15 years after Sept. 11 and 20 months after his death, class remains in session, with Blake Marston up front

By RAY DUCKLER

Monitor columnist

Published: 09-11-2016 12:28 AM

I sat with students last week who said they learned from the best.

They were not conventional students, however. They were much older than their teacher, Blake Marston, the late Navy SEAL. One, in fact, was a retired high school principal, Blake’s father, Bill Marston.

More than being told something by Blake, these students were shown something, how to persevere, how to dream, how to be mentally and physically tough while remaining humble and gentle.

Their eyes, those from Blake’s family and a friend, occasionally looked down to the living room floor at Bill and Nancy’s home in Concord, not focusing on anything yet seeing plenty, their minds rewinding to the days before their son was killed during a parachute training accident, Jan. 10, 2015.

He was 31.

They talked about Blake, the big redheaded teddy bear, 6-foot-2, who loved kids and dogs, the Navy SEAL with the cut physique and sleeves of tattoos, the casualty on an endless list of casualties connected to a clear day on the East Coast 15 years ago today.

Sept. 11 says it all.

They made sure I knew that a day never goes by without Blake’s name surfacing. Not one single day since his death.

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Not one.

“I can’t tell you exactly when our roles had changed and Blake became the teacher,” Bill Marston said. “I suspect it was during the time in his career when he was a Navy SEAL. I began to respect his courage, his focus, his desire to be the best he could be, and his willingness to try to be the best he could be.”

“Inspiration lives amongst all of us all the time,” added family friend Mark Girardin of Concord, who’s 50. “It’s in different ways for different people.”

For Girardin, Marston’s influence lives inside him in the form of a cross-country bike ride he’ll take later this month, to raise money for 31Heroes, Blake’s favorite charity.

It’s a tribute to the 30 service members, many of whom were SEALs, plus one military K9 killed when their helicopter was struck by a Taliban-launched rocket propelled grenade and crashed in Afghanistan five years ago.

Since then, 31Heroes, a national nonprofit, has coordinated strenuous workouts, many by CrossFit enthusiasts like Blake, to raise money for service members and their families.

Girardin leaves for his one-month trip Sept. 26, riding from Coronado, Calif., where Blake did his SEAL training, to Virginia Beach, where he was stationed.

“He encouraged me to do it,” said Girardin, who manages a store in Allenstown. “I’m in retail and you don’t get a month off, so I shelved it for another time. After his passing, I realized I should not wait anymore. For me, it’s a personal challenge, and it honors Blake’s spirit.”

For Bill Marston, his son’s impact came into sharp focus when Blake, dehydrated and suffering from pneumonia, passed out during training for the SEALs. He later returned and finished his mission, becoming one of the best of the best.

“When he left the SEALs, we thought we didn’t have to worry about him becoming a combat SEAL somewhere in the world,” Bill said. “But it made him even more determined to do it.”

For Nancy, Blake’s mixture of toughness and kindness always stood out. She cited the tattoo of a dove on his torso. She pointed out his role in Afghanistan, as an ambassador, reaching out to the senior population as a gentle giant, a liaison symbolizing American strength and compassion.

“Where I am and my family is as pacifists, we had a sign outside that said war was not the answer,” said Nancy, seated next to Bill on the couch. “Blake said just because you’re preparing for war does not mean you cannot work for peace. He told us we have to actively care for each other, go out and give well and give back, so that’s what we’re doing.”

And for uncle Erik Mostue of Weare, Nancy’s brother, Blake’s influence spread through his entire family, which includes his two sons, both of whom grew up with Blake and are in their early 30s. Blake would have been 33 on Aug. 9.

Mostue spoke about his son, Jared, who used to work at a lumber yard and, at the time, was not tapping into his full potential. That changed.

“He was not motivated to move to the next level,” Mostue said. “The thing that inspired him was Blake’s commitment to physical fitness. Blake was a cross athlete, and Jared has dedicated his life almost every day to being physically and mentally fit.”

Mostue had trouble keeping his thick, dark mustache dry. His eyes were watery and red beneath his glasses, and Girardin and Blake’s parents told me he was the top fundraiser for 31Heroes, never hesitant to ask anyone and everyone for a donation.

Mostue said he noticed something different about Blake, back when he introduced his little nephew to duck hunting.

“Blake would not leave until he could call a duck,” Mostue said. “He was persistent.”

Girardin, who also was a mentor to Blake before the student became his teacher, saw something different as well, when Blake was 3. Girardin’s mother ran a home day-care center, so Girardin said his instincts with little kids were sharp.

All it took was a backyard game of Wiffle ball, and he knew.

“His focus, his intensity, I could have pitched to him all day and he’d keep throwing me the ball,” Girardin said. “I identified something different in him right away, and I guess I had hoped to mentor that process along.

“But he flipped things around on me, at some point.”

Later, Blake was a student at Northfield Mount Hermon, a private school in Massachusetts, when the world was turned upside down, on Sept. 11, 2001.

Remember? For those too young, it was the most beautiful day imaginable, on the most horrible day imaginable. No clouds that day in New York City or Washington, D.C., or Stonycreek Township, Pa. No humidity. Blue sky.

When four hijacked passenger planes crashed, it changed our foreign policy, sparked the War on Terror and, in part, now drives the presidential campaigns as the debates approach.

Blake, who played baseball at The Derryfield School and Stonehill College, served two tours in Afghanistan. He was honored with too many medals to name here. He died, an official inquiry said, after suffering a seizure shortly after a training parachute jump in Florida. He was unconscious within seconds of jumping.

His No. 8 was retired at The Derryfield School. Firefighters lined up on Interstate 93 overpasses, from Boston to Concord, saluting his return home. The hearse drove under a giant American flag here.

He was buried at Arlington National Cemetery, with all those other white markers. “Very moving, overpowering to me,” Bill said, “seeing so many young men and women buried there, and really symbolic of what has been given by families in this country.”

Since his death, a woman Blake worked with in Afghanistan, a fellow ambassador to the elderly residents, named her son after him. So did a nephew of Nancy’s. So did a friend of Blake’s.

They were students, too.

I asked Bill for another example of the role reversal he had talked about, of him becoming the student. Once, Blake was riding in the family car, quiet, pensive.

“He told me he was very proud to be a SEAL,” Bill said. “The only angst he had was the pressure it put on his mother and me, but he wanted me to know that whatever happened, he was ready for it no matter if something bad happened to him. He wanted us to stay strong.”

Bill then looked down, staring hard, but seeing nothing in his living room. He saw something else.

“That’s why I say he became the teacher,” he said.

To learn more about Girardin’s bike ride or to donate to 31Heroes, go to wbmtt.net.

(Ray Duckler can be reached at 369-3304, rduckler@cmonitor.com or on Twitter @rayduckler.)

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