Today’s memorial comes from Dean Ditto who served Active Duty in the U.S. Marine Corps from 1988 to 1992, finishing up as a Corporal after deployments to Desert Shield and Desert Storm.
I lost my good friend and brother-in-arms, Cpl Khaldun Everage. Everyone called him Savage, and it fit. He was 6’2″, built like a linebacker, and Chicago tough. Savage and I couldn’t have come from more different places as he was from inner-city Chicago, and I was a suburban kid from Michigan. But we both joined the Marines eager to become the best versions of ourselves. That common goal bonded us quickly and deeply.
Our first deployment together was to the Philippines. Our patrols were mostly quiet, long nights filled with conversation and laughs. But when things got serious with attempted infiltrations or suspicious activity, we had each other’s backs without hesitation.
We moved as one, acting on pure instinct and trust built through our relentless training and brotherhood. It wasn’t until those moments that I truly understood the depth of trust you could have with another human being. Savage was more than just a fellow Marine, he was and is my family.
After our service ended, Savage headed home to Chicago to start a family and build a life dedicated to helping others. He became a respected leader, mentoring troubled youth and serving as an example of hope and strength in his community. Every time someone asked him how he was doing, Savage would flash that unforgettable smile and say loudly and sincerely, “LIVING THE DREAM!” followed by a big hug and his favorite goodbye, “See you at the top!” He was the guy everyone turned to for motivation.
We stayed connected over the years, through letters, phone calls, emails, and eventually social media. Whenever I visited Chicago or he came to Detroit, we always tried to get together, though our lives sometimes got in the way. Savage had his picture taken with presidents and governors. He was a rock who seemed unbreakable.
That’s why it hit me so hard when I got the call that Savage had taken his own life. I was stunned and heartbroken. The guy we all admired, who taught us all so much about positivity and resilience, had fought a hidden battle none of us knew about. It showed me that even the strongest among us can face struggles that go unseen, and reminded me just how crucial it is to stay connected and supportive of one another.
I think back to a night in Okinawa before we shipped out to the Gulf. Savage, myself, and a few Marines had spent the evening drinking, laughing, and bonding over stories and fears. In a moment of questionable judgment, we decided it would be a great idea to wake up our Platoon Commander and offer him a beer.
As expected, he wasn’t thrilled. Just as he was about to tear into us, Savage, without missing a beat, calmly popped the tops off two beer bottles and offered them to our officers with a completely straight face. It diffused the tension instantly and somehow kept us out of trouble. That was Savage, always finding the positive spin even in the worst situations.
If I had one more chance to talk to him, I’d simply tell him, “See you at the top, brother!” Savage taught me a lesson I’ll carry for life: positivity is always the best approach, no matter the circumstances. To honor him, whenever someone asks me how I’m doing, I proudly and sincerely reply, “LIVING THE DREAM!”
Rest easy, brother. You’re never forgotten.
