Captain Kevin Drue Donnelly

Fifth Year Tribute

Copyright 2005

My parents took this picture of all of their children on mom’s piano bench in our small living room. My mom tucked Kevin, in bright red socks, under my right arm, to support Kevin. I remember posing for that picture, and Kevin was so small, he would fall over, unsupported. That’s the kind of relationship siblings have. One supports the other, when they can. When they can. And when they can not, they watch from the sidelines waiting for each other. I remember a brother eager to push himself. This tenacity would greatly serve Kevin – and many others as Kevin’s life charted new courses.

Oh, this is so much bigger than Kevin. Yet his plight, his path must be remembered. You don’t’ want ‘on’ this path. Knowledge and understanding, conversations and sharing will easily prevent this path. Veterans and loving families, friends can prevent this record of Kevin’s history.

If you think you do not know anyone with Hepatitis C, you are wrong. You do. Perhaps the people around you do not know they have Hep C. I did not know my youngest brother had Hep C from military jet injectors for vaccines. His altered medical records reflect the truth. After Kevin’s death, right before Christmas, I did not know my father would be diagnosed with Hepatitis C, from blood transfusions.

Perhaps people around you do know they are diagnosed and are living with the stigma and don’t share. You will be touched by this virus. You will know. It is ‘how’ we deal with the course of events within our lifetime and with the veterans and mutations of this virus that will affect future moments, future events.

The number of people who want to see this ‘true’ story produced into a movie continues to grow. It is a ground-swelling within the trench. I remain startled, stunned and sometimes experience ‘quick’ twinges in my stomach when people contact me. The ground-swelling of men, women, teens, who want this story told, continues to escalate. And, yes, I am being contacted by producers, people are talking. They want to talk. They need to talk.

We have a virus that has numbers from the CDC, Center Disease Control that are over 10 years old. Most highly placed Hepatologists put that number over five million people infected – five million. I understand that currently AIDS has numbers under one million. The five-million number does not include military, veterans, those with no health insurance or prison stats, which the CDC will not include. Their internal numbers are staggering.

"Will you be there for me? Thinking of me every day. Are you my destiny once I dare to say, will you be there for me? Just think of you and me, we could never tow the line. It’s such a mystery" Sarah Brighton, ‘There for Me’

Where is the accurate, detailed information? Where are the facts? How did a virus appear in 1942? Is it man-made? Facts and stats, numbers and truth do not lie, they do not mislead. They inform. They educate. They teach. Facts speak for themselves, silence is unacceptable. We can do better. We must do better. We owe it to our children’s children and to our veterans to prevent others from living our history.

When I read Dr. Wayne Dyer’s passage below, a chill ran down up my spine. I was reading late at night; the comparison to Kevin as he ‘was’ and where his memory is now, jumped out, touching me. In that moment, I committed to beginning the fifth tribute to Captain Kevin Drue Donnelly, 11-14-58 to 8-5-00 with this pole vault comparison. Perhaps others will have a ‘breakthrough moment’ as they read this ‘fifth’ update. I share to plant seeds. The seed may not produce ‘light’ tonight, but you want to accept this invitation to listen.

I did listen, I did document -- never knowing I’d stand before so many, head down, shoulders back, bottom lip quivering, working to bring honor back to my brother’s world, working to bring truth back to my parents’ world. I share as Kevin is not here ‘now’ to lead by example. If he were, he’d be seated at his computer, cigarette lit, resting in his ashtray, to the right of his computer keyboard. A TV with current news would be running in the background; Kevin probably would have music playing, too. Music often propelled him to move forward all his life. Kevin whistled complete tunes to the radio. Sometimes he’d jump up with a quick dance, twirling, wiggling. Then he’d take a deep breath, sit back at his computer, head down, he’d go back to work.

If Kevin were here, Kevin would be working, helping others, initiating new ideas, challenging people to work together, focusing on pundits, politicians, critics who criticize behind ‘walled walls’. Kevin would be challenging and working with the medical community. Kevin believed each, above, was responsible for where we are today.

1. Where are you now in your world with events concerning Hepatitis C?

2. What, if any, events do you think are related to Kevin’s work, research, Kevin’s choices?

3. Finally, what good and bad has happened to you, your family in the past five years?

I gathered information, compiled it. Throughout the update of where people are now five years later, I decided to include emails from my world that gave me the courage, the ‘guts’, the strength to follow my heart, to commit to this path. I don’t think I could have stood in this heat or the pain without the mentors, the conversations, the emails that gave me courage to move forward – even as inaccuracies continued to bubble from within Kevin’s residence and from the people who would not return Kevin’s research or few items Kevin’s parents requested.

This year, I had a second meeting with producers for a film on Kevin and his path, and also met with a new round of people committed to documenting this ‘with’ film. Kevin had shared with a few. He shared the black world he was living, and they, with strangers, continue to request a documentary, film to share the truth. Every single person, to date, that has crossed my path continues to tell me, to encourage me, to move forward, to never forget, to ‘not let go’.

And there have been personal sacrifices, as well. After being in the Hep C trenches since 12-28-97, my brother dying with Hep C, 8-5-00, my speaking at an International Hep C rally 5-23-03 delivering the only eulogy Kevin has received since his death – my dad was diagnosed with Hepatitis C, 12-16-03. Just as I typed the sentence above, my phone rang. My dad, in a grand voice, asked: "What are you doing"? I paused, then shared this project – silence – They still work to move forward without their youngest child.

