Marines Killed in Crash Are Remembered as Small-Town Folk

Four Marines killed when their helicopter slammed into a mountain on a night training mission were remembered Wednesday at a crowded memorial service at the Marine Corps Air Station in Tustin.

During the solemn hourlong service, held in a tiny theater on base, those aboard the CH-46E Sea Knight that crashed last Thursday at Camp Pendleton were depicted as simple, small-town men who loved to fly.

Navy chaplain Robert B. Needham told more than 300 family members and friends that the four men were not only “good Marines, but good friends.”

Killed instantly in the Sea Knight crash were the pilot, 1st Lt. Chris. R. Toburen, 27, of Pittsburg, Kan.; the co-pilot, 1st Lt. Scott R. Hiester, 27, of Robesonia, Pa.; the crew chief, Lance Cpl. Todd B. Kershner, 20, of Lomax, Ill.; and the observer, 1st Lt. Christopher M. Tanner, 27, of Malvern, Ark.

Toburen was described as a country-Western music fan who was nicknamed “Turbo” because of his flying exploits. He was an all Big Eight Conference football player at Kansas, said Capt. Paul P. Hobbes, but turned down an opportunity to play professional football in order to join the Marines.

“He wanted to fly--that was his love,” Hobbes said.

When assigned to the Tustin air base, Toburen drove West with his wife Judy, in a beat-up pickup that had been in his family for two generations, Hobbes said. Both his grandfather and father had driven the truck, and the gear shift was so old it had to be attached to the steering column with a nail. But rather than buy a new, more dependable car for the trip to California, Toburen drove the truck.

“It was a symbol of family to him,” Hobbes said as he stood on the theater stage, flanked by several large floral arrangements.

Stretched behind him on the stage curtain was a huge U.S. flag. The overflow crowd spilled out the theater doors, and dozens of people either stood or sat outside on folding chairs under a canopy. On the steamy, still day, many people fanned themselves with programs or went coatless as they listened to the eulogies on a portable public address system.

They heard Capt. Walter L. Niblock tell of Tanner’s dream of being a career Marine.

“He did not join simply to put in his hours and then fly for the airlines,” Niblock said. “He joined to be a Marine officer.”

Tanner, a 1985 graduate of the University of Arkansas, had only recently been assigned to Tustin. Niblock said that each time Tanner flew, he took with him a small wooden cross.

“As a Christian, he always had that cross,” Niblock said. “It was a little something extra, just in case . . .”

Hiester shared Tanner’s religious faith. He made frequent entries in a “spiritual journal,” 1st Lt. Kevin L. Smith said. Hiester also organized weekly Bible readings for base officers. When away from his wife, Cathy, on missions, Hiester often listened to Christian or classical music and wrote letters home.

Neither the Heisters nor the Toburens had children.

Following the service, most family members left were escorted to another part of the base. But Hiester’s wife stayed behind, greeting friends with a warm smile and an occasional hug. She chose not to wear black, opting instead for a bright blue sweater vest and matching skirt.

“She wanted this to be an up day, not a sad day,” a friend said outside the theater. “She did not want to wear black or look like the typical widow . . . . She decided life must go on.”

For Kershner, the closest thing to family in Orange County was his best friend, Cpl. Toby R. Riley, and Riley’s wife, Jo.

Kershner had called Jo his “big sister,” and Riley said that when he was away on missions, Kershner would watch out for his wife. “He was the only guy I would trust,” Riley said.

Kershner, a high school wrestling champion in Illinois, joined the service and was assigned to the Tustin base two years ago.

“I never let people get close to me,” Riley said. “But Todd was different . . . . He was a warm, sensitive, caring individual. He was my best friend. He was a lot of people’s best friend.”