'It's hard to believe he's not coming home'
By Maria Sacchetti and Mac Daniel, Globe Staff | December 23, 2004
SOMERVILLE, Maine -- Until he left in January, Thomas John Dostie's world revolved around his tiny hometown, at the end of a narrow road 18 miles from the nearest supermarket.
He was raised on a street where everyone knew him, in a brown clapboard house with a view of Long Pond. He water-skied and fished for bass and pickerel in the summer. Friends said his father had a snowmobile waiting for Dostie's return home.
Yesterday, the outgoing family was cloistered in its home mourning the 20-year-old who joined the Army National Guard when he was in high school and was killed this week in Iraq. People streamed into the house with flowers, food, and tears in their eyes, stopping to hug one another on the icy street.
They remembered the wiry, brown-haired boy who loved to tinker with engines large and small and who welcomed the many foster children his parents took in. Some say that helped make Dostie who he was: kind, unselfish, and outgoing, trying to make strangers feel comfortable.
''He was just a good-hearted person," said his godfather, John Houllahan, 40, who was a foster child with the family when he was growing up and remains close. ''It's hard to believe he's not coming home."
Last night, about 100 friends and townspeople held a candlelight vigil at the local volunteer fire department, where Dostie's father is chief.
Dostie, known as Tom or Tommy, lived his whole life on Frye Road, with parents Mike and Peggy, both 50, and his older brother Tim, 22, who lives at home.
Tom Dostie and his brother were raised in the camaraderie on the narrow, piney road where neighbors helped each other to build seasonal camps into sturdy year-round homes on the pond. The boys played baseball in the road, gawked at the wild turkeys and occasional moose that traipsed across their yards, and played with Dostie's dog, Ginger.
Dostie attended St. Denis Church in Whitefield with his parents, both devout Catholics.
Dostie was a wrestler in high school at Erskine Academy, a nearby private school. He struggled with his grades sometimes, but graduated in 2002.
In his junior year, he joined the National Guard to gain experience as a diesel mechanic and possibly pay for trade school.
He did his basic training the summer before his senior year and his advanced training after graduation.
He worked for his father's lawn-mowing business until he was called up last year, two days before Thanksgiving.
Houllahan said Dostie wanted to blaze his own path. ''I think he was pretty proud when he joined the military," Houllahan said. ''He was really doing his own thing."
Dostie was proud of his service in Iraq and liked what he was learning, friends said, but the camp was a long way from home. He was ready to return.
Dostie was not initially assigned to the 133d Engineer Battalion but was transferred in because there were not enough diesel mechanics to go around, said family friend and neighbor Ron Cyr, 50, whose two sons were called to active duty in the Guard the same day as Dostie.
Ronnie Cyr, 27, the younger son, was at the same camp as Dostie but was in bed when the mess hall exploded Tuesday. Cyr jumped out of bed and raced to the blast site. Soldiers coming out told him that Dostie was in there.
Cyr called his father yesterday to let Dostie's parents know that a priest had given their son last rites.
''He's pretty shook up, pretty broken up," Ron Cyr said of his son, Ronnie. ''He was close to Tommy."
Charles Manchester, 60, principal of Somerville Elementary School, first learned of Dostie's death through the faces of the audience on Tuesday night at the school's Christmas program.
As the school's 43 students sang and performed skits, Manchester said, ''I noticed there were some sad faces and a couple of people were crying. Then I found out what happened, and I thought, 'Oh, my God.' "
Over punch, coffee, and cookies afterward, students, parents, and teachers went silent.