Dear Mr. Bush:

You do not know me, however I felt compelled to write to you and tell you about my son. You see, he was a 3rd Battalion, 3rd Marine Regiment based in Hawaii, and he now lives in your neighborhood, Arlington National Cemetery, Section 60.

His name was Staff Sergeant Jason Carroll Ramseyer and he was 29 years old. He was killed on April 20, 2006 in the Al Anbar Province, Haditha, Iraq by an IED explosive device. He leaves behind a wife, Amanda and two little girls. Rylee Grace is 3 1/2 and Kadence just turned 2. He was my only child.

He joined the Marines in 1996 two weeks after graduating from high school. He served in Kosovo, Afghanistan and Iraq. Jason was hand picked out of thousands of Marines for his skills and ability as a teacher, as well as a leader. He presently served as the platoon commander for the battalion's Forward Command Post, known as "Jump CP." He was in charge of security for Lt. Colonel Norman L. Cooling and was killed protecting Lt. Colonel Cooling, as well as his fellow Marines. His comrades called him a "Marines Marine."

We have not only lost an important person in our personal life, but our country has lost a valuable Marine. These men and women have willingly volunteered to serve our country. They are the leaders and some of our strongest and we are losing them EVERY day. There were 76 lives lost just in the month of April 2006.

I have received cards and letters from mothers who have lost their sons and daughters as well. One card was from a young man's mother who lost his life in Jason's unit during their Afghanistan deployment. It is time for our country's leaders to pay attention to the small details, the individual lives lost.

My son's new fascination was golf. We played when I visited him in Hawaii the end of February, prior to his deployment on March 11, 2006. In the last email I received from him he said that he had made a tee platform on the dam, found an old golf club, and would I send him some cheap golf balls so that he could practice and hit them off the dam into the water. He never got my response the following day. This Sunday, May 14th is Mother's Day. I will be at Lookout Dam on the Catawba River hitting golf balls into the water in honor of my son who will never again send me a Mother's Day card telling me how much he loved me.

My son's wishes were to be buried at Arlington National Cemetery because of his love for his country and his pride at being a United States Marine.

My request is a simple one. Please pay him a personal visit at Arlington. He respected you, loved his family, his country, God and the Marines.

As a mother, I need to know that my son receives the respect, honor and dignity he deserves in giving his life for his country. The Marines have already shown me that, now I would like to receive that gift from you.

I look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,

Cynthia Hicks

His last deployment began March 9, 2006. His job was to lead a squad escorting Lieutenant Colonel Norm Cooling, commander of the 3rd Battalion, 3rd Marine Regiment, from place to place in Iraq. He took the job seriously, as he did everything else, Mandy said.

A Marine Corps Major told her the squad had just dropped Cooling off at a meeting and was headed back to base when Jason got out of his Humvee to check an object in the road, as he had dozens of times before. If he suspected a bomb, he'd call a bomb squad.

This time, he never got the chance. The device was remote-controlled, and Jason didn't even have time to take cover.

Hicks, who works as a paralegal in Hickory, got an urgent call from her husband that afternoon. He told her to come home immediately.

When she arrived, she knew. Two Marines were waiting. Her son had told her: If Marines ever show up at your door, it doesn't mean I'm injured.

She thought, too, about what he'd told her and Mandy before his deployment to Afghanistan. He was packing, and he insisted on showing them the precise spot on his uniform for each of his 10 medals. Neither woman wanted to hear it or even think about it.

But Jason said: No, you need to know where the medals go in case something happens.

Hicks hoped with everything she had that she'd never have to apply the lesson.

Jason was her only child.

"I know there's got to be a special reason why (God) took him from me and his babies," Hicks said. "But he was a Marine, and he was very proud, and that was his job."