Mom’s handwriting on the back of this picture is: Dad and I with our Cowboy hats on, San Antonio, Texas, 1/86.

I had written on the back of this picture: Kevin’s house the day mom and dad picked me up from the airport, 3/82.

Mom then added, "I’ve said all my prayers for him and will continue to do so … and after a while God takes over. God is taking care of Kevin now. And I love you, honey." Yes, folks, this path continues to take my breath, causing my heart to skip just one moment. I listened to my mom, then said, voice-cheery, "Good for you, mom. I’m proud of you." Mom doesn’t see me lower my head or hear the sudden intake of breath. I’m there for my mom, my dad, just as I’m here still for Kevin and this path, this dang, Hep C path. After I finished speaking to my mom and my dad, I reluctantly walked back to this chair, to this computer, hit the ‘start’ button with on CD player, put my shoulders back, chin forward. Now I’m back in the trench for Kevin, again. Will you accept my invitation to plant seeds?

Kevin had a full life ‘pre’ his Hepatitis C diagnosis. As his world shifted, this ‘buddy stayed in the trench with Kevin, the truest of true friends, looking after a brother, a neighbor, veteran. When I contacted him to ask where he and his family are five years later, this is what we chatted about, what Kevin’s Buddy shared. I phoned, explained my quest, my reasons for wanting to include someone who was so enclosed within Kevin’s private world. He listened, without one word. I winced, hesitated and shared he could have the opportunity to be included, but I wanted to also give him the opportunity to decline. The ‘opportunity’ was the reason I ‘had’ to phone. Initially, we spoke softly, we listened to each other; cautiously we laughed together. Later, we roared with laughter remembering the determined, stubborn-willed, army veteran, his wit, his humor, and when we ended our chat, we both ended whispering softly to each other: "I love you."

Out of the pain, there is hope, there is strength. Here is the truest personal update five years to the date of Captain Kevin Drue Donnelly’s death with Hepatitis C. This veteran, neighbor, father, still ‘talks’ to Kevin every day. Each day, he drives to work early, sitting outside in his car, before going into his office. Each day, he now prays for Kevin to protect his son, overseas on the frontline, in Iraq. Almost every day, something occurs where he and his wife, look at each other and think of Kevin. Often, they say, "this one’s for you," as they look to the sky. They have moved on, their children, youngsters who played with Kevin, have matured, memories with Kevin, remain. This veteran’s children was gifted our dad’s motor bike from Kevin. His family has gifts that Kevin gifted them from his Germany tours, Europe, Kevin’s world travels. They have the true gifts, gifted from Kevin himself; Kevin’s hands extended out, their hands receiving. I’ve seen the gifts in their home and smiled.

When the contents of Kevin’s office and residence were scattered by ‘next of kin’ without regard to requests from Kevin’s mother and father, one of my consolations was that this neighbor and family have gifts that Kevin hand-carried to their home. This veteran lowered the American flag, per my request, after Kevin’s funeral, when no one lowered the flag or turned a light on in front of Kevin’s residence, five days after his death. This family was very special to Kevin, and I thank God they had each other during the good years, and during the hard years after Kevin’s Hep C diagnosis. This veteran, neighbor, father, remembers when "Kevin was physically very active in all sports, the neighborhood, the kids in the area. Within a matter of a year, all his physical activity was gone. We just didn’t understand it. He had been so physically active, and then was hurting throughout his whole body. He had spots, swellings. I saw them; he showed some to me, but he was proud and often tried to make a joke out if. But all his physical activity was gone within one year."

Now – five years later, since Kevin’s death – the Veteran who stepped in so often to help Kevin when he was alone in his home, when no one was eating with him, when no one was shopping or purchasing groceries for Kevin, this is the veteran who drove Kevin to the emergency room around 3:30 a.m., the last Christmas he was alive – this neighbor and family truly was there, each day, each night. Often they smoked a cigarette in the middle of the street, late into the night, debating, laughing, arguing, supporting each other with their daily ‘current events’, life’s challenges. Sometimes this veteran’s wife would order the two veterans to meet in the middle of the street, so they could get over being upset with one another after a heated debate – and ‘to move on with it, already’.

In the middle of the street often in the middle of the night, after Kevin’s diagnosis, Kevin shared his world, his triumphs, his anger, his frustrations with others not being helped – as Kevin became more ill, became more alone and became more involved helping veterans and families.

Kevin made a choice; this veteran, neighbor was there 100 %. He was there, per Kevin’s request, when the sheriff removed Kevin from his residence and office, at the court-ordered request of Justine Velocci Lomonte Donnelly. I documented this in earlier tributes. The truth is public knowledge now. This veteran was in the vet’s car returning videos at Blockbusters, per Kevin’s request, when Kevin phoned Tina, now a widow, that night a nurse working the ER shift at Massapequa Hospital, pleading for his Hep C research, information, to continue Kevin’ work, so Kevin could do a live Army radio show the next morning.

This veteran, neighbor, buddy, was the last person to speak to Kevin. He and his wife watched Kevin walk away, turn the corner, head down, shoulders hunched forward. Kevin was smoking a cigarette -- carrying a small suitcase, which sheriffs forced him to pack as he was evicted from the residence. Kevin began his last journey, a choice Kevin made, to go home, to the residence containing all his research, his notes, his world after all his requests were refused. This is the residence where Kevin painted walls, hung doors, planted bushes, manicured a Bonsai garden, manicured the outside yard during his healthy days, and where prior to his diagnosis, Kevin had made the decision to be ‘a-stay-at-home-dad’ for three stepdaughters. The residence where he lived and worked, contained the work Kevin predicted would never be returned to the Hep C community. The residence contained items of Kevin’s birth family (his mom’s and his dad’s family). Kevin predicted items would never be returned to his parents.

