Alright now, pull up a chair. Got somethin’ heavy on my heart today, somethin’ important to talk about. This Memorial Day, 2025, feels a little different, maybe because it marks a special, yet sorrowful, anniversary. Just the other day, I was tellin’ you folks about Noah’s Ark Encounter up in Kentucky and how that grand old boat, built on faith against all common sense by the biblical Noah, made you sit up and think. Hebrews 11:7 says ol’ Noah, “when warned about things not yet seen, in holy fear built an ark to save his family. By his faith he condemned the world and became heir of the righteousness that is in keeping with faith.”
Well, today, on this Memorial Day, twenty years on from a sacrifice that changed everything for a lot of folks I know, my thoughts turn to another Noah. Not the man who built the Ark, but a young man from right here in our little corner of Georgia, a young man named Noah Harris.
I knew Noah, see. He went all through school with my son, Ryan, back in Ellijay. His mama, Lucy, taught English at the high school, the kind of teacher who made you think about things deeper than just what was on the page. And his daddy, Rick… well, you’ll hear about Rick. Noah was just one of those kids who seemed born with a little extra sparkle, a natural-born good guy who set a mighty fine example for his friends, peers, and pretty much anyone lucky enough to cross his path.
If you want to understand the kind of young man Noah Harris was, and the outpouring of love that followed him, you need to spend some time on the website his folks put together: idwic.com. It’s a labor of love called “Simply American,” and Lord knows, that describes Noah Harris to a T.
That website, those early chapters… they paint a picture of a life packed so full, it’s hard to believe he only got 24 years here on God’s green earth. They tell you about a boy raised in the woods of North Georgia, born right there in his family’s hand-built, ten-sided cabin by a midwife and his dad. Rick, bless his heart, was what you’d call a “Mr. Mom” back before folks even knew what that meant, teaching Noah about nature and how to skin a knee and get back up again. Lucy filled his head with words and poetry and the idea that freedom isn’t free and that you gotta “do what you can.” He grew up roaming those mountains with a rock in one hand and a stick in the other, a gentle warrior from the get-go.
Noah wasn’t just a mountain boy, though.
He was sharp as a tack, a straight-A student, a Presidential Scholar. And an athlete? Good heavens, yes. State champ wrestler, football captain, track star, UGA cheerleader captain (“Quadzilla,” they called him, lifted three girls at once!). He was Mr. GHS, an honor thespian, won science fairs, even went to Russia as a youth ambassador. Packed more into his years than most folks do in 70 or 80, his friends say, and I don’t doubt it for a second.
He was a giver, too.
Volunteered with Big Brothers, coached soccer, visited hospitals and nursing homes. But after 9/11, somethin’ shifted inside him. He felt a higher calling, a duty to serve his country in the War on Terror. He wrangled his way into ROTC at UGA, becoming an infantry officer. His folks, Rick and Lucy, the ones who birthed him and raised him in those quiet woods, supported his decision, even though it must have broken their hearts a little knowin’ where he was headed. That’s faith, folks. That’s love.
He went to Iraq, leading his platoon, the “Wolfpack,” in Ba’quba.
You hear stories about Noah in Iraq, and they sound like somethin’ out of a parable. Carried “bullets for the bad guys” in one pocket and “Beanie Babies for the children of Iraq” in the other. Believed in spreading freedom, yes, but also in showing compassion, treating people with respect, helping rebuild. He wasn’t just a warrior; he was an ambassador of the best of America.
His motto, the one that sticks with you, was “IDWIC”
“I Do What I Can.” He said it humbly when folks complimented him, but it was more than just a saying. It was his philosophy for life, for leadership, for making a difference. He was training his men in that philosophy right up until his final mission.
And that final mission… June 18, 2005.
Charging the enemy, like the infantry soldier he was meant to be. He and two others made the ultimate sacrifice, giving everything they had on that lonely wall of security, putting themselves between us and the mess out there in the world. Killed in action. An IED took our boy. The first UGA ROTC cadet ever killed in action, they say.
