...About Booger

Actually, the name is Keith. Keith Mitchell. Actually, Robert Keith Mitchell, but everyone knows him as "Booger." In fact, many people had no idea who was being talked about if you called him Keith.

We all have people who make a significant impact on our lives: our parents, our teachers, our childhood friends, and many others.  Booger made a very large dent in my existence.

When I joined the Army National Guard - June 23rd, 1975 - I joined the 151st Army Band; a unit in the Alabama National Guard. We were a premiere unit. We played military and state government ceremonies, recruiting concerts at malls and schools, etc. We didn't do things like spend time in the field, or go to jungle training-type schools. We played music - military and otherwise - and we were very good. We once spent our Summer Camp at West Point Military Academy covering the performance duties of the United States Military Academy Band (TUSMAB). It was very cool. Along with playing a concert in Rockefeller Plaza in New York City, we played an open-air concert on the grounds of West Point for a few thousand people! But... I digress!

I left the band after 17 years, 1 Month, 16 days and became a member of the 3/117th Field Artillery - an honest-to-God, real live Army-type unit. To say that I knew nothing about real Army stuff is an understatement. Words like "commo" and "popping smoke" made my head spin. Booger taught me everything. Booger took the time to help me avoid looking like some green, unknowing Private. Remember, I had been in for 17 years, how could I not know these things?

Going to Summer Camp meant spending 12 long, hot days in the field. Heavy-duty training. Showers were, generally, every few days at best. Having the wrong equipment, or not having the right equipment meant being uncomfortable, unprepared, or really, really inconvenienced.

Booger taught me everything. "Pick up some of this. Bring some of that. You don't need to bring that. Don't show up without this." He made sure that I looked like I belonged. Treated me like I had been in the unit for years, instead of 6 weeks. Helped me understand everything about the Army, Field Artillery, and how to survive the real military. He showed me how to do all the jobs that would help me in my military career -- everything from driving an 11 ton track to putting a small, woven kitchen rug next to your cot in the woods to avoid putting your feet on cold, wet ground in the morning.
He taught me many other lessons. Small lessons. Large lessons. What was smart. What to avoid. I would have to say that Booger, moreso than anyone else in my military career, helped guide me to the point that my retirement from the Army National Guard was after 30+ years. Only Lester, another great friend, helped me in such a huge way.

It has been a couple of years now since Booger passed away. He had cancer. Booger smoked WAY too much, but oddly, did not die from lung cancer. Some small skin cancer, doubtless from so many years in the field, went undiagnosed and metastasized to his brain. I did not even know he was dying. I saw Booger about a month before he died. He stopped by the office where I had gone to work several years earlier for the National Guard Bureau - again, because of his guidance and help. He did not tell me. He did not complain. We chatted. We laughed. We hugged. He left. And soon, he died.

I did not go to his funeral. I didn't know he had died until minutes after his funeral was over. It is just as well. I have the ability to remember Booger as I saw him for many years, and as I saw him last. He was my teacher, my supervisor, and my friend. And I thank God for the time I knew him. I was a far better Soldier and a much richer person because of him. And I miss him.

Rest in Peace, Booger.
Rest in Peace, Keith.
Rest in Peace, Master Sergeant Robert Keith Mitchell.

-