"Well, by and by, way after many years have gone, … It’s up to you and me brother, To try and try again. So, hear us now, we ain’t wasting no more. Don’t forget the pouring rain." The Allman Brothers

This is me, Kevin’s Sister, looking up ‘to’ her baby brother, Kevin. The back of the pictures reads: December 28, ’76, 4:00 a.m.!

Email received from Kevin’s friend and member within Hep C community, Carrie Sue Suldovsky, 2005:

"The HCV is still part of me, with the knowledge I got from (Kevin) I stand firm on the choice to not treat.  Not until there is a cure. Since I never sought treatment it was not hard to say ‘no’.  I had a new insurance plan ‘before Kevin crossed himself over’, when that went into effect, I sought out a PCP doctor who would hear me. As time went by she understood that I knew my condition, and that I read all about it much of the time if something new is ‘out there’ I have knowledge of it.

In the course of life with the HCV and being a pre-menopausal women I had to have my gallbladder out.  Since they (doctors) were going to be in there anyway, they did a biopsy.  It showed my liver was at the half way mark.  When the report came back, one doctor after another tried to ‘talk me into’ treatment.  When the topic came up in my PCP doctor’s office, I said, well, I'm not into doing it.  (Keep in mind one of the things I've been keeping tabs on was the drug companies who give ‘perks’ for the doctors who put people on treatment.)  The doctor started with a sales pitch, and I said, well, I don't think it is a good idea.  The PCP doctor said, but I have one person who just cleared after only five weeks!  I said ‘Good what genotype were they a B?"’  Then the doctor went on to ask, ‘Oh, what is your genotype?’  I said don't know there is no reason to have that test I never wanted to treat.  When the lab work came back showing I have a very RARE to the U.S. type (4) it just reinforced what Kevin and I both agreed on long ago this is a Man-made condition.  (4 is only found in Egypt and a small pocket in Central Africa!) 

Now no one can tell me that the WHO (World Health Organization) and the CDC (Center for Disease Control) didn't have anything to do with the people who got this from infected gamma globulins.  I know it was not something anyone did on purpose; it still happened, and all those who went to Viet Nam are walking proof of that.When my husband went to the V.A. for his first checkup that was one of the things they ran a test on him for.  He was a lucky one since he went into the Army in 1962, he missed out on the HCV infected shots. In just the past few months I've had a meeting with a local doctor who agreed to take me on. 

He runs a low-income clinic and since I am very, very low income I don't have to pay a full co-pay of $20.00 to be seen in his clinic.  He agreed that a gamma globulin given in the mid 1960s very well could have been the way I was infected, but he didn't have to agree; I know that is how I got this little bugger!

Every time there is another ‘break’ in HCV I think of Kevin,  and he may not be here in a body ‘earth suit as another person who knew him would say’.  He is still alive in my heart, and I know that in time the battle of HCV will be won. The big thing is that when it is won so will cancers of most types. Kevin was such a wonderful caring person. Now looking back, I think of the things that happened that got to him. 

Lester Tucker had been a Vet who needed a transplant; Kevin fought tooth and nail to make the Vets pay for that and help him out.  But sadly, he never woke up from the surgery.  That stuck Kevin too hard; he had fought so hard to force them to give him a liver, and yet he could not live to know how it would work. Monette, HCV was something your Brother faced.

Please remember this one thing.  ‘Life IS A GIFT’. Yes, it is, and the fact that your brother's life touched mine is just one example of what a wonderful time we live in. Please, if your Mom and Dad ever vacation in Idaho again tell them I would love to meet them. ‘They had stayed in the town my Mom and Dad lived in Kamiah.’ It was one of the threads Kevin and I had that kept us talking about real life. I'm just so sad he never did open up and tell me the problems he faced with his home life.  I know it is to late now, but I also know he would never air his dirty laundry to someone he didn't know that well.

Susan (Lester Tucker's wife) has remarried and is doing o.k. I do not have an e-mail address for her, I'm so sorry but I just do not.   When Lester passed away before waking up (after his second transplant), she had to leave the world of HCV message board's behind.  She did check in at one point about a year ago to let folks know she was still o.k.

How I got to know Kevin was he got his computer the same month we got ‘online’; I had been using a computer for some time as I work for a school.  But we did not have an Internet connection for a long time.  Then when Kevin and I found each other it was from off a message board that at that time was called SHN.  He, Deborah, Sally and a few others got the heck out of there (SHN message board) as it was kind of a toxic place, due to the fact that three or four people thought they owned the board, and other things.  The same message board went on to be sold to the company called WebMD.  (But that was long after Kevin and I met, and left that board.)

I think that the big thing that tied Kevin and I, other than the HCV given to us both by a shot that should prevent Hepatitis, was that I'm married to a ‘Vet’; my husband went into the Army in Hamilton OH.  He slipped by going to Viet Nam by the skin of his teeth; he was short eight days of the time his unit was to be over there so he spent the last months of his time in TX.  (After he first did a trip to Korea) He was just one of the few lucky men, in many ways.  One, he never had to see Viet Nam, and two he missed out on the gamma globulin that was infected (or as Kevin found out mutated). I miss Kevin today as much as I missed him the first year.

