Parents hold out hope for lost airman

The images are engraved in their memories, and captured in photos hanging on the walls and fanned out on the kitchen table.

They still bring smiles and tears to his parents because they show his transformation: a skinny, towheaded kid balancing on a skateboard. A bodybuilding trophy winner. Air Force crew chief for the F-117 Stealth fighter. Para-rescueman. Husband. Father of two young boys.

William “Bub” McDaniel II filled the lives of his parents for 36 years. Then, on Feb. 22, 2002, he was gone.

A helicopter carrying McDaniel, another airman and eight U.S. soldiers crashed into the Sulu Sea off the Philippines after taking part in a counter-terrorism training exercise. The bodies of eight were recovered.

Not McDaniel.

Since that day, Bill and Sheila McDaniel have been searching for information, hoping, praying, wondering.

“I’m 64, and I’d like some closure before I go,” said Bill McDaniel, a retired autoworker who was in the 82nd Airborne Division in the early 1960s. “I want to bring him home.”

The McDaniels are part of a growing number of American families whose loved ones disappeared while in military service.

A week before the fourth anniversary -- April 9 -- of the capture in Iraq of Army Staff Sgt. Keith Matthew “Matt” Maupin, of Batavia, his parents got the confirmation they had long dreaded: An Army general broke the news that Matt’s remains had been found.

“My heart sinks, but I know they can’t hurt him anymore,” Keith Maupin said. The Maupin family held a memorial dinner on the anniversary of the capture to honor their son and raise money for a scholarship.

Air Force Capt. Mary Olsen, spokeswoman for the Defense Prisoner of War/Missing Personnel Office, said the military was still searching for three soldiers missing in Iraq.

McDaniel’s helicopter was one of two returning to base after dropping off special forces that were involved in an exercise aimed at helping Philippine troops destroy extremist rebels. Witnesses said the Army Chinook chopper was on fire and exploded as it hit the water.

U.S. authorities said it was unlikely hostile fire was involved, although the Office of Special Investigations would not comment on the cause of the crash.

Sheila McDaniel said she collapsed when she learned of the crash.

“It was pretty much a nightmare,” she recalled, dabbing tears with a tissue.

“It’ll shake you down to your boots,” her husband added. “I don’t ever want to see anybody go through that stuff, which I know a lot of people have.”

The couple have written to members of Congress, governors and President Bush, asking if a search for their son can be resumed.

Kenny Pruitt, spokesman for the Air Force Personnel Center, said McDaniel’s helicopter crashed several miles from land shortly after refueling in the air. Para-rescuers, boats and a helicopter searched the waters until there was no reasonable hope of finding survivors or additional remains, he said.

Aircraft then surveyed the coastlines, and people in the area were asked to report any debris or information.

The Air Force later concluded there was no reasonable possibility that McDaniel survived. Pruitt said that the chances of another recovery effort producing additional evidence was highly unlikely, but that Philippine authorities remained on alert in case material or remains were recovered.

The fact that McDaniel’s body has not been found makes it difficult for his parents to rule out hope that he may be alive, especially since he was highly trained to survive in hostile environments.

Para-rescuemen are trained to recover downed air crews, provide emergency medical treatment and evade the enemy. They scuba dive, parachute, practice mountain rescues and undergo grueling physical tests and training. McDaniel once parachuted with a broken foot during training, not telling his superiors because he wanted to pass the test.

Bill McDaniel said his son could have been captured by guerrillas.

“As far as believing he could still be alive, I won’t say 100% that I’ve given up that hope,” his wife said.

Ann Rosen Spector, a Philadelphia-based clinical psychologist and expert in grief and bereavement, said people weren’t wired to deal with the uncertainty of not knowing the status of their loved ones or not recovering their remains.

“The difficulty for them and so many other people who unfortunately are in that situation is they can’t get the closure or certainty they think will help them move on,” Spector said.

The McDaniel house in western Ohio is filled with memories of the modest, churchgoing master sergeant known to his fellow airmen as the “quiet professional.” The walls of a small exercise room with a treadmill and weight machine are plastered with photos of Bub McDaniel. His mother calls it her inspiration room, saying her son would have wanted her to take care of herself.

The couple take out a newspaper ad every year on the anniversary of the crash to honor him.

“I pray a lot,” Bill McDaniel said. “There’s always that thread of hope that they might bring him home.”