Reading his parents’ words on that website
About the moment they got the news… it tears your heart right out. Rick, alone at the house, the colonel delivering the words no parent should ever hear, the universe stopping. Lucy, driving home from class, surrounded by friends, the news shattering the laughter. Ashley, his fiancée, the love of his life, hearing the “worst possible thing.” The pure, gut-wrenching pain of it all. But even in that deepest sorrow, Rick and Lucy, they made a pact. Not to succumb to remorse, but to celebrate the life of a hero. That’s strength I can barely fathom.
And the community, our Ellijay…
Good heavens, yes. Jim Fox’s story on the website about the 50 miles of yellow ribbons… it’s a testament to the love folks had for Noah, for Rick and Lucy, for what he stood for. A spontaneous outpouring of patriotism and grief and pride that started with a simple idea and became a “tipping point,” connecting everyone, strangers and friends alike, all showing their support. Naming the high school center after him, the weight room at UGA, the scholarships from the Noah Harris Fund, helping local families… his legacy isn’t just carved on plaques; it’s etched in the heart of this community and living on through the lives he continues to touch.
Rick and Lucy
They talk about Noah’s birth, his rambunctious childhood, the way he learned to love nature with his dad, the way he debated words and ideas with his mom. They share stories that make you laugh (like Noah naked at his second birthday party, or trying to pee on the trees at Lenox Square Mall, or Rick fixing that old Honda motorcycle in the living room, or Noah earning his “Tar River money” by identifying a river) and stories that make you weep. They remind you that he wasn’t perfect, but he lived with purpose, with an “attitude of gratitude,” always striving to be better. He “kept his energy focused,” even when he was having fun. He loved hard, he worked hard, and he served hard.
He believed in America
Not blindly, but with a clear vision of what it could be, a beacon of freedom and opportunity. He saw the dignity in the Iraqi people and worked to empower them. He lived the Warrior Ethos – mission first, never accept defeat, never quit, never leave a fallen comrade. And his men loved him for it.
On this Memorial Day, 20 years after Noah gave his all, his story, shared so beautifully and honestly by his parents and friends on idwic.com, serves as a powerful reminder of the cost of freedom. It’s a reminder that heroes don’t just exist in history books; sometimes they grow up in the woods right next door, playing ball, going to school, choosing to serve.
To Rick and Lucy, to Ashley, to Kym, and to all of Noah’s family and friends…
My heart aches with you, even now. Losing Noah is an emptiness that will always remain. But know this, your strength, your faith, and your determination to celebrate his life and keep his spirit alive are an inspiration to us all. Thank you for sharing your Noah with the world.
And to all the Gold Star Families across this great nation, the ones who have paid that ultimate price… words feel mighty thin on a day like this. We owe you a debt we can never repay. Your sacrifice is etched into the very fabric of our freedom. Know that we, the grateful citizens of this land, remember. We see your pain, we honor your loved ones, and we hold you in our hearts.
Noah Harris, the Ellijay boy, lived a life that mattered.
His “I Do What I Can” philosophy, his love for his family and country, his belief in a higher purpose… they continue to ripple out like a pebble dropped in a pond. May his story, and the stories of all our fallen heroes, spur us on to live lives worthy of their sacrifice. To do what we can, right where we are.
Simply American. Simply Remembered.
God Bless America, and God Bless our troops and their families, always.
Dean Burnette, Louisiana Born, Georgia Grown, Grateful USA Citizen.
Citations:
#IDWIC #Ellijay #NoahHarris #GodBlessAmerica
Thank you, Dean. What a beautifully written story to honor a great young man! To Rick and Lucy, To Kym and Ashley, I can not comprehend your loss. Please know that your loss is shared with millions of grateful Americans today who never forget that Freedom is not free.
Thank God for the brave, who protect many.
God bless you today and every day!