[The following was most of the basis for what was later published in The Guardian US Opinion article, “Aaron Bushnell was my friend. May he never be forgotten”]

On Monday, February 26th, at 3:43pm, I got a text from a friend. “Have you seen the news out of DC today about the Air Force member? Let me know if you need to talk tonight or later this week.” I replied, explaining that I had seen the headline, and that it saddened me. She texted, “Since he was based in San Antonio I wondered if he was someone you crossed paths with or had friends in common with.” I said, “Hmm. I’ll have to find his name.”

The next moment, there was a text. “The name I’ve seen is Aaron Bushnell.”

I couldn’t believe what I was reading. I walked out the front door, and looked up at the sky. I called my friend. I said, “That’s my friend. I went to basic with him. I saw him last month.” And I wept. I found my last text conversation with him; he had sent me a YouTube video he thought was funny and we had chatted back and forth about it. And that was early February, and I never heard from him again.

It’s been over 24 hours, and of course I am still in shock. I will probably come back to this post and edit it again and again to be sure it communicates what I feel should be communicated. But here is what I know in this moment.

1. Aaron did not die in vain. He has already inspired so many to stand up for truth and justice. It breaks my heart that his life ended this way. I could never do what he did, and I don’t believe anyone should do what he did. I repeat, I do not believe anyone should do this, and I do not want anyone to do this themselves for any reason. But we’ll never get Aaron back. All we can do is hear the message he died to shine a spotlight on.
2. Aaron is by no means the only United States military member who has felt complicit in the military’s violence, powerless to change anything, and stuck waiting until the end of a four or six-year contract. There are thousands of military members similarly distraught, similarly having thoughts of taking extreme actions to escape something that feels inescapable. I got out of the Air Force as a conscientious objector in 2023, after going through the exhaustive process for over a year. I applied to be separated because I came to realize I did not support what the military was doing, I didn’t support its goals, and I didn’t want to earn my livelihood from something I believed was wrong. If you are going through something similar, please reach out for help. I know you can call 988 in the United States to talk to someone if you are having thoughts of suicide, and I would encourage you to contact me or reach out to the Center on Conscience and War if you are a military member who would like more information on being separated as a conscientious objector.

It’s hard for me to think about anything else right now. I appreciate all those who have messaged me with their support. I appreciate your prayer, your holding me in the light, your thoughts. Please pray for Aaron’s family, as well. I will likely come back to this with changes, but I felt I needed to get this out. Thank you for reading. Rest in peace, Aaron.

Update: 2/28/24 – On July 1st, 2022, Aaron sent me a few quotes from Octavia Butler’s Parable of the Sower. He told me I should read it, as the main character was a child of a Baptist preacher, and he knew I am as well. Below are the excerpts he sent.