Dan Pucci

To acknowledge US Marine, Dan Pucci's death in Viet Nam on June 2, 1969, Jim Terwood, Class of 1965, with the help of Rich Starn, Paul "Sparky" Adams, and Terry O'Neill have assembled these memories of Dan in his honor.

Thanks .................... may Dan and the others not be forgotten.

From "The Wall", Washington, DC

“Great American Boy”

Got into a little hometown jam

So they put a rifle in my hand

Sent me off to a foreign land

To go and kill the yellow man

Bruce Springsteen

“Born in the USA”

Son, brother, boyfriend, classmate, teammate, Marine and hero. Dan was this and much more than this to those of us who had the honor of knowing him in the brief time we had together. Like a spark flying from a crackling fire, he came into the world and left before we had the time to appreciate the light and warmth he brought to all our lives.

Born in May 5, 1947, Dan died on June 2, 1969, the victim of wounds suffered as a Marine in the Republic of Vietnam. His name is enshrined along with 58,000 more on the “Wall” in Washington, DC and like the others, his friends will never forget him. For his classmates, who also lived the “Vietnam years,” his sacrifice was part of the cruel reality the war brought to our young, innocent lives.

Dan was the second of four brothers who lived on Stanmary Drive in Berea – second child of Alex and Beatrice Pucci. His only sister, Justine, remembers him as her “protector” – helping her with the constant battles a girl endures as the only sister growing up with four brothers. She related how he would come home from the store with a new “45” record and invite her to listen to the “Doors” with him while he was getting ready for a date – then lend her money to “have a little fun.” Justine also remembers the “spirited” side of his personality.

Justine recounted Dan fighting at the Berea Municipal Pool one summer and according to her “he was getting his butt kicked.” She watched from inside the fence as he got up, dusted himself off, admitted he was beaten and went on to become buddies with his rival – it matters not who. But that was Dan, a battler who “wouldn’t back down from anyone – except for Betsy (Baluk), who kept him in his place,” according to Rich Starn, his longtime friend.

Betsy remembers a sweeter, funny and more vulnerable Dan than most people knew. In her words, the teenage Romeo was a “smooth operator” whose pick up line was “Wanna go goofin?” How could a gal resist? She also tells a story of how Dan kicked (Mr.) Fred Schoeck in the butt – thinking he was Terry O’Neill, while he was bent over in the cloakroom before a basketball game. That one didn’t turn out well!

Terry O’Neill remembers “Pooch” as the best teammate he ever had (T.O. has written a great tribute on the site). A football and wrestling letterman, Dan was a scrappy, fiery competitor who worked hard and became a team leader. He also took great delight in regaling his buddies with his off the field exploits, which usually involved cars, girls, beer, cigarettes and occasionally, parents and the police, in no particular order.

Rich Starn recalls a particularly memorable “road trip” with Dan in Jeff Ryder’s ‘56 Chevy, the summer before senior year. It seems that Rich, Dan, Jeff and Jack Thompson wanted to explore the world “outside the Triangle” and headed to Daytona Beach for a little more “goofin.” They stayed a week in a luxurious 12 X 12 cabin, complete with cockroaches. At the beach, the “always true” Dan and Rich wrote “Betsy” and “Donna” in sun tan lotion on their arms. Later that week, when they met a couple young lovelies on the sand, they hastily explained that Betsy and Donna were their “sisters!”

Of course, no teen age “road trip” would be complete without the requisite “brush with the law.” With all four proudly wearing their “Property of Daytona Beach Jail” T-shirts, they made the mistake of strolling into a Georgia restaurant to ask permission to sleep in their car in the parking lot. The owner promptly called the State Highway Patrol. Dan and Jeff Ryder reportedly handled the negotiations very well - and the boys got out of Dodge.

Senior year came and went. Some of us went to college and some of us were drafted. Dan tried college life at Bowling Green and dropped out after two years, returning to Berea. He hung out around town, trying to figure out what to do with the rest of his life. Jack Thompson, a classmate already a “leatherneck,” remembers telling Dan he probably “couldn’t cut it” in the Marines because of their legendary discipline. Dan became a Marine in 1967.

Dan’s Vietnam tour began in August, 1968. A corporal with the 1^st Battalion, 3rd Marine Regiment, he was killed in action in Quang Tri Province while trying to save a fallen comrade. He was posthumously awarded the Bronze Star for valor. His sister Justine, a senior at Berea High in 1969, missed her graduation to attend his wake. Rich Starn, his best friend, would learn of his death while flipping through the pages of LIFE magazine aboard a navy ship, finding Dan’s picture in an article called “One Week’s Fatalities.” Many of us learned about it at college. And we all cried.

Years after his death, Dan’s dog tag was given to his sister by someone who purchased it in Vietnam and returned it to her. She treasures it as a remembrance of a loving brother. The rest of us remember Dan too. Age brings with it the perspective we never had as we walked the halls of high school. We’re now old enough to realize that Dan never had the chance to marry, have a family and play with his children and grandchildren – and the thought makes us cringe at his sacrifice. But he will not be forgotten – Rich Starn called him the “great American boy.” And when he died, some of the “boy and girl” in all of us died too.

