Nate

Cpl. Nathan Goodiron, a North Dakota Army National Guard member, was killed on Thanksgiving.

Nate was serving his country in Afghanistan when a grenade hit his vehicle. He took the full impact of the weapon and was killed instantly. Nate was 25.

I knew Nate when he was 18, when we were both freshmen at Minot State. He let me say "enit" when I talked to him. He gave me my Indian name, "yellow spot in the snow." I protested and thought "swift as the stars" sounded better, but he was sure his name for me was the one. We would spend hours on MSN Instant Messenger laughing at each other's written accents.

Nate was everything wrapped into one--smart, funny, easy-going, sarcastic, loving, handsome, silly. He wore big diamond stud earrings and wire-rimmed glasses. One November, when we were both 20 and drunk, we spent the night kissing in my bedroom. All of our friends thought we'd be perfect together, but we never thought so. He was my friend. One of my most favorite people I have ever met.

When I first met Nate, I lived on the 4th floor of Cook Hall in Minot, North Dakota. He would come to our dorm to visit his cousin, one of my best friends, and we spent hours together.

When Nate died, he had a wife and a son.

War has taken so much from us.