"They were getting their life together," his father, Rodney Dickison, said yesterday. "They were both very much in love with each other."
Seattle Post-Intelligencer -- Spc. Christopher Dickison, a shy 26-year-old from a close-knit Seattle family who had been stationed in Iraq since January, had recently found the love of his life -- Magdalene Hasenkamp.
"They were getting their life together," his father, Rodney Dickison, said yesterday. "They were both very much in love with each other."
His son was supposed to get out of the Army in April at the end of his third year in the military, but his stay in Iraq had been extended to January 2006.
"He wanted to go to school to be an engineer because of what he had seen the engineers in the Army do," his father said.
But on Tuesday, Christopher Dickison's worst fears came true: A roadside bomb -- an improvised explosive device in military terms -- blew up near his vehicle in a town northwest of Baghdad, killing him.
He wasn't afraid of a firefight, as a letter recommending him for an award for valor testifies, but "he was very afraid of the IED," his sisters and brothers-in-law said.
Those devices can't be confronted like an enemy in a battle, they said.
Nearly a dozen members of Dickison's family had gathered yesterday outside his home, a light peach-colored house in a working class West Seattle neighborhood, to share stories of their brother and friend -- most of them humorous and many involving a few beers.
He was the fifth of six children, the sixth being his twin sister, Ronda.
Standing amid several cars crowded in the little driveway, they pointed out the sculpted front yard that Christopher designed to be a putting green -- he loved golf. He also loved the Mariners and Edgar Martinez, soccer and Tai Kwan Do.
They razzed his memory by kidding him about his Craftsman tools -- he kept them in perfect condition.
"He worked on his truck all the time," his mother, Leanna Dickison, said, "as long as it didn't get his Craftsman tools dirty!"
They laughed and joked, but the stark reality of his death gripped them tightly.
"He was a hell of a nice guy," his mother said, holding up a snapshot of four faces crowded together in the frame -- Christopher, twin sister Ronda and her husband, and Magdalene.
"I'm sure going to miss him," she said, swallowing a sob and kissing his face.
Christopher enlisted in the Army April 2, 2002, Leanna said, because he couldn't find a decent job.
Nevertheless, he embraced his duties with courage, according to a letter he sent to his family in March that was written by his commander.
The letter details how Christopher protected a zone where another roadside bomb had destroyed vehicles, firing on several vehicles that appeared to be trying to run the impromptu blockade and stopping them. Later he joined several raiding parties sent out to look for the drivers of those vehicles.
"Asked if he was ok to stay at the site and join the raid parties forming to clear the local business, shops and local houses, Spc. Dickison told me he was definitely ready," said the letter from Lt. Christopher Distifeno.
Christopher, stationed out of Fort Riley, Kan., was assigned to the Army's 2nd Battalion, 34th Armor, 1st Infantry Division, according to the Defense Department.
His family got the bad news Tuesday at 4:30 p.m.
"I was home alone," his father said. "I looked out the window and saw two guys in dress greens and I knew it wasn't going to be good."
He immediately called family members and as they poured into the home that afternoon, the news was met with outbursts of anger and sorrow -- banging open doors, pounding on cars outside.
"It was sad," said his twin sister's husband, Carlos Herrera, "because you watched while the family walked through it, each entering the house and then screaming and throwing stuff."
Looking back at the front door, Leanna pointed to the long-tailed and fading yellow ribbon hanging next to the door and said, "It will be there until I die."