It didn't work. Though he was thousands of miles away, she could hear him sniffling. He sounded weak.

She pestered him to ask his commander for some rest, but she knew he wouldn't.

"He wasn't a wimp," Nancy Ramos said. "He was going to do whatever he had to do. He was a Marine."

Between tears Thursday afternoon, Ramos choked out the details of what was her last conversation with her middle son. Less than a day later, Hector Ramos was one of the 30 Marines and one sailor who died when their helicopter crashed in an Iraqi sandstorm. Nathan Moore of Champaign died in the crash as well.

When Ramos heard news of the crash, her son's admonition not to worry did not calm her. She called his recruiter, who told her one of those killed was from Aurora, but that he hadn't heard it was Ramos.

"No news is good news," he told her.

She told the recruiter she wanted to know who the mother of the dead soldier was, so she could offer her condolences and send flowers.

Then came a knock on the door.

"I was that mother," Ramos said.

Her grief Thursday was tinged with pride. His mother and others who knew Hector Ramos, 20, remembered him as a Marine and more. They remembered him as a son, a brother, a friend and an artist. They remembered the person he wanted to be. No one seemed to doubt it was who he would have become.

A 2003 East Aurora High School graduate, Ramos returned to talk to the students a year later, said Dick Schindel, his adviser in a student business program. "His advice was that you don't waste your time, and don't do foolish things to blow the time," Schindel said. "He was a mature young man, and that's what makes it even harder."

In Ramos' case, maturity did not mean he was too serious. It meant just the opposite.

"He was always funny, and no matter how sad he was, he'd always try to make you laugh," his 12-year-old brother, Isiah, said.

He often would play pranks, his brother said, and always return ones played upon him, no matter how long he had to plot.

Even in the midst of war in Iraq, his mother remembered, his humor didn't let up.

During a recent conversation she told him how she was proud to be his mother.

His instant retort: "That's your fault."

At East Aurora, like so many other high schools, it would have been easy to get lost in the crowd. Ramos didn't.

The words used to describe him Thursday were repeated often: smiling, friendly, outgoing, creative, talented, involved, fun-loving and proud.

"Some kids just stand out," Schindel said. "He was one."

The SpongeBob costume he wore to school on Halloween for a business club project stood out, Schindel said, as did his fellow students electing him president of the club the first year he joined, as a senior.

"He took the initiative," Schindel said. "He wasn't afraid to speak up. He was a leader."

Beyond that, he seemed to possess everything he would need for success in life. In addition to his creativity, his interest in the club showed he had business sense, too.

Tony Iniguez saw his student going on to video game design or animation.

"He was just excited about serving his country and getting back and doing more art," said Iniguez, his high school art teacher for three years. "When he was here, he was one of the most talented students in his class."

His artwork tended toward the surreal, Iniguez said. He enjoyed drawing portraits of himself and his girlfriend, Jenny Jimenez, who later became his fiancee.

In one self-portrait, his face bathed in oranges and reds reflects flames carpeting the ground. The rest of his body is hidden by shadow. Other than his expression, only his hands are visible. They hold the strings to a puppet, but the puppet is Ramos himself.

He created the drawing to illustrate that he controlled his own destiny, Iniguez said.

That he did, said Pablo Alvarez, Ramos' guidance counselor during his senior year. Ramos had been debating between the Marines or college, where he could study the fine arts and drama at which he excelled.

"It was a way to get the discipline he believed he needed to be successful," Alvarez said.

"He was a great artist," his mother said. "That's what he wanted to do when he was done."

When Ramos talked about the Marines, "He was definitely excited about what he had done," Alvarez said. "… Looking beyond the five blocks you grow up in, you find out the world's a lot bigger."

He first decided to join the Marines on Sept. 11, 2001, his mother said, though the notion had been in his head for years.

Three weeks ago, she watched an old home movie. In it, Hector made up a song about the service. The lyrics that stuck with her were: "Hector beat the war, and that was the end of the war."

But for Nancy Ramos and Hector's father, Aurelio, the war and the agony it can inflict is far from over.

Another son, Noah, 21, just finished Marine boot camp and is on his way home to Aurora to mourn with his family.

Nancy Ramos doesn't know yet if he, too, will be sent to Iraq.

"I pray to God no," Ramos said. "I don't mind him being in the Marines, but don't send my son to Iraq. I lost one son, don't let me lose another. They are my life, they are my world. Without them, I'm nothing."

Funeral services for Ramos are pending.