Our Friend Noah Pierce

Noah Pierce, a household name for my family since I was young, now it is name that is remembered for very different reasons. Especially since Noah's clause being brought forward as a new bill for soldiers, facilitated by his grieving mother.

Noah had gone into the military, signing up when he was still seventeen years old. His mother really didn't want him to go since it was right after 9/11 and she knew there would be a war. But she knew her son and knew this is what he wanted to do. She consented eventually; Noah went to boot camp right out of high school, June 2002. The Iraq invasion started March 2003, by July 25^th, 2007 Noah was dead although he was gone a long time before that. He had two tours in Iraq and it had taken the life right out of him, with no spark no life left Noah turned the gun on himself.

It has been a year and half now since Noah has been gone, although most times I can't bring myself to say he is dead. I remember everything about that evening. I was at home in Makinen with Jake and our friend Brandon, when I got a phone call from my friend, Karena, saying there was sheriffs and cops all over my brother, Tyler's place where Noah also lived. Immediately I called my brother he didn't answer then I tried Noah unsuccessfully, so I sent a text to both of them asking if everything was ok. My brother finally texted me back and sent the text message that Noah had sent him "Life's a bitch I'm out bam." I was completely confused. I wrote him back asking what the hell was that, he replied Noah's dead along with many obscenities in between. All I could do is make a strangled noise from my throat and stare at the phone. Right away Jake and Brandon noticed something was wrong and asked me what happened, but I couldn't speak. They ended up taking the phone from me and reading for themselves. I don't really remember what happened after that, if I called Tyler again or what, but I do remember calling my ma. She thought of Noah as one of her own and loved him to death. That was the worst phone call I ever had to make in my life, and the most heart wrenching noise I ever heard my mother make. It sounded like an animal like grief-stricken scream; I cannot imagine what Noah's mom did when she got the text.

Although this is an article about his death and Iraq it is also about his life. He was my brother, Tyler's, best friend since he was a kid; they were always out adventuring all over the Iron Range and getting into trouble. Fishing and hunting were two of their favorite pastimes, and I had adopted the same hobbies. As I got older I hung out with my brother more, especially when I met my fiancé, Jake. We all had a particular interest in common, trout. These past two openers of trout season have been very difficult for Tyler and me. The winter before he died we fished together a lot. I caught my first rainbow trout on a fishing excursion with Ty, Noah and Jake.

One of my favorite stories of fishing with Noah was our Secret lake expedition; this lake became the secret one after our first trip out. My parents were in Mexico and I was taking care of their dogs so Ty, Noah, Jake and I stayed the night there. The boys woke up at four am and got the fishing gear ready, strapping the ice house to the top of my little car. We took off from West Eveleth at four thirty to drive the hour to the lake. Jake had checked with the gps and it was about a mile and a half to the fishing spot on the other end, as the crow flies, and since it was still early in the season, plus a river system, we decided to walk, pulling our ice houses by hand. It was about fifteen below zero with a head wind coming at about twenty miles and hour. By the time we got out to the spot two hours had gone by since we left the landing and the guys' beards were completely white along with my long hair turning white with frost all the way to the ends. First hole we popped we realized we definitely could have driven out and after Jake and Noah had some liquid courage in them they walked back and brought my car out. They checked the odometer and figured out that we really had walked almost three miles that bitterly cold morning. But when we pulled that first crappie out of the ice hole it was worth it, absolutely huge with beautiful coloring. I don't know many people who would brave sub-zero temperatures and miles of walking pulling gear for the crappies, but I guess we're a little on the crazy side.

Noah still reminds us he is here watching over all of us in little ways, and if you are paying attention you would see. The first deer season after Noah had passed I went out after lunch on opening day to see a buck shortly after sitting down in my blind. I am a righty for shooting, so it's easier for me to look out the left, and that's where I had leaned my .30-06 when I had climbed in. Well of course the deer popped his horns out from beyond a tree to my right, and ever so slowly I reached down and grabbed my rifle to take aim. That buck knew I was there and hopped out madder than hell, shaking his head, stomping his hooves, and snorting. I froze knowing if I batted an eyelash that deer would wave its white flag and book it a mile down the ridge. I waited and the buck jumped the trail and into the deep woods between my first and second shooting lane, that's when I started praying. I asked Noah to help me and make that deer turn back instead of typically following the ridge line. Noah answered and that buck turned around and circled back to my second shooting lane. I popped him in the lung between about six trees, in a foot of brown that I knew was his chest cavity. After calling on the radio for help dragging, Jake's dad, Vinko, radioed back telling me to keep waiting for about ten minutes before I checked on the buck. I did, of course, not wanting to screw up this gift that Noah had delivered me. After the agonizing ten minutes I got up and went out, just to have that buck hop up, scaring the hell out of me! I shot again, ran another shell into the chamber and started sprinting through the thick brush getting two more shots off before the deer came to rest with a broken jaw, but definitely dead, not suffering and not going anywhere. I know that Noah helped my out with this deer, my first buck, and I know he'll always be here although not in body.

The other sign he left was a lot more tangible. It was a month after I had shot my buck, and it was trout season. I woke up at five thirty and walked to one of the pits next to Mountain Iron, where we had our permanent house and Noah's old house were. By seven am I had caught a few rainbow trout and decided it was time to write in my fishing notebook, in which I recorded the date, time, weather, depth, jigs and bait used. I grabbed a chair to get to the tall shelves and found an envelope, the kind a pay check would come in. I figured it was Jakes' and opened it up. Upon opening it I was nearly knocked to the floor, it was Noah's pay stub. This was quite odd because he'd only been in our permanent house once before trout season in December and the pay stub was from March and April. During the months on the stub our ice house wasn't even on a lake. I was absolutely stunned and in tears. Even though I was alone besides my dog, Lakota, he still was with me in spirit. I brought the stubs to his ma at the bank; she gave me the copy stub which I still keep in my wallet to this day.

Noah was such a beautiful person from the inside out, and I would have given anything if he could've realized that before he was gone. Now I wear a pendent with his picture on it, needlessly reminding me of the hero and friend we all lost.

oah Pierce, a

household name for my family since I was young, now it is name that is remembered

for very different reasons. Especially since Noah's clause being brought

forward as a new bill for soldiers, facilitated by his grieving mother.