I will tell you that when I first heard he was dead, I in my head (I'm not the only one on this) I thought that someone in our government had ‘knocked him off’ so when I learned a year later that he had taken his own life it removed some ‘fear’, but I still had an uneasy feeling about the whole thing.  I know it is painful for you as you being his sister he was a (real life) person.  I, and the whole HCV community, sure wish you could have found the ‘zip disks’; he had everything he was working on saved on ‘Zip disks’. 

Feel free to stay in touch, I plan to be around in my (earth suit) for some time.  "I want to see grandkids and so far no-one has any kids on the way." Carrie Sue Suldovsky

I received this email from a friend, veteran, who had requested information after hearing the rank on Kevin’s tombstone was incorrect, August 17, 2000:

"Thank you for the info on Kevin. I lost my Brother many years ago. It has taken that long to realize I'll never get over it. The pain is not as sharp as it was. Instead of thinking about Him every minute, it's down to a few times a day. I know this doesn't sound encouraging, it's just reality. Give yourself a lot of time and lead-way. 

I was recently divorced when my Brother died, and I stayed alone for years, wrapped in thick shell of pain nobody could get through. Friends said I was like a wounded Tiger in His den, alone, dangerous. I'm glad you won't have to go through that, It's no way to live. Take care, Be safe."

I received this email from a mentor August 17, 2000:

"Monette - I'm so sorry to learn of your brother's death. Though I never knew him, I'm sure he was a special and beloved person. I hope you and your family will find peace in coping with your loss. I know what you are going through. In 1966, I lost my sister with whom I was very close, to when she was just 22. Despite the passage of 30+ years, the hole her death left in my life has never been filled, even though the grieving ended long ago. In time, your grief, too, will pass, but you will always cherish the memory of Kevin."

I received this from Kevin’s best friend September 20, 2000:

Your email gave me more insight into the situation. I was only trying to be objective, perhaps I was too much so. You are right about the disrespect to your parents on this. I had not thought of that. I hope to get out to Calverton next month, just to check up. I will place flowers on behalf of your parents and then I will write to them. In the meantime, please let them know I have not forgotten about them. I love and respect them too much just to send out a ‘sympathy’ card. I need some time to let this settle with me, and then will write them from my heart. I hope you also understand that ( I know you do!)."

"Love changes everything, how you lay there, how you die. Yes, love, love changes everything. It brings you glory, it brings you shame ... Nothing in the world will ever be the same." Andrew Lloyd Weber

Email I sent to Kevin’s best friend, also a deacon, four hours after I was told Kevin was ‘gone’, August 5, 2000, requesting he attend funeral:

"I have tried to phone, but your number is not listed. I was informed a few hours ago that Kevin Drue Donnelly passed away last night, August 4, 2000, 41 years old. Kevin will be waked at Dalton Funeral Home, New Hyde Park, NY on Tuesday (hours now are 2:00 - 5:00 and 7:00-9:00).

His wife has made plans to have him buried in Calveton (sp?) in the military section. This is out east on Long Island, near Riverhead. I have requested that a military funeral … as yet, such plans have not been made. My younger brother flew to San Antonio, TX, today with his son to visit my parents and elder brother. Dad had aggressive cancer surgery late June. This was his first time to see my parents (since dad’s surgery, per dad’s request so he could recuperate). Due to the flight restrictions, my brother will not be able to attend Kevin’s funeral. Due to the family gathering in Texas, I will fly alone to witness and attend Kevin's funeral.

I received this email from a veteran, friend when I was working to process and understand the inaccuracies, the disrespect to Kevin’s memory and to his parents from people within Kevin’s residence August 16, 2000:

"The more I hear about Kevin, the more impressive he becomes. There is NOTHING better than an officer who thinks of his men first and himself last. I haven't seen that many who do. I grieve with you for the great loss Kevin's death means to all."

Bruce Burkett, veteran, friend, 2005. Bruce and I met during the 2003 Hep C Rally in Washington DC, and Bruce returned my phone call when I reached out after dad’s diagnosis:

If I was truly brave, I would say ‘This is a sister seated between two people who have yet to be diagnosed with Hepatitis C.’ We were in a cave, seated together, one hot Texas day, seeking to escape the heat. After I included my picture here, ‘then’ I phoned my dad requesting permission to share. My dad, Kevin’s father and a veteran, paused without one word for a long moment. Then my dad laughed and immediately said, quote, “Yeah, sure, why not? I don’t think it of all the time. Sure, go ahead. If it will help others, go ahead and use it. I still don’t understand all of this.” I treasure this picture, Kevin, Monette and Dad.

I received this email via Internet:

"I prayed last night for you ... You need a bigger dog to nip the little dog and get him off your heel. Then, the big dog can go after the rats in the junkyard. Good luck."

"Judge success by what you had to give up to get it." Dalai Lama

I also received this email from a friend of Kevin’s, Hep C support leader, 2005:

"I think of Kevin always, and he was a wonderful human being who was the only one who really understood Hepatitis C many years ago. Everything he tried to tell people about this disease all turned out to be true. I love and miss Kevin very much and think of him quite often to this very day. I need to sing you a song over the phone because I don’t know the title, but it was Kevin’s favorite song! He would always send me dancing animations with the song in the background. Whenever I hear it I think of him, and how wonderful it was when he was with us.

