San Antonio Express-News (Sunday)
Trail honoring fallen soldier leads to peace
Sometimes places born from tragedy become refuges of healing and tranquility.
Such is the case with the Morningstar Boardwalk, a 3,400-footlong elevated pathway that’s part of the Salado Creek Greenway between Wurzbach Parkway and Loop 410 near Lady Bird Johnson Park.
On Aug. 20, 2010, the city of San Antonio dedicated the walkway to Army Staff Sgt. Christopher R. Morningstar, 27, who was killed in action in Al Husayniyah, Iraq, on Feb. 5, 2006.
The memorial’s sign says Morningstar was “a son of San Antonio and a soldier loved and respected by the troops he led” who “gave his life for his country and the democratic ideals he cherished.”
If you’re biking or running too fast you may miss the markers on both ends of the walkway. Each sign features Morningstar’s portrait. He’s looking past us with a faint smile in the black-and-white image.
“MORNINGSTAR,” on an orange background, catches the eye. The name rolls off the tongue and sends the mind wandering skyward.
Inlaid in the pavement, a mosaic of red, white and blue tiles and a bronze star mark the start of the walkway.
One recent evening, deer in the marshes outnumbered people on the boardwalk. Some of the animals milled close by, indifferent
to the walkers, joggers and bikers. Others stared from the wetland’s banks. One buck hopped onto and then over the boardwalk, continuing, unphased, on his journey.
The shrubs and trees looked like camouflage in their fall mix of browns and greens. The air felt damp, cool. The low sun silhouetted a flock of migrating birds circling in the distance. Songbirds called from the trees, and traffic noise from Nacogdoches Road hummed low in the background.
At the boardwalk dedication in 2010, the Express-News reported Morningstar grew up nearby, rode bikes at McAllister Park,
played with water balloons at Johnson Park and was a Junior ROTC cadet at MacArthur High School.
He graduated high school in 1996 and joined the Army in 1997.
Morningstar, a combat engineer with the 172nd Stryker Brigade Combat Team from Fort Wainwright, Alaska, was killed by an improvised explosive device, along with Army Sgt. Jeremiah J. Boehmer, 22, of Parkston, S.D. They were part of a unit that cleared explosives from routes so their fellow soldiers could pass safely.
Running a few feet over the marshland, the boardwalk is built
from composite materials and covered with a sandpaperlike material. Thousands of screws hold the covering down like rivets on a jet.
Morningstar left behind three children — Victoria, Clayton and Wyatt.
The youngest, Wyatt, now 22, was 6 when his dad died. His last memories of his father are from October 2005. Christopher was on leave, and the family spent time visiting amusement parks, the zoo and the River Walk.
“I just remember those last two weeks of him being here, and then next thing I know, he wasn’t coming home,” Wyatt said.
Wyatt recalls the funeral at
Fort Sam Houston but didn’t comprehend his father’s death.
“I was in denial until I saw the casket,” he said. “And then I took the flag off the casket and was trying to open it.”
Wyatt has visited the boardwalk but hasn’t walked the whole distance. Some paths are hard to walk no matter how clear and straight they may be.
“It’s still kind of hard for me to go to places like that,” he said. “I don’t know, it’s just weird.”
Nonetheless, the boardwalk, a low bridge over rough land, has created an emotional bridge for Wyatt. From time to time, he receives messages of support from people who reach out after learning about his father from the memorial. He’s thankful for the boardwalk.
“I just think about the other families who don’t really have a place to go other than their gravesite to kind of just chill and remember their loved ones,” he said. “A trail is more relaxing than going to the gravesite.”
Naturalist John Muir said, “In every walk with nature, one receives far more than he seeks,” and that rings true at the Morningstar Boardwalk, a path forged by war that’s now a place of peace.
Consider all the conversations, realizations, problems solved, goals set, ideas hatched, memories made and moments of healing so many have experienced on this hidden strip of nature.
The path is a powerful way to honor a native son killed in war.
The living memorial creates peace for those who visit, but it’d be so much better if Christopher Morningstar, and all the others we’ve lost, were still here to walk through life with us.