ROBERT D SEVERSON
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HONORED ON PANEL 3W, LINE 123 OF THE WALL

ROBERT DARYL SEVERSON

WALL NAME

ROBERT D SEVERSON

PANEL / LINE

3W/123

DATE OF BIRTH

12/20/1950

CASUALTY PROVINCE

QUANG NAM

DATE OF CASUALTY

08/05/1971

HOME OF RECORD

SILVER SPRINGS

COUNTY OF RECORD

Wyoming County

STATE

NY

BRANCH OF SERVICE

ARMY

RANK

SP4

Book a time
Contact Details

REMEMBRANCES

LEFT FOR ROBERT DARYL SEVERSON
POSTED ON 7.28.2009
POSTED BY: Jimmy Ray Kyzer

For Sam Severson

It has been 38 years and I still think of you every day. We had a reunion in September of 2008, Steve and I talked about you a lot. I will always remember being your friend not just your Sgt. You were my driver for 7 months and I wish you had stayed on my track. Love, your brother, Jimmy
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POSTED ON 8.20.2005
POSTED BY: Bob Ross

Do not stand at my grave and weep

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.

Mary Frye – 1932

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POSTED ON 10.13.2000
POSTED BY: Julie (Severson) Reese

The only time I've seen my Father cry, was when my Uncle Bobby was killed in Vietnam. A tribute to Bobby Severson, from a family who misses and loves him dearly.

Robert Daryl Severson
My Uncle, Robert Severson, gave his life for our country when I was only 7 years old.
We often don't remember much from our early childhood, but I will never forget the morning my Father received "the call." I was playing in the kitchen, and he was sitting at the table drinking coffee when the phone rang. He wasn't on the phone for very long. When he hung up, he sat down at the end of the table, put his head in his hands, and cried. I thought he was laughing, and asked my Mother "why is Daddy laughing?" She told me he wasn't - that he was crying. My parents didn't elaborate until some time had passed, and I was not taken to Bobby's funeral. That was the only time in my life that I have seen my father cry, and to this day, it brings tears to my eyes. Although I don't remember my Uncle Bobby, I remember the day we lost him. Several years ago, I was in Washington on business, and made sure to visit the great Wall. I made a rubbing of my Uncle's name for my Father, and stood for a while just touching his name. Being able to visit this virtual wall online brings about the same emotions as visiting the actual wall in Washington. God bless all who fought for our country, for those who came home, and especially for those who did not.

We love and miss you all.




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POSTED ON 10.5.2000
POSTED BY: Connie Severson Petryszak, sister

My big brother Bobby

Bobby, Though it seems your life was much too short, my heart is filled with fond memories of growing up with "Boo Boo". I miss you.
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POSTED ON 9.23.2000
POSTED BY: Paula Cummings Hammerly

Affectionately known as "Sam" to family and friends. Not only my brother, but my best friend.

I remember vividly the day we received a visit from a soldier telling us that Sam had died. I had spent the night with my girlfriend the night before and while listening to music I burst into tears and cried uncontrollably, telling my friends that I knew my brother was dead. Although they tried to no avail to calm me, "it is just the music and he is on your mind." The next day a man came to the house and told us that my brother had died. The nightmare I had experienced the night before was true. I was only 13 and I wrote to my brother faithfully, 2 or 3 times a week. He would write back and tease me about my "puppy love" boyfriend or tell of things he had seen in Viet Nam. I had asked him to send me a picture of himself and in the last letter I recieved from him, he had sent a wallet size high school graduation picture. He had asked me to save it for him so that he could see what he looked like after he got out of that "hell hole", as he put it. Well the letter arrived a few days after he died. He never got to see the picture again. He never got to fall in love, get married, experience the joy of fatherhood, or experience the joy of living. His life was cut short all too soon. It was hard for a child my age and a family who loved him dearly to understand the reasoning behind this overwhelming loss. I remember very distinctly his funeral. How I looked into the casket and kept saying "this doesn't look like Sam", this can't be. There was a soldier that had been sent with the casket to guard my brother's body. I can remember feeling so sorry for this young man, what a horrible experience for him to have to go through also, but this was his duty. He had placed a tiny red rose bud near the casket. So simple, yet so beautiful. He didn't even know my brother, yet he felt our pain and sorrow. I try to remember the good times to overcome the sadness. I think of how Sam drove us on a tractor through the woods one early December day to find a Christmas tree for my grandmother's house. Or the time that he helped us build a snowman and the snowman was so huge that Sam had to stand on a ladder to place the head on the snowman. These things bring a smile to my face. Although Sam is gone he is not forgotten. He lives in all of our hearts everyday of every year and will forever. He was loving, kind, and gentle and the best friend a sister could have. He is with God now and I know that when God takes me, I will once again hold my brother as I did so many years ago.
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