My brother Austin requested me to go to Syria with him. 4 months later, he was taken.


To this present day I am unsure why he requested me. We had been on some adventures collectively, to Glacier Nationwide Park, and within the lovely Pacific Northwest the place I’ve made my house, however nothing approaching these stakes. Possibly he believed I used to be up for it, that I had the identical adventurous spirit burning in him, and I might leap on the likelihood, contemporary out of faculty with imprecise plans for the longer term, to assist him change the world.

I turned him down. I could not think about myself in these circumstances, untrained, missing the conflict zone expertise he had as a Marine Corps veteran with three excursions of obligation behind him. I inspired him to comply with his coronary heart and to bear witness to the escalating battle in Syria. I believed in his imaginative and prescient, admired his grit and was behind him fully. He left in Could.

On August 14, 2012, at a checkpoint outdoors Damascus, he disappeared.

That was two thousand, 9 hundred and sixty days in the past as of this writing. I’ve not heard from my brother since. Nobody has claimed accountability for his detention. Each single a kind of days, my household wakes up hoping, praying, that this would be the final day of his captivity.

I consider that decision once I examine Austin now, and the way simply my title may have been subsequent to his. I consider what he has endured in captivity and of what he has missed — all of the birthdays, weddings, and births, Thanksgivings, and Christmases, that my household and I’ve celebrated with out him. In darkish moments, I’m wondering if possibly, possibly, I may have been the distinction. Possibly I might have stated, “We should not get into this automotive.” Possibly the hairs on the again of my neck would’ve stood up on the supply, and we might have gone one other approach. Possibly he would not have stayed so lengthy had he felt accountable for preserving me, his scrawny, inexperienced, intellectualized little brother, protected.

I do not dwell overly on these ideas, however they’ve persevered beneath the sluggish realization that this may not be resolved rapidly, that he would not be house in days, or weeks. Beneath the pleasure of each award he has obtained and each column calling for his return, they persist. The considered what he has endured in eight years is made contemporary in each; I can not keep away from it. I may have been there.

No president in our historical past has been extra personally dedicated than President Trump to bringing house Americans held overseas. Our President has made it clear, again and again: the return of People is a deeply private precedence for him. It was from him, this March, that America first heard Austin’s title stated aloud by a President. My coronary heart leapt that day. My household appreciates the highly effective effort this administration is exerting to deliver him house. We have now felt the progress, centimeter by excruciating centimeter.

Now, as we method a ninth vacation season with an empty seat at our household’s Thanksgiving, a ninth Christmas spent questioning if Austin can see the celebs, my brothers and sisters and I implore you from the depths of our hearts: Please assist.

We beg you to succeed in out to your representatives in Congress. Inform them the story of the brother we love. Inform them it’s a precedence to see Austin’s most secure and soonest return. Inform them to make use of their energy to induce the president to revive Austin to our Thanksgiving desk. Each second he stays in captivity cuts a deeper wound within the hearts of my household, and we will wait not. Assist us make this summer season the final he spends alone, and provides 2020 a spark of brightness we so desperately want.
Be a part of the marketing campaign. Ask about Austin Tice. Deliver him house.


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