An event occurred on Oct. 23, 1998, that went generally unheeded by national media and the majority of Americans, but for those involved, it was an honor and privilege to participate.

On that day, at Marine Corps Base, Camp Lejeune, N.C., families, friends and fellow marines, sailors and soldiers gathered to remember the sacrifices made by 241 servicemen 15 years ago in Beirut, Lebanon.

On Sunday, Oct. 23, 1983, at 6:22 a.m. an 18-ton truck loaded with dynamite wrapped around gas cylinders and driven by a crazed member of a religious extremist/terrorist group crashed through security barriers and exploded in the atrium of a four-story building.

In that building were more than 300 servicemen, mostly Marines and some soldiers and sailors, who were part of a multinational peacekeeping force sent to Beirut to act as "peace keepers," in a bloody civil/religious war.

The blast was later determined by FBI investigators to be the largest nonnuclear blast ever detonated. The Marine Corps lost more men in that one blast than in any one day since World War II. It collapsed the four-story building into about one and one-half stories of concrete and metal that buried dead or injured servicemen.

When this event occurred, it horrified the world; it was top headlines for weeks. Fifteen years later, most Americans have forgotten it, were too young to remember, or weren't even born.

Of the hundred or so news releases that were sent out to media to announce the event this year, only two or three responses were received. Only one media member out of hundreds who covered the event 15 years ago attended the commemoration. Life goes on.

But for the families, friends and fellow Marines or service members, life stands still when it comes to that day. For them, it is a day never to forget, and the sacrifice these men made will never be forgotten.

They gathered this year, more than 300 of them, as part of a four-day memorial sponsored by the Beirut Veterans of America, an organization whose motto is "Our First Duty Is to Remember."

It would be easy for many people to not realize how important these 241 men were, or the 30 others who were killed and many others seriously injured between 1982-84 while the U.S. was involved in this undeclared war in Beirut. But those who lack the understanding would only have to look into the eyes of some of the survivors to gain insight.

Look into the eyes of the 18-year-old girl who was only 3 when her daddy died in the bombing. She is here to find out about her father from the men who knew him best, his fellow Marines. She searches out anyone who can tell her anything, any story, any tidbit to help her know the father she only dimly remembers. Look into her eyes and tell her you've forgotten.

Face the 6-foot-3-inch burly Korea-era Marine who is the father of one of the men killed in the building. Look into his eyes and watch the tears that still roll down his face as he remembers his boy, a warrior who was in his prime when he was killed in his sleep by a coward. Dare to tell him you don't have time to remember.

Or talk with the mother of one of the young men killed, a mother who, with other grieving mothers and family members, formed the Beirut Connection to keep in touch with others who lost loved ones and support each other as nobody else can. Tell her you have a life to live and don't have time for her pain.

Talk to the man who commanded these Marines, a lieutenant colonel who was himself crushed in the blast, bloodied beyond recognition, and still is in a wheelchair. Tell him America has forgotten the sacrifice he and his men made in the name of national security.

Tell me it's not important as I look into the eyes of my 3-year-old son, and try to imagine how he would handle suddenly having his daddy ripped out of his life. No, don't tell me, because I don't think I'd handle that too well. Rather, just tell me and tell the others that you didn't know, or that you had forgotten, but that you understand, or at least will try to understand.

And tell us that the next time you see a serviceman or woman in uniform, you'll remember the sacrifice made by all service members throughout our history, in every war, declared or undeclared. And tell us that you'll stop them and say thanks, or even just think it to yourself. At the very least, give a brief thought and a word of thanks to the men who made the ultimate sacrifice in Beirut.

Randy Gaddo
Peachtree City