THE WALL OF FACES

SGT Edward F. Zackowski, USA

EDWARD F. ZACKOWSKI



Edward graduated from Father Judge in 1965. While a student at Father Judge, Edward participated in the intramural program. He was a graduate of St. Leo's Grade School in Tacony. Although he was shy by nature, he did have a close relationship with several friends. One of these friends, John Donohue (a 1965 Judge Graduate), recalls countless summers that he and Ed played baseball at the neighborhood field. Ed was a pitcher for the Tacony PAL team. It was through John that Ed met his future Fiancee Charlene at a local dance.

After graduation from Father Judge, Ed worked at Stone Container Corporation before being drafted into the Army in October, 1966. In Vietnam, he was a member of Company D of the 2nd Battalion, 14th Infantry, 25th Infantry Division. He wrote home frequently, sometimes relating witty stories to his brother. His letters, however, showed a much more serious tone. In one of his letters he wrote this original poem:



I came to this place because there was a job to be done

It didn't take long to find out it wouldn't be fun

I'm here for a year and a year I'll stay

I'll fight like hell and pray each day

That my being here will keep my brother away.



During his tour of duty in Vietnam Edward received his first of four Purple Hearts for injuries received when he was shot in the leg. He was also awarded the Silver Star and the Bronze Star for extreme valor in combat. Edward Zackowski died on November 28, 1967, while on a search and destroy mission near the Cambodian border.

Edward's prayer for his brother was heard. Ernie, his brother, never had to serve in Vietnam.



Thanks to Mike Dufner for the above photo and info.

Zeek arrived in the outfit shortly before I did and took me under his wing.
We became good friends and shared many laughs. I think of him often. Named my eldest after him, and tell his story often.
All the Best to his family.

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