Edgar Melik-StepanyanJovan Jester went into the U.S....

Edgar Melik-Stepanyan

Jovan Jester went into the U.S. Army to get his life back on track,

and to find something stable that he could hold onto.

He went into boot camp at Fort Benning, Ga., scared, not for his

life, but at the prospect of not knowing what the future held. All

the quiet teenager from Pasadena knew was how to play basketball, but

boot camp was another world.

“[Boot camp] was scary,” said Jester, now a freshman on the

Glendale Community College men’s basketball team. “There is no

family, no friends. You’re on your own. It’s not just hard

physically, but it’s hard mentally too.”

He came out of the most rigorous and rewarding 16 weeks of his

life tougher. He left boot camp as a mature leader, a person who

learned how to carry on by himself.

Jester anxiously awaited the day he could return home to his mom

and five brothers and sisters. He accomplished what he set out to

when he enrolled in the Army, and felt like it was time to go home.

*

Before returning home, however, Jester, 22, found himself

literally fighting for his life every day.

For eight months, Jester called Iraq home.

Jester and his platoon were shipped to Kuwait in March 2003,

waiting for President Bush to declare war on Iraq. Bush declared war

on Saddam Hussain’s regime on March 20, and a few days later, Jester

was in Iraq, patrolling the streets with his infantry.

“We were all pretty prepared to go,” said Jester, who was a gunner

specialist on a mortar platoon. “When we first left, we were just

going to Kuwait waiting for the war to start. We knew [the war] was

coming, but we didn’t know when.”

Jester faced the sickening realities of war from the moment he

landed in Iraq.

“I was there when the bombs were going off,” Jester said. “People

were dying right next to you. It’s war. You see all that stuff.

Everything you see on TV is not a game. It’s actually worse when

you’re there.”

For the first few days of war, life was surreal and all too real.

As much as he saw the horrors of combat, though, the suffering,

destruction and death of war could never set in. He couldn’t escape

the darkness of war, except for when he used music and writing as

outlets.

“The best thing was getting letters,” Jester said. “We take for

granted the telephones and the immediate contact. It’s different out

there. You might get a letter and it’s from a month ago. That was a

comforting thing.”

All the while, Jester’s mother, Cynthia Ann McCulloch, was left

devastated, wondering whether her son was safe, and praying for the

day he would come home.

“I couldn’t even function in 2003. I was devastated,” McCulloch

said. “The first three months, I didn’t hear from him. In April, I

finally got a letter from him.

“Everyday, every night, was very hard.”

The scariest part of war, Jester said, was getting shot at every

day, and not knowing whether a civilian was friend or enemy.

Bush declared the end of major combat on May 1 on the deck of U.S.

aircraft carrier Abraham Lincoln, but that didn’t stop the daily

threat of being killed.

“When the [major combat] was over, you still had the enemy dressed

it civilian clothes shooting at you every day,” Jester said. “You

have to be on your toes at all times.”

“But fighting for your country is not something everybody could

do.”

Jester kept putting his life on the line until Oct. 29, 2003, when

he left Iraq to return to his base at Fort Rally, Kan.

Four months later, Jester’s four-year commitment in the Army was

finished. He took home more than a scrapbook of pictures and

souvenirs, though, as the scars of battle were forever etched in his

mind.

A day after his homecoming from the Army, Jester returned to his

love: basketball.

He was dedicated to playing in college, and honed his skills for

tryouts. In March 2004, he tried out for the Vaqueros, and impressed

Vaquero Coach Brian Beauchemin with his outside shot and defense.

Jester has now become a steady contributor for the Vaqueros

(13-8), averaging 11.2 points and 4.2 rebounds per game. His work

ethic and desire to improve has been unparalleled, making him a

consistent starter.

“In my eyes, he’s the most talented player on the team,” GCC

sophomore teammate Durwin Williams said. “But he’s so content on

getting everyone else involved.”

There is a clear correlation between the Army and playing

basketball, Jester said. Like the Army, athletics has taught

individuals to meet challenges and fight through adversity.

“You can’t let those guys [next to you] down,” Jester said. “Who

you’re there with, those are all of your brothers. It’s just like

basketball. It’s a team out there and you have to play together. You

have to be able to support your guys and hope that they support you.”

Beauchemin, 60, has had a hand full of athletes spend time in the

military, but he said it’s refreshing to see a player like Jester.

“Right now, this is a self-purpose world,” Beauchemin said. “It’s

an I thing. But athletics and the Army teach you it’s a we thing.

Jovan has that concept, and hopefully it will carry on.

“Anybody who commits to the military is making a major commitment.

You have to be an individual who is willing to sacrifice many things,

most of which is your life.”

After all that he’s been through, Jester admitted he’s become a

better and stronger person.

He learned precious lessons in Iraq and in the Army that he’ll

carry on with him for the remainder of his life, whether he’s playing

on a basketball court or working his way to a degree.

“I learned don’t take anything for granted and love your country,”

Jester said. “It can be a lot worse.

“Seeing those children run around without shoes and [going] months

without taking a shower and [having] limited food and water makes you

appreciate being at home and being in America.”

* EDGAR MELIK-STEPANYAN covers sports. He can be reached at (818)

637-3226 or by e-mail at edgar.stepanyan@latimes.com.