, who would of thought with our military situation but I agree it is time for change. Its been two years brother and my first child was born in October. Her name is Emma June. I miss you and I wish your family well. My thoughts and prays are with you guys always!
-andrew carbajal (January 28, 2009)
Lately I have found myself thinking about Jon a lot. Wondering why. While I wasn't very close to him, I am close to his mother, Mrs. Cadavero. I make it a point to visit her every time I come to Waldick. Mrs. Cadavero, my prayers are with you and your family. Michelle, my prayers are with you too. i only met you once; but my boyfriend recently enlisted into the Reserve. Since then, my prayers have been with you more than ever. I pray for comfort and healing for you and that you will feel his love in your times of loss and sadness. Just know that I and many others are praying for you!
I know this message can't do much, but i hope it brings at least a little comfort. Jon, we miss you! hopefuly we'll see you again soon!
Love, Emily Hollister
- (January 27, 2009)
Thomas Olden once observed, "If the essence of my being has caused a smile to have appeared upon your face, or a touch of joy within your heart, then in living, I have made my mark." Sergeant Jonathan Cadavero's life brought many smiles upon many faces, brought joy to many hearts, and within a span of only 24 years left a mark worthy of emulation. Beyond the smiles, beyond the joy, and a compassionate, tender spirit, he had incredible "grit" and courage. While serving in Iraq, there are numerous testimonies from officers and fellow soldiers who indicated what an incredible medic Jon was during his tenure of service. Just one illustration. According to Benjamin Ritter, Commanding Officer, U.S. Army, Headquarters and Headquarters Detachment, 2nd Brigade Special Troops Battalion located at Ft. Striker, Iraq "On one particular occasion, Jonathan was accompanying a dismounted element during route clearance operations. A shot rang out and as the other soldiers scrambled to find cover, one of them was hit in the leg by an enemy bullet. When the soldier reached Jonathan's covered position, he dove on the wounded soldier and went to work on his leg. Jonathan had the wound bandaged and had moved out with other dismounted soldiers to check nearby buildings within two minutes. That was typical of his treatments.... he always found the confidence to finish the job correctly. The Soldiers of First Platoon knew that when the cry went out for "doc", the man responding would be Jonathan, and that brought them enomorous reassurance. To Jonathan, the Soldiers of First Platoon were his teammates and the thought of leaving them in the hands of another medic was unconscionable. Jonathan was in every way an outstanding soldier and superb medic." This is just a brief snapshot of how Jonathan approached life/with courage, conviction, and selfless service for others.
At Jonathan's graveside memorial service, on March 9, 2007, which was conducted by military personnel from West Point Military Academy, one of the soldiers played taps. Although when I heard the song, it gave me a lump in my throat and brought tears to my eyes, I never was aware of the story behind the song, "Taps", until recently. Its roots come from very humble beginnings. Reportedly, it all began in 1862 during the Civil War, when Union Army Captain Robert Ellicombe was with his men at Fort Harrison's landing in Virginia. The Confederate Army was on the other side of the narrow strip of land. During the night, Captain Ellicombe heard the moans of a soldier who lay severely wounded in the field. Not knowing if it was a Union or a Confederate soldier, the Captain decided to risk his life and bring the striken man back for medical attention. Crawling on his stomach through the gunfire, the Captain reached the striken soldier and began pulling him toward his encampment. When the Captain finally reached his own lines, he discovered that it was actually a Confederate soldier, but the soldier was dead. The Captain lit a lantern and suddenly caught his breath and went numb with shock. In the dim light, he saw the face of the soldier....it was his own son! The boy had been studying music in the South when the war broke out. Without telling his father, the boy enlisted in the Confederate Army. The following morning, heartbroken, the father asked permission of his superiors to give his son a full military burial, despite his enemy status. His request was only partially granted. The Captain had asked if he could have a group of Army band members play a funeral dirge for his son at the funeral. The request was turned down since the soldier was a Confederate. But, out of respect for the father, they granted him only one musician. The Captain chose a bugler. He asked the bugler to play a series of musical notes he had found on a piece of paper in the pocket of the dead youth's uniform. This wish was granted. The haunting melody, we now know as "Taps" used at military funerals was born. The words to the song are:
Day is done. Gone is the sun. From the lakes, from the hills, from the sky. All is well. Safely rest. God is nigh. Fading light. Dims the sight. And a star gems the sky. Gleaming bright, from afar, drawing nigh, falls the night. Thanks and praise for our days, 'neath the sun, 'neath the stars, 'neath the sky. As we go, this we know.....GOD IS NIGH!
I have never seen all the words to this solemn song until now. I did not even know there was more than one verse. I now have a deeper respect and appreciation for the song than I did before. Let us remember our lost soldiers and those harmed while serving our wonderful country. Also, remember our brave soldiers who have served and returned safely. Also, say a special prayer for those currently serving in the Armed Forces. And, please never forget our beloved son, Sergeant Jonathan D. Cadavero. GOD BLESS AMERICA.
David A. Cadavero Jonathan's father
-David Cadavero (January 20, 2009)
Thinking of you and all your fallen comrades this Christmas season, and always, Jonny. Each time we light candles, we think of you and how your light shone so brightly while you were here on earth ~ and how it continues to shine even now. We miss you more than words can say . . . and carry your spirit within each of us. May God bless you – and us. Everyone!
With love and peace, Debra Valle (cousin) and the Valle Family
-Debra Valle (December 23, 2008)
Leave your own memories & condolences of Sgt. Jonathan Cadavero.
