December 13, 1968. The date of my brother’s plane being lost in the jungles of Laos. Almost killing my parents, their first born lost.
He was my hero, he was the best. Our parents were divorced right after he signed up and being my older brother by 11 years he knew the troubled life I was going to have. He bought me my first bicycle, my first pet, my first bible; he came to see my church events when he could. He made time to come to my confirmation, our Christmas programs and any other time I needed him around he would try to be there.
As I grew older, I would join his household for the summer and he always would include me in their lives. He taught me to fish in the NY barge canal and he made me put my bait on the hook one summer. He taught me to drive and allowed me to take his brand new fancy Chrysler when he was called to an “alert” on base. By the time his plane went down I had 2 boys with one being in kindergarten. I can still remember walking to the school crying and his asking me why. I told him about Uncle Tom and that he would not be visiting any more. My son was too young to understand of course.
The government never admitted that there were bombing missions in that area.
Ten years later the Air Force declared him dead so his affairs could be dealt with. We had the service at Arlington with the entire family attending. We still were not given the information about how it happened or any plans to find the remains.
After my Mother moved in with me, I found that she was receiving reports from the Air Force regarding searches and they had to tell us that his mission that fateful night was over Laos. The government never admitted that there were bombing missions in that area.
The Air Force asked for my DNA to identify any remains and in 2014 we were informed that the remains of his co-pilot were found and some other bone fragments but they could not identify any of those as my brother. In 2015 the Air Force put the fragments in an urn that we buried next to my Father and his wife. We were told that this would end the searches. THE END~!!! (for them)
My brother was Col. Thomas Wayne Dugan. His name is on the Wall and on the Wall in Reading Pennsylvania where we were both born.
Kathy Dugan