I cared a lot for Kevin, and he was a lifesaver to me. I really didn't know that much about Hepatitis C, and I feel that he leveled with me and did the type of investigating that others ignored. It made sense what Kevin said about the disease and many of the doctors, and even advocates, were far behind Kevin’s knowledge. He was one smart guy who didn't pull any punches. I then became an advocate with my own organization, and I will never forget Kevin’s help, support and wisdom when I was first diagnosed and needing help in understanding this disease.

It was good talking with you. Yes, you are like (Muhammad) Ali for sure, but you are strong like Kevin, and he is with you and guiding you every day. I will keep in touch!"(I had shared that I feel like Muhammad Ali with a double punch having a brother diagnosed with Hep C, and after his death, Hep C advocacy, assisting myself and others, and then after my dad’s diagnosis, I ‘hurt’.)

The song that Kevin sent and sang to this lady, and which she hummed and sang to me last week:

Kevin’s favorite group to his best friend was Marshall Tucker. His favorite group to a neighbor was Allman Brothers. His favorite group to others was Boz Scaggs. Music was the foundation that grounded Kevin. This sharing was special to others and to Kevin.

An email I wrote to a mentor, educator, religious counselor, requesting the correct rank on Kevin’s tombstone after learning his rank of ‘Captain’ was incorrect and the tombstone listed his rank as Second Lieutenant, 9/09/00:

"Do you know how I can obtain the military status of my brother, Kevin Drue Donnelly? He was a Captain in the USAR, after filling one tour in Germany. He was denied, in writing, his rank of 'Major,' received at his home, two days after his death on August 7, 00. I have recently learned that the 'grieving widow’ (also a veteran) has given information to Calverton National Cemetery, Riverhead, NY, that his is a '2nd Lt.' That is what will be on his tombstone until I can prove that he was a Captain. Do you know how I may obtain this information?"

Response to above email: "As far as retrieving things from your brother's grieving family, I don't know. I sense a bit of ‘distance’ between them. I don't know the full story. Is there anger on their part? Are they upset with somebody or something? Are they possessive and don't want to let go of his things? Don't they realize how much you meant to him and he meant to you? Aren't they willing to share with you? I know, I know, a lot of unanswered questions. I would hope that mutual understanding could be worked out among all, keeping in mind what your brother would want. Give me a call some day when you get a chance and let me ‘listen’ to you. My gift from God is to listen to people."

Email I received from a mentor when reviewing a letter I had drafted to send to Kevin’s widow on behalf of my parents, September 26, 2000:

"Outstanding letter. I think the offer of the Waterford crystal glasses going to Kevin’s stepchildren is very considerate. If this woman doesn’t return these things to you, she would be a real first class _____. In fact, it would get me mad enough to want to kick her butt all the way into the Pacific Ocean. Maybe she’ll change her approach and decide that being a human being is worthwhile after all."

Email I received from Internet:

"1. Call the nearest VA hospital, explain your situation and have the records verified (explain you are a relative, etc).

2. Call the nearest recruiting office and ask for a phone number, web address, etc., to go to find information.

I would also suggest on the Internet, going to the U.S. Department of the Army and then doing an online search until you get to the proper place. Let me know if this works or doesn’t work. I can’t believe that the widow would be so %*@*! Stupid. Blessings and prayers."

Email received from Kevin’s childhood friend:

"I sent a card to your parents and wrote them a note. I visited Kevin’s site in early November 2000. It was still dirt and no stone marker, but it looked as if they noted his stone for a correction to Captain."

Email from members within the Hep C community, 1/01:

"Well, the conversation just did not go well at all I’m sorry to say. Tina would not put me through to Michelle. I talked with Tina in length about Kevin and I working together and what it would mean to me. She told me that she did not want me to call back and she resented the calls to her. That she was Kevin’s wife (nine years, second marriage for both) and those things had more meaning to her than to any of us. She resented me asking. I suppose I should have waited and continued calling until Tina answered, but I really feel that Tina would be short stopped… (with) the computer. She is really on the defensive, and I won’t repeat some of the things she said. Anyway, I’m sorry and I tried. I don’t think you will get that computer from her as long as she has custody of it. She says it’s her computer and that she purchased it and that Kevin was just using it. She said the computer stays. I’m sorry."

Kevin Drue Donnelly created statistical charts, (he showed each to me) when he was an employee of Equitable. Picture dated in his handwriting, 1986.

Then, I know, my brother, Kevin, would review how he was given the Hep C diagnosis, how Kevin was given inaccuracies. Kevin would share how he began to ‘hunt for his own truth’ with medical records, reviewing past activities, and Kevin would share now how he discovered, alterations, inaccuracies within his military medical records. (I documented this in the first tribute ‘anniversary’ sharing, "He Was A Brother, A Vet, and He Died Before His Time.")

