James Dalton Kilgallon, CPL, USMC. Rest in Peace.

James Dalton Kilgallon, CPL, USMC ~ 28 Oct 1994 – 27 Feb 2019

I am still in and out of time. One week ago, Wednesday, February 27, 2019, my 24 year old son paid the ultimate price to a killer of our veterans, active military, and First Responders. Post Traumatic Stress. My son was diagnosed as a PTS sufferer before he was discharged last June 2018, after five years of service to this beloved country. If there is a valid working support system in the VA for our servicemen and servicewomen, it is not very well briefed to veterans entering the system seeking health. This needs to change. On average, 20-22 US veterans take their own life every day. This number is probably lower than the truth because the stat comes from only about half the states that have a reporting system to delineate veterans from other cases. In reading, I have found the incidence of PTS and suicide among our First Responders is also increasing.

We buried James on one of the coldest days of this year, Monday, 4 March 2019. It was as difficult, even more so, than I thought it would be when I wrote the following on the 1st of March:

“Please bear with me as I write this. I dislike social media as an emotional outlet as I tend to be a private person, but I need to let this out.

Monday I will be a personal participant in a military funeral. My second in my life. The first time I heard the presentation words with the phrase, “On behalf of…a grateful nation…” was at James R. Kilgallon’s funeral on January 5, 1996. My father. He was a 27-year veteran of the US Navy and served in three conflicts. My 14 month old son, James D. Kilgallon was there as well but never got the chance to know his grandfather.

The funeral I am attending Monday is for my now 24 year old son. Yes, James D. Kilgallon, a Marine Corps veteran with six years of service to this nation and its citizens, will be laid to rest. I will again hear those words spoken as the US flag is presented to his loving mother, herself an Army veteran. My throat will constrict, my chest will tighten as I fight my tears while Taps is played. My heart will be filled with both pride and profound sadness, as it is even now. I am proud of the man he became. Proud of the dedication he showed in serving. He loved the Marines. He is a Marine.

Now it gets harder. Many of you know the service my family has rendered. Besides my father, son and his mom, there are others. My sister is a US Air Force veteran. My brother and his spouse-both US Navy veterans. James’ maternal grandfather-a US Army veteran. My son’s half brother-also a Marine veteran. Myself-16 years in the US Air Force. It’s what we do. I’m proud of that too.

I am ashamed though, saddened and angry, at how difficult it is for a veteran in this country to get the benefits and help that veteran needs when the need is greatest. I tried to help and watched as his mom fought the VA for years to get both the help and compensation she needs for her disabilities. Finally resorting to paying an outside agency to represent her in her fight for the proper determination of her disabilities.

James struggled with the VA for nearly the whole eight months between his discharge in June 2018 until he left us eternally on February 27, 2019. He initially had faith in the system but it ignored his requests for help, both physical and mental. Long lines and waiting periods to fill out forms, delays in processing. He went seeking help for a mental disorder and was given a physical… He never really complained to me about his frustration but I hear it, see it, now. Too late. I know, ultimately, it was his decision. If he had gotten the help he expected, the care this government basically promised him, would he have chosen a different path? Maybe, maybe not, but it is an answer I and my family will never know. And it is that for which I will never forgive and never forget.

James, know that I have and always will love you, my son. My Marine. Be at peace and with God, your troubles are over.”


1, 167 as of 1230 hours, 27 Feb 2019