Let us never forget him.

Jim Terwood

Pooch

Dan was my teammate on our high school football team. In the autumn of 1964, his senior year, he had fought and scrapped his way to become the starting center. I believe it was the first time he had been named a starter in four years of football. He hadn't quit. He persisted, worked hard and fought his way into the starting job. It was an accomplishment for which he was rightfully proud.

Our team was not among the best in school history. In fact, on the eve of our seventh game, the big, annual homecoming game, we were a woeful 0 and 6.

I had been elected team captain at the start of the season and Coach Bell named a weekly co-captain based on each player’s performance the previous week. Dan was named co-captain for the homecoming game based on his tough play the prior week.

Halftime of the homecoming game found us in an unusual position for the 0 and 6 squad that we were. We were leading our conference opponent, Bedford High School, by a wide margin. We went into the locker room for halftime a happy bunch of players. We knew we were headed for victory that night.

A few minutes into the halftime the coach told me to go out and “do my duty” in the halftime ceremony. Just as I was walking out the locker room door the coach called over to Dan and said “go with him.” Dan wasn’t expecting that. He was obviously surprised and excited as we made our back to the field for the crowning of the queen.

A large homecoming crowd nearly filled the 5,000 seat stadium on a beautiful October night. They were all abuzz over who would be named queen. The band played the alma mater and the candidates, all looking fabulous, had gathered at mid-field with their escorts. It made for quite a scene and Dan and I stood together at midfield taking it all in, waiting for the big announcement, looking forward to “doing our duty.”

Just before the queen was announced Dan turned to me with his usual ear to ear grin and said “look at that scoreboard O'Neill – just look at it.” We were winning - and winning big. Dan was just bursting with pride. All of his hard work and effort was paying off before his eyes. At that moment, for Dan, the crowd didn't matter, the band didn't matter; kissing the homecoming queen didn't matter. Nothing mattered but the victory. The hard fought victory in progress on the field, the progress we had made as a team, and the progress he had made as a player – at that moment was what mattered to Dan. He was as happy as I ever saw him.

His hard work and persistence had paid off. He was rewarded that night with what may have been the proudest moment of his life to that point.

Our season turned around that night. We went on to win that homecoming game and finished the season, winning 3 of our last 4 games. Dan was named co-captain nearly every remaining week of the season.

Terry O’Neill

Dan and I became friends sometime after high school, probably because we had motorcycles and the “triangle” in common. Dan had a motorcycle but didn’t want his parents to know about it, so he kept it at various friends’ houses. When he left for the service or to go overseas he asked if he could leave it with at my house since I had a garage and some extra room to store it. I was happy to do that for him.

I can remember during the summer of 1969 when it was picked up, loaded onto a trailer or into a pickup truck. In my mind, that image was the rider-less horseman in honor of a fallen soldier...........I'll never forget it! I can't remember who picked it up, not much was said as I recall.

Larry Froehlich

MARINES

They live right across the drive from where Mr. Lincoln sits in his white marble splendor.

I like to visit them at night

when the lights

and my image are reflected in the black granite beside their names.

The stone mirror is harsh and real as I gaze back at myself after thirty-seven years.

But, Billy and Danny and Jerry

remain fresh-faced

eternally young

optimistic

forever.

Paul Adams

Washington D.C.

2008

Granite Wall

They built a granite wall for you guys and put it right down there next to Mr. Lincoln.

It’s low and dark instead of tall and bright, but what the hell,

we always were a little different, weren’t we?

“It doan mean nuthin’.”

Remember how we use to say that about everything?

We use to laugh and joke about those ivy league assholes

trying to run a war from a bar on Dupont Circle.

Well, sooner or later those sons of bitches are gonna come down to The Wall.

And when they do, you tell ‘em Danny, you tell ‘em …

“It doan mean nuthin’.”

WILLIAM G.WADE, USMC. OHIO

KIA 21 MARCH 1966

PANEL 6 EAST, LINE 36

DANIEL L. PUCCI, USMC. OHIO

KIA 2 JUNE 1969

PANEL 23 WEST, LINE 47

GERALD C. SEYBOLD, USMC. CALIFORNIA

KIA 28 APRIL 1971

PANEL 3 WEST, LINE 16

I love you guys.

Paul Adams

Washington, D.C.

7 December 1982

June 3, 2009

To everyone that helped to put together the beautiful tribute to my brother, DANNY, thank you. Danny was always so very special to me and I have countless memories that make me smile and sometimes cry. The memories you all shared made me realize he was very special to a lot of people. Danny may be gone, but certainly not forgotten.

I have shared the site with family and from all of us, thank you. To Jim and Cher, Sparky, Rich, Jack, Larry and Betsy...Danny was blessed to have had such friends.

Justine Jacimovic – Dan’s sister.