Kevin would say if inaccuracies involved:

1. After diagnosis, a letter arrived at his home from the military stating he must have acquired this disease from ‘homosexual activity or intravenous drug use’;

2. A representative knocking on his door from the local cemetery. Kevin called over his shoulder, "Tina, it’s for you," and went back to work, then Kevin phoned people to share his world and he requested to be buried with the military comrades, requesting Arlington;

3. A biopsy he later learned, performed by Dr. Melissa Parker was used, in part, as part of research, perhaps to be sold (Kevin wrote a letter complaining in writing about the procedure and doctor to NY State Department of Health);

4. His widow floated a theory that there was a spare bullet left on a dresser the moment of Kevin’s death with neighbors, Kevin’s birth family, immediately after Kevin’s death and shared he was waiting for others on his last night on earth (an inaccuracy that police, law enforcement and others later proved to be absolutely inaccurate by every professional in the residence who documented the truth);

5. Kevin’s birth family, each, was told this inaccuracy, in real time, as we were told of his death;

6. The American flag initially was not going to be over a 22-year veteran’s casket until I phoned the Dalton Funeral Parlor with facts and promised to make a scene during the entire wake (Kevin received his ‘flag’ in return for ‘no obituary’, negotiated by his widow to Kevin’s Sister through the employee of the funeral parlor) The employees in the funeral parlor insisted the widow did not request, nor had completed paperwork for military status, which would automatically ensure the flag;

7. Kevin’s rank was incorrect on his Calverton Cemetery tombstone, papers filed incorrectly by Kevin’s widow;

8. Kevin’s predictions would each come true -- to include his research not being returned to the Hep C community, items important to his mother and father’s family would not returned -- multiple other predictions – predictions which included the size of the wreaths during Kevin’s ‘wake’ and the verbatim quotes on wreath ribbons – each 100% true, frightening accurate to some of us.

With these inaccuracies, and there are more – well, folks, Kevin would stand tall and would pronounce: "Each source of each of these inaccuracies would prove to have a credibility problem. The facts speak, data speaks, correct sources are well known and documented. Move on!" Then Kevin would fold his charts, put his facts away and would get back to the important items, discovering why there is such a virus, and what we can do to help veterans and people with this disease.

Kevin would share how he worked to find answers for himself as he helped others online, answered emails, returned phone calls – while his phone lines began to be tapped, military vehicles drove by his house, parked on his small cul-de-sac, bushes were run over in his yard – odd things began to occur in his world. Kevin would shake his head and go back to his bunker, back to the trench. Kevin would share how he gathered information for people to contact their politicians, how to ask specific questions to their doctor(s), how to reach out when others were alone, when others were ‘thinking’ they were ‘alone’.

Kevin would extend his invitation to others day and night. Will you accept my invitation to share, to help others? Kevin would share how his Hep C advanced without medical treatment as his personal world turned on a dime when he decided not to sell the rights to "The Panama Story" a book he wrote, one chapter a night, available on the Internet for free. Kevin always said, "If I sell my work, my research will never be taken seriously. I do not want my life defined by the activities of people in this house. I will not sell my research or my story."But Kevin did document and share with others. He asked them to hold the records, packages he mailed, items he personally wrapped and sent, so ‘history would know.’ This ‘is’ the truth, folks.

Kevin wrote articles, collected data, researched the CDC, Red Cross, Rockefeller Foundation – he spent hours and hours on these groups. Kevin gathered information and data from the Freedom of Information Act, documenting in depth their fingerprints with a trail of ‘viruses’ and ‘illnesses’ and history of Hep C. Kevin sorted through ‘tribes’ (my term) when people took stances that were not based on facts, stats, numbers, education. Kevin did write about the history of how the virus was man-made, documenting the series of events 1941, 1942 and forward. Read his "The Panama Story" free, on this website.

I also received this email:

"… you can talk directly to a person’s spirit now and help them. It takes some time to withdraw from the body ... the Tibetans say weeks, in fact...that is, death begins weeks before the final breath is taken. At that time the spirit can be reached, and it is good for a relative or friend to sit with it mentally, a bit each night, and tell it what is happening and not to be dejected. We don't have anything like the Tibetan book of the dead for our culture, but basically they remind the spirit of its divine nature, and that it is a natural thing which is happening and not to be confused or concerned.

I was forwarded this email last year, immediately, after posting my Fourth Tribute to Kevin, 2004:

"Thank you so much. This is a great way to start my day. I had given up trying to find the tribute to Kevin a few months ago. I had read it last year, had saved it to my favorites, and I would often go to the link and read from it. I lost the link when my computer crashed a few months ago, and (once I was up and running), I couldn't remember his last name and didn't know how to find the tribute anymore. I looked and looked -- to no avail -- and now – here it appears. Great way to start my day! It's one of the best things I've ever read."

Email received from a colleague:

"You did a very good job, Monette!  It's just such a sad story, but with the facts as they exist, there's not any other spin that could be put on it, and it touches emotions in the reader that probably aren't touched often, which can be a good thing.  Just knowing he went through all that mostly alone is tragic, and your descriptions of the same are so vivid that it makes me very sad to read it. Your writing also educates the reader, as I've learned many things about a disease I have heretofore known little about. I personally know two people who have it right now, and it helped me understand more of what they are dealing with."

Email received from a colleague:

"Just a quick note to say "Bravo" on your article (writings). I’m glad to know you’ve gotten a lot of support … on the Hep C issue. I’m sure there are hundreds of thousands just like me, who knew relatively nothing about it until you came along. I’m sure Kevin is watching over you with a protective and extremely proud eye. What a sister you are."

Email received from an acquaintance:

"Monette, do you ever smell anything when you think of your brother?  Have you ever caught the faint scent of something while reviewing his life? For while I was reading this (his first tribute), a pleasant but unfamiliar odor of something like, but not exactly like, lilac, came over me! As soon as I was done reading, it was gone. I didn't really realize it until the very end. Curious."

Email received from the Internet::

"Woke up this morning to the strains of the X-Files theme song in my head. Strength, my friend."

Email received from a member within the Hep C community:

"My sympathy's to you and your family on Kevin's passing.  It was indeed sad knowing a good person like him has gone on.  No, I didn't know him personally, I just knew him from the hepv-l support list.  He gave such good advice and support for hundreds of people, and I think it's a wonderful thing you are doing to go on and continue his work."

Email received from someone who knew Kevin and worked with people within the Hep C community:

"For (Tina) to have treated Kevin as such, and then have the nerve to say to someone who knows the truth, that ‘these things mean more to me because he was my husband’, especially since she's in health care and knows the ramification's of such treatment, behavior is ... inhuman, which is the only word to describe it. If you’re in a vindictive mood sometime, we can compose a letter from the Hep community that starts out like the subject line. It could go on to say that the Hep community knows of your relationship with Kevin, (Tina's) the isolation and mental cruelty you subjected Kevin to is intolerable from another human being. Your (Tina's) withholding of Kevin's latest research has been seen as a blow to those that suffer with the same disease that would have taken Kevin's life. This research may in the end have pointed to the origin of this mutated virus, and if it was man-made, could have forced an infusion of research funds that would rival AIDS and Cancer. The peace of mind that you are willingly withholding from millions of infected sufferers is despicable. You should be ashamed of yourself. If the saying, ‘What comes around, goes around’ is true, as one hopes, then you are in for a not so pleasant rest of your life, etc. You can type it, send it out here, and we can mail it."

(I received many, many emails like this and declined all requests.)

Email received from friends of my mom and dad:

"Your ongoing account of the events preceding Kevin's death are so sad. We did not know of the divorce - just one additional problem.  You can take comfort in the fact that you did visit him and kept in touch and made that sad final journey to attend his funeral.  You should have no regrets.  I hope that the family relations can work themselves out over time. And I hope that Kevin's work and research is not lost to all those who depended on him. We have many friends who have lost children, and each handles it in his or her own way.  Some refuse to talk of the death.  Mothers will say that the child's name was never mentioned after he died.  The father wanted it that way.  But it always seemed to me that to deny the death was to deny the life and that is not what I would want.  The family dynamics are forever changed; sometimes it makes the bond stronger, sometimes it divides. Like you, I also think that your dad was trying to keep busy on 11/14/01 - so he wouldn't have time to think - but it doesn't work that way.  It is an emotional day and the accompanying stress does make one more prone to mishaps.  That is what I meant by saying that I was not surprised about the date that this accident happened." (The first birthday that Kevin was not here, my dad, in an effort "to keep busy that day" fell off a ladder and broke his shoulder.)

Email received from Hep C community:

Email I received from a colleague after attending Kevin’s funeral:

"I'm so sorry to hear of all the things that have hit you.  How blessed you were to be able to help your family and be the one to be there for your brother.  You can be sure that in such a difficult time you were a big help to your parents.  I hope you are feeling better each day, and I hope your dad is getting better each day."

Email received from a member within the Hep C community:

"I was shocked when I visited the website this morning and learned of Kevin's death. I had no intention of even visiting the site today but for some reason I did. My husband has been fighting Hep C with PCT for the last two and a half years thru the VA hospital in Indianapolis. Several months ago, I put out a general E-mail on a chat room - don't even remember which one - asking for help and information with the VA claims process – Kevin was the only answer back I received and his help was valuable beyond any expectation I had.  Not only the guidance he gave, but the hope he conveyed to fight for the rights of our Vietnam vets has helped thru many a long night when my husband was going thru his treatments. I for one will sadly miss a man I never met, but feel I knew."

"The things you can’t remember are the things you can’t forget -- that history puts a saint in every dream …" Tori Amos

Email received from a member within Hep C community:

"That tribute to Kevin, the Captain, was very beautiful indeed.  God, I had just spoken to him via the internet and I did not know that he was so near death.  He never talked about his own problems, as you said just tried to help others. It was a shock for me.  I too have HCV and contracted it via blood transfusion, active duty.  I failed treatments, as I was a non-responder. I am a fully disabled vet now, but I did build my own website.  I had asked Kevin before he passed if I could mention him on my site, and that is my tribute to him.  I will tell everyone I know.  They try to make you feel ashamed of having HCV, like its dirty or something.  But, well, I am not shy and I believe the Captain did a great service to veterans."

Email received from member within Hep C community:

"That place where ‘member stories’ are posted is a ‘spin off’ of the old SHN broad (Now called WebMD) where I got to know Kevin.  As time passed, Kevin soon left (SHN), that place had way too much fighting about who was right. And the truth is each one of us has to find our own path.  That goes for all of life, no matter what it is about, each of us has an internal guide of what is right and what is wrong.  Kevin stayed in touch with me after the first few months.  Sometimes his e-mail would just be a cute joke or a way of looking at life to make you laugh.  Other times he was just saying ‘Hi!’ We cannot change what was -- only try and live life as it is. And know that your brother has a good soul, so I know that he is in a fine place.  *He may even be able to read e-mail* :) Carrie Sue Suldovsky

Email received from a member within the Hep C community:

"To all my friends on shore--I lost one of my Hep C activist friends to Hepatitis C -- The Dragon.  In his honor, I am going to include an html that you can click on to go read about this extraordinary man:

http://www.oocities.org/hepvet//Kevin.html

Many of you on my list did not know Captain Kevin Donnelly.  He spent the last several years of his life helping veterans, and doing deep field research on Hepatitis C, and emailing out all the studies, abstracts, other pertinent information - some only available due to the Freedom of Information Act - to a rather large group of us activists out here on the internet.  His work is invaluable, both his work to help vets, and his deep field research.  His work with the vets was a key factor in opening the doors of the VA to help veterans afflicted with Hep C, and his deep field research has profound implications for the world at large. Kevin was not finished working that research into a cohesive whole yet, and we activists who are left have a sacred obligation set before us to do! I will miss my friend Kevin.  We exchanged email, shared information, gave each other encouragement, talked on the phone, joked about seagulls, and understood - at a deep level - each other's loss to this disease. The best way I know how to both honor Kevin and fight The Dragon, is to give people information, to be sure that once that cohesive whole is reached, people are fully educated or at least aware regarding Kevin's findings.  To that end, I begin here, now, giving my friends a chance to read about Kevin’s story."

Email received from member within Hep C community:

"Kevin and I did a lot of work together over the Internet and had many phone conversations.  He and I did a radio interview here in Huntsville, AL (Kevin called and we had a three-way interview) where I live and started a support group with Kevin as my inspiration. I had been e-mailing Kevin for the past few weeks and never received a reply.  I thought he was mad at me.  I went to his website to look up some info for a fellow Vet who I work with and found out the awful news. I'm sitting here at work crying writing this e-mail.   Please let me know what I can do for Kevin. I felt like I always knew him and loved him dearly. I stood up for him when those who wanted to destroy him did their dirty work."

Email received from a neighbor who knew Kevin all his life:

"Kevin was born and grew up in a house diagonally behind mine. Among his playmates were my children. I admired his intelligence and sometimes mordant wit. I am glad that in spite of his affliction, he found a way to transmute it into an activity that helped others. His too-early death was regretted by all who knew him."

Email received from member within Hep C community:

"After a year a whole year … I now learn the truth. I am in such a state of shock. I had not one clue that Kevin had all that going on in his life. I'm so very sorry to learn all of this. I pray now for his soul. I cry ‘real tears running down my face!’ for my loosing a good friend, one who I only wish had shared with me as much as I shared with him. Kevin knew so very much about my life. Due to him being on the list he got to know me very, very well. The "list" had become my safe place. I could go there and tell all, the daily stuff we let get to us -- the up and downs of life. Kevin was there with kind words when my grandparents needed me to care for them. Kevin was across the United States from me and my house, yet he was right here to help anytime I turned on my computer. He, as I, knew how there had to be something gone wrong for so many of us to be ill with HCV."

Information sent and received from Internet:

Email received from a veteran who served with Kevin:

Email received from an acquaintance:

"I was so insensitive and never sent a card after I heard about your brother's death.  That is such a terrible disease. My husband’s mom died from that disease, too.  She just took such a rapid decline. She could have NO protein, lost weight, lost clarity in her thoughts, bruised all the time and then finally died.  We had round the clock care for her, and she got so ornery she kept firing everyone that was hired.  It was a tough go of it. My heart goes out to you and your brother's family."

Email received from a mentor:

"I admire your stance on your brother's death.  As we spoke before, I think his legacy was one that you are now charged with bringing to the world (what an awesome responsibility).  As if you had nothing more to do."

Email received from Kevin’s friend and veteran:

Kevin is (sic) one dearest of the people in my life. We naturally go way back. We became men together. Our comradely, shared memories, and experiences represented the essence of true friendship. A bond that was everlasting.  This was best demonstrated when Kevin called me, after nearly 20 years of no contact.  It was as if I had just seen him yesterday. I immediately was at his disposal. Anything for my brother.  In the beginning, I worked very hard for Kevin. (as a silent partner; we both decided this was best.) We communicated by phone and snail mail daily, for secrecy needs. And on the net when it was in our best interest to do so. 

After I received dad’s diagnosis, I emailed 12/16/04:

Dad phoned me this morning, stunned, right after he learned, on the phone from the doctor's office. Dad went to GP for checkup.  GP thought it 'was liver' and perhaps prostate cancer had moved up. On that theory, the day after Thanksgiving, dad went for a liver scan and later blood work.  I kept insisting he not fool around with this.  I even stomped a few offices when they would not give him an appointment until January. I kept thinking of Kevin and liver.  No matter what, if it's liver, it can be serious, Kevin would say. 

Many people were upset with me for phoning the doctors' offices and raising hell; I don't give a damn and said so.  He was not to wait until January for an appointment, not with his health history and cancer history. Dad phoned stunned today and said they may suggest interferon (before a liver biopsy!).  I had a talk with him about 'gas' and told him he needs to find out the strain, etc., that I would (be) asking for specific questions.  I also told him that mom needs to be tested.  Stunned, he agrees.

Dad is now getting a script for more blood work, and he will ask for one for mom; then he will go and have blood drawn. I am unclear if a (mature) man with all his health issues, should even consider undergoing interferon, a drug which Kevin always said was not good (in his time).  Perhaps it has changed since Kevin's death, but I do not believe a man with dad's age and health issues is strong enough to be 'gassed'.  Dad also asked if he can drink wine. ... I said, "you know the answer, but you should sip slowly, if you do...."

Conversation with veteran, friend of Kevin, 2005: