The son who came home for the Fourth of July
By Andrew Buncombe

Independent UK
Saturday 03 July 2004

Last week Nadia McCaffrey defied President Bush by allowing the media to view the coffin of her
son, Patrick, killed in action in Iraq. Andrew Buncombe was invited to attend his funeral in Tracy,

The photographs of Patrick McCaffrey laid out on the table at the front of the reception hall were the record of a life cut short. There were pictures of
Patrick as a young boy, a head of curly brown hair, posing in his judo outfit. There was one of him dressed to play American football and another, taken
a few years later, of Patrick wearing a tuxedo and probably heading out to the high school prom. There was one of him with his family - a wife, a little girl
and a son so proud that his father was a member of the California National Guard that he had asked for his own set of dog-tags.
Finally there was a photograph of Patrick with his unit in Iraq. It had been taken shortly before the ambush in which Patrick was killed. In the picture he
is laughing with his friends. He was 34-years-old and - according to the Iraq Coalition Casualty Count website - the 848th American soldier to die in Iraq.

"He was the life-saver in the unit," said Joyce Kilzono, one of several hundred friends attending the memorial reception, as she pointed at the
photograph. "He looked after the others. That man there is my brother-in-law. He had been dehydrated and Patrick had been looking after him. He was
caring for people right up until the end." Mrs Kilzono lowered her voice, turned and added: "There are a lot of us Americans who do not agree with what
is going on over there."
There was nothing especially unusual about the death of Patrick McCaffrey - nothing about the attack on 22 June that killed him and a colleague to
make the incident stand out from the hundreds of others in which young men from across the US have died amid the chaos in Iraq over the past 16
Except, that is, that Patrick's mother, Nadia, is adamant her son's death shall not have been worthless. Her insistence that people be made aware of the
situation in Iraq and the continuing stream of Iraqi and American casualties, this week placed her on a fast-track collision path with an administration
that would rather the public only saw certain images from President George Bush's so-called war on terror.
When her son's body was flown to Sacramento international airport, she allowed - but did not invite, she insists - the media to attend. "I'm just hurt that
my son's life is gone and they should stop what they're doing," she told the reporters, banned by Mr Bush from covering the return of military coffins to
US Air Force bases. She said she planned to set up a group for the mothers of dead soldiers opposed to the war. And in recent days, when it came
time to remember Patrick publicly, Mrs McCaffrey again wanted to share with people stories about her wonderful son.
She wanted to tell everyone about his infectious smile and his humour, his kindness to strangers and his devotion to his family. "My goal is to pass on
Patrick's message, why and how he died," she told her hometown paper, the Tracy Press. "Try to talk about this and stop it. Enough war."

"He was overwhelmed by the hatred there for Americans and Europeans," she told another reporter. "He was so ashamed by the prisoner abuse
scandal. He even sent me an e-mail to tell me that not all the soldiers were like that. He said we had no business in Iraq and should not be there. Even
so, he wanted to be a good soldier."
On a bright, sunny Thursday morning, at a memorial chapel in the small, neat town of Tracy, about 60 miles east of San Francisco, around 350 of
Patrick's friends and relatives, many of them in uniform, came together to pay their respects and to remember him. Mrs McCaffrey invited The
Independent to attend.
It was a day for two different narratives. For the military it was a chance to remember Patrick with full military honours, for a three-gun salute, to
posthumously award him the Bronze Star and the Purple Heart. It was an opportunity to sour the air with the regimental bagpipes and to insist -
whatever his mother may have felt - that his death had not been in vain.
"What Patrick was doing was good and right and noble," said Paul Harris, chaplain of the 579th Engineer Battalion, of which Patrick was a member.
"The good deeds he was doing will far outlive him. There are thousands, no, millions, of Iraqis who are grateful for his sacrifice."
Major General Thomas Eres, a tall, grey-haired adjutant general of California, had been sent by the Governor, Arnold Schwarzenegger, to tell Patrick's
family that his death in Iraq had come while fighting for a noble cause. There was no shame in that, he said, turning to Patrick's young widow, Silvia.
"You can be very proud of him."
Governor Schwarzenegger sent his condolences, said the general, apparently unaware of the irony that the man who had spent most of his Hollywood
career posing as an action hero was now the commander of America's largest National Guard unit and was sending messages of sympathy to those
who had died in action rather than just on screen. There were hymns and prayers and brief eulogies from Patrick's friends from Alpha Company, who
were resplendent in their green ceremonial uniforms, all with closely-cropped hair, many fighting back tears. Sergeant Michael Sundita, a thick-set
young man, could barely get his words out. "Patrick had it all," he said.
It was announced that by order of the President of the United States, Patrick was to be posthumously promoted to sergeant and he would receive the
Bronze Star for valour and the Purple Heart for wounds received in battle. It was the only reference all day to Mr Bush. He has not attended the funerals
of any of the 860 or more US soldiers who have now been killed in Iraq.

And then Patrick was remembered with a three-gun salute, the honour guard standing in the doorway of the chapel. Everyone was asked to stand and
either salute or else place their handon their hearts.
Whose heart did not jump as the first volley was fired - echoing around the chapel? As the honour guard reloaded, one could hear the empty cartridge
shells fall to the floor and roll. A baby started screaming. People wept as the second and third shots were fired. A prayer was read and then everyone
filed outside into the sunshine, hugging Patrick's mother and father, Robert - the couple divorced but very much together on this morning.
Later that day, 20 miles west across the sun-scorched Californian hills, Patrick was again remembered by his friends. This occasion was less formal, a
reception where people sat at tables, eating salad and corn and cold meat from plastic plates while young children not old enough to understand ran
playfully around the tables - young, uninhibited life among the grief. At one point Patrick's nine-year-old son walked past, the silver dog-tag bouncing
on his chest.
At this reception, where photographs of Patrick were laid on a table at the front of the reception hall next to his newly awarded medals, there was no
talk of noble causes and of grateful Iraqis, of widows who should content themselves with the stiffly-folded Stars and Stripes flag that had covered the
coffin. Indeed, not only was there no sign of Mr Bush but neither of the two-star general, who could have come straight from the stanzas of a Wilfred
Owen poem.

Instead it was up to Patrick's friends, his work colleagues, the mothers of his friends, to remember the young man who had lost his life thousands of
miles from his home. Patrick had never planned on going to Iraq, they said. He had been eager to join the National Guard in the aftermath of the
attacks of 11 September 2001 and was happy enough to do the training. He had hoped the extra money would pay for his children, Patrick Jnr and
Janessa, to have the university education on which he had missed out.
But he had also thought about the Iraqi children, said his friends. When he left for Iraq in March he took with him a specially-made T-shirt with a picture
of his children on the front and of Iraqi children on the back. "I'm going for my children and for these children as well," it read.
Marlene Cather, the manager of the car body repair shop in Palo Alto where Patrick had worked for 10 years, picked up a microphone placed at the
front of the hall and remembered a young man with the best people skills in the shop. "That is why we put him at the 'meet and greet desk' near the
door," she said.
Betty Bussell, mother of Patrick's school friend Jim, remembered him and the other boys coming round to her house to watch sport on television. "He
used to call me Mrs Bus," she laughed. She said she always thought of Patrick when she remembered that name. A woman called Grace who walked
with a stick said she was certain that Patrick was present. "We have lost a young man but we have a special angel up in heaven," she said.
The afternoon wore on, plates were cleared from tables, and then Patrick's mother got up from her seat and walked to the front of the hall.
Nadia McCaffrey knew a thing or two about death. By her own reckoning she had almost died on three occasions - the first when she was a
seven-year-old child in her native France and was bitten by a poisonous snake and the most recent just five years ago, when she had a fever that
raged and raged and would not pass. Her near-death experiences, as she called them, helped her in her non-profit work with local hospices and people
suffering from terminal illnesses. But nothing had readied Mrs McCaffrey for the death of her only child in Iraq.
She picked up the microphone, paused, looked around at the people in front of her, holding their gaze. "I'm looking at you all now and I cannot believe
it. It's going to take a very long time," she said. "The last time I saw Patrick was on Father's Day. They had set up a web camera on the internet and I
could see Patrick. I had to move away because I did not want him to see me crying. I knew at that instant that I would not see Patrick again." She
continued: "Patrick was glowing that day. Watching him was overwhelming. The joy that was radiating from him - his face had an aura." Mrs McCaffrey
said she had been given another picture of Patrick taken just an hour before he was ambushed in the city of Balad, 85 miles north of Baghdad. He died
when his body armour failed to stop the volley of bullets that struck him in the chest.
In that picture, his mother said, Patrick is standing in his humvee, holding in his hand a bunch of wild flowers that had been given to him by some Iraqi
"He had the same smile on this face. That was one of the very last pictures. It was taken a very short time before his death," she said. "Patrick was at
peace. Patrick was at total peace."
The memorial to Patrick McCaffrey was nearly complete. To conclude the day - prior to his burial on Friday morning near his wife's family's home in
Oceanside - friends and family were asked to step outside for a toast.
For the adults there were shots of whiskey, Patrick's favourite drink and a reference to his Irish heritage, while the children were given
yellow balloons, filled with helium. The toast was made, the whiskey hit the backs of their throats and the children let go of the balloons.
They quickly rose into the sky, dozens of soaring bright flashes of colour caught by the breeze.
Within moments they were gone.... Andrew Buncombe for the Independent, UK
Patrick McCaffrey was born May 26 1970, at Stanford Hospital, in Palo Alto Ca, at 1:20 pm.
was shot 8 times and killed at 11:45am June 22 2004, Balad, Iraq

Patrick was ambushed and shot multiple times with automatic weapons, the shooting came from three directions,
bullets penetrated through the sides of his vest.
Patrick died from massive internal bleeding on June 22 2004, near Balad, Iraq
Patrick, wounded, made a shield of his body to protect another soldier that died next to him.
Patrick was a leader, a Combat life Saver, an advocate for his comrads, a trainer to the new Iraqi troops.
On June 22, he saved two lives of soldiers who had collapsed from heat exhaustion, it was 125 degrees then. Patrick
was killed with the unit's radio on his back, that weighed 75 pounds no one else could carry this extra weight, so he
volunteered to do it.
Patrick had always helped people,
he was devoted to his family, his country, his friends, and the children.

Journey to Peace, Journey to Forgiveness

One Mother's Quest to Heal the Suffering of War

"To learn that not only you suffer, but the other
person also
suffers, the other group of people also suffers when
you touch the
suffering in other people you want to help, and
when you want to
help, compassion is born in you, you don't suffer
anymore, and you are
motivated by the desire to do something, to be
something for other
people and that is Peace."

Thich Nhat Hanh
Internationally known Zen Buddhist monk
Spiritual Leader, Author, Poet, Philosopher
Nominated by Martin Luther King, Jr
for the Nobel Peace Prize
for his tireless work to end the Vietnam War

Two senators press Pentagon for answers
on murdered California soldiers

Associated Press

SAN FRANCISCO - Two senators, including the top Democrat on the Armed Services Committee, said Thursday they would press the Pentagon for
answers in the case of two California National Guard members murdered by Iraqi officers they were training.
Sens. Barbara Boxer, D-Calif., and Carl Levin, D-Mich., said they would seek answers that the two soldiers' families have not been able to obtain even
in personal briefings they've received from an Army general.

Army Spc. Patrick R. McCaffrey, 34, and 2nd Lt. Andre D. Tyson, 33, of Riverside, died in an ambush two years ago Thursday. It was not until this week
that the military acknowledged that the two were killed by members of the Iraqi Civil Defense Corps they were training and patrolling with.

But McCaffrey's mother, Nadia McCaffrey, said the briefing from Brig. Gen. Oscar Hilman and three other officers left many questions unanswered.
Boxer and Levin said they would ask the Defense Department to explain why "nothing was done" after Patrick McCaffrey told his superiors that Iraqi
forces previously had fired on the American unit.

"Are there other incidents where American troops are being shot at by the Iraqi forces they are training?" Boxer asked.
The California senator also said she wanted to know why the Army waited nine months after it had determined Tyson and McCaffrey were murdered to
tell their families.
"Was there a cover-up of this incident?" she asked.

An Army officer who served in the same unit as Tyson and McCaffrey in Iraq said Thursday that military commanders knew militiamen had infiltrated the
Iraqi Civil Defense Corps unit they were training long before the Iraqis killed the two Americans.
"We were told that before we went over there," the officer told The Associated Press, speaking on condition of anonymity because a criminal
investigation remains open in the case.
"They told us 'Half these guys were insurgents.' We knew it."
Within hours after the attack that killed McCaffrey and Tyson, the American officers suspected two specific ICDC men were the gunmen. As soon as the
Army unit and the allied ICDC unit regrouped and conducted a headcount, it was obvious that two ICDC members were missing, and they immediately
became the leading suspects, the officer said.

The Army had the home addresses of the two suspects, gleaned when they applied for ICDC membership, and placed the houses under surveillance
for weeks, hoping they would turn up, the officer said. After about two days, U.S. Special Forces took over from the regular Army and National Guard
troops, and began using more aggressive measures to track down the gunmen, he said.
Today, one Iraqi is in custody, one believed to be dead. What happened in between is unknown. The U.S. military has not clarified the circumstances of
the arrest nor how one of the Iraqis involved apparently died.

It's also not clear why Tyson, who was the platoon leader, allowed the infiltrators to lag behind the Americans on the patrol for weapons caches outside
Camp Anaconda. Tyson's official guidance from his superiors was to "integrate" the Iraqi and American units so they operated as one, the officer said.

Levin and Boxer entered their agreement to press the Pentagon for answers into the Senate record. It is not clear how much influence their effort will
Democratic senators do not have the broad subpoena authority that Republicans, who control Congress, do, although Levin is the top-ranking
Democrat on the Senate Armed Services Committee and is respected at the Pentagon.
And there is precedent for senators spurring action at the Pentagon.

Sen. John McCain, R-Ariz., pushed the Pentagon to answer lingering questions in the case of NFL star Pat Tillman, who quit football to join the Army
Rangers, and was killed in Afghanistan. The result was a report nearly 2,000 pages long.

Sergeant Patrick R. McCaffrey, Sr. and First Lieutenant Andre D. Tyson died on this day two years ago in Balad, Iraq. Back then, military
officials reported that enemy insurgents ambushed them. The Army subsequently conducted an investigation and learned the men were
targeted and killed by Iraqi troops they were training.
Although the Army completed its investigation on September 30, 2005, it failed to clarify the initial notification to the families for nine
months. It took a May 22 letter from Senator Barbara Boxer's office to force the Army to finally come clean.
A month before he died, Patrick told his father that Iraqi forces they were training had attacked his unit. When he filed a complaint with
his chain of command, Patrick "was told to keep his mouth shut," his mother said.
After Patrick died, his parents conducted their own investigations. The Army denied requests to see autopsy reports. The McCaffreys
persisted. They talked to soldiers in their son’s unit and managed to learn what really happened.
Bob McCaffrey was informed by members of his son's company that insurgents were offering Iraqi soldiers about $100 for each
American they could kill. "Iraqi troops are turning on their American counterparts," Bob said. "That puts a knock in the spin that the White
House is trying to put on this story — how the Iraqis are being well trained and are getting ready to take over."
Nadia McCaffrey learned that after her son was shot, a US truck arrived. It picked up Lt. Tyson, who was dead, but did not take her son
who was still alive. The truck returned later and took him to the base, where he bled to death.
Yesterday, Brig. Gen. Oscar Hilman and three other officers visited Patrick's mother to deliver the official report. "It was overwhelming,"
Nadia told me. I had to live through the whole thing again."
The officers "tried to patronize me as a good Mom," she added. "I said I won't stand for that. I want the truth!"
When Nadia talked to Army officers yesterday she asked them, "How could you possibly let this happen"? They sat silent.
An Army official cited the "complexity" of the case as an excuse for the delay in telling the families how their sons really died, according
to the Los Angeles Times.
"They never tell the family the truth," said Ophelia Tyson, grandmother of Andre Tyson. "You know how politics is."
"I really want this story to come out; I want people to know what happened to my son," Nadia said. "There is no doubt to me that this is
still happening to soldiers today, but our chain of command is awfully reckless; they don't seem to give a damn about what's happening
to soldiers."
The father of two children, Patrick joined the National Guard the day after the Sept. 11, 2001 attacks. He was the first combat death in
the 58 year history of California's 579 Engineer Battalion, based in Petaluma, Ca. Patrick was listed as "Casualty number 848." That
was 1652 deaths ago.
"He was killed by the Iraqis that he was training," Nadia said. "People in this country need to know that."
"It's god-awful," said Bob, himself an Army veteran. "It underlies the lie of this whole situation in Iraq. It's all to me a pack of lies."
Boxer noted, "You have to ask yourself, 'What are we doing there with a blank check and a blind eye, when our soldiers are risking their
lives for the Iraqi people and the Iraqis are turning around and killing our soldiers?' We need an exit strategy."
Marjorie Cohn is a professor at Thomas Jefferson School of Law and president-elect of the National Lawyers Guild.

What is a Hero?
A man that gives himself at all times without questions
A man that takes the heavy load when no one else can
A man that makes every one around him feel special and
A man everyone is proud to have known
A man that loves his family and thinks of them always
A man that runs to the aid of a fallen soldier
A man that is loved and respected by all that he meets
A man that is stronger than life itself
A man that no one will ever forget
A true Hero is Sergeant Patrick McCaffrey

Jeannette Sarla
Patrick's Memorial
Fry's Chapelle in Tracy
Tracy has picked out new subdivisions in which streets will be named after troops killed in the Iraq war.

By John Upton

Tracy casualties of the Iraq War will be honored on street signs in new Tracy neighborhoods.

A 20-year-old City Council policy instructs developers to name at least one street in every new subdivision after a current or past resident killed while serving in the
armed forces.

Sg. Patrick McCaffrey lived on a Street named after one of Tracy’s casualties of’ the Vietnam War until he was killed in Iraq in 2004.
“After he found out he was going to deploy,” said McCaffrey’s mother, Nadia McCaffrey, “he said,
Well. I hope there’s not going to be a street named after me.’ Of course, we laughed at the time.”
A street named after Patrick McCaffrey will be in the Southgate subdivision, according to Lombardo, which is being built south of the western end of Schulte
“My grandson is now 12,” Nadia McCaffrey said. “He was talking about it this Memorial weekend, and I said, ‘Yeah, if you’re patient, we will be able to go into the
street that’s named after your dad.’ He’s really excited — he always asks about it”

A street there will also be named after Sgt. Steven Bridges, who died in December 2003. His mother, Loreta Bridges, said Thursday she was excited by the news.
Streets in the Yosemite Vista subdivision will be named after
Pfc. Jesse Martinez and Lance Cpl. Brandon Dewey. Yosemite Vista is being built east of MacArthur
Drive and south of ’Schulte Road.
It will keep Jesse’s name and him alive in the town’s eyes,” Martinez’s mother, Jan Martinez, said Thursday.
A street will be named after
Sgt. 1st Class Tung Nguyen in Tiburon Village — a 103-home project planned northwest of the corner of MacArthur Drive and Valpico
Road. Kimball Lornes spokesman Bill Stanton said he expects home construction to begin in Tihuron Village next spring.

Army Sgt. Patrick McCaffrey, sitting on his Humvee, gets a kick out of the flowers given to him by children in Balad, Iraq, just 45 minutes before he died.
McCaffrey, who grew up in Sunnyvale, joined the National Guard soon after the events of 9-11. As part of the 579th Engineer Battalion out of Petaluma, McCaffrey
was deployed to Iraq in March and died when his ground patrol unit was ambushed June 21.  

He called home every two days  
By Allison Rost  

On a hot August afternoon, the Homestead High School football team was suffering through extra wind sprints and conditioning
drills. The weather was stifling, and players were starting to grumble. But cornerback Patrick McCaffrey stepped up to encourage
his teammates to finish out practice with their heads held high.
"He wasn't the biggest guy, but he always volunteered for the biggest job. He had no fear," says Eteka Huckaby, a running back
who played alongside McCaffrey. Huckaby, who later played in three Rose Bowls as part of the University of Washington's
football team, says, "He was one of the toughest guys that I ever played with."

That zeal and fearlessness led McCaffrey to enlist with the California Army National Guard just days after the terrorist attacks on
Sept. 11, 2001. As part of the 579th Engineer Battalion out of Petaluma, McCaffrey shipped out to Iraq in March. It was there, in
the town of Balad, where the Army specialist was shot and killed when his ground patrol unit was ambushed on June 21.

This sort of situation was not something McCaffrey envisioned when he joined the National Guard, according to his mother,
Nadia McCaffrey. "He wanted to help if something like [9-11] happened again. This was the first time his unit was sent overseas
for combat since World War II. He did not expect to be going there," she says. "But once he was over there, he tried to do the
best he could."

"I really admired him for his determination, but he had that tenfold in compassion," adds Huckaby.

Nadia's son's tour in Iraq included showing his characteristic consideration for everyone but himself. She says he worked as a
medic in temperatures that reached well into the triple digits, so when it was time to rest, everyone made a run for the shade.
Not McCaffrey. "He would go around checking on the people in the shade, making sure they were OK and that they had water if
they needed it," Nadia says. "After that, maybe he would rest a little."

She recalls many similar situations in her son's past, including one that she didn't look upon favorably at the time. After
McCaffrey divorced his first wife, he borrowed an antique table from his mother to furnish his empty apartment. But when a
friend came along who needed a table, McCaffrey turned over the antique to his friend—despite the fact that his mother wanted
it back. "He said, 'Mom, you can buy another table,'" Nadia says with a laugh.

Patrick McCaffrey was born on May 26, 1970, at Stanford University Medical Center. He was the only child of Nadia and her
husband, Robert, whom she met in Paris and followed to the United States. McCaffrey's entire childhood was spent in Sunnyvale,
where he attended Bishop Elementary and graduated from Homestead in 1988. As a youngster, he played soccer and learned
judo, but football was the one thing he would have taught his children—Patrick Jr., 9, and daughter Jannessa, 2. He is also
survived by his wife, Silvia.

After attending De Anza College, McCaffrey began working at Akins Body Shop in Palo Alto, where he remained for 13 years.
Upon his return, he was slated to become the general manager for two shops under the same ownership. Palo Alto was a long
commute from his home in Tracy, where he relocated five years ago. McCaffrey loved his job, but his priority was affording a
house for his family.

"The guy had the biggest heart," Huckaby says. "He was one of the most gracious people you'd ever meet."

Before McCaffrey left for Iraq, he made his mother promise to take care of his wife and children, so Nadia moved to Tracy from
Sunnyvale. His father remained in Sunnyvale, but will likely move soon. "He would call every two days because he was worried
about us," Nadia says. She adds that communication lines were so bad that her son often waited in lines for more than two hours.

The last time she spoke to him was through a video link via computer on Father's Day. Nadia, her daughter-in-law and
grandchildren trooped to Petaluma to speak to McCaffrey over the Internet. But at that point, two days before her son's death,
Nadia knew there was something wrong. "He was so overjoyed to see us, but I just knew. I was sure I would never see him
again," she says.

Since word of McCaffrey's death has spread—Nadia has appeared on Good Morning America and KTVU's Mornings on Two—she
has heard from a number of his friends and her own Sunnyvale neighbors, who are also devastated at the news. "He touched
people in this special way," Nadia says. "I don't know how he did that."

She remembers her son best in a photograph taken just an hour before his death. "He's sitting on his Humvee, beaming, holding
flowers that local children had given him," she says. She's posted the picture at the website she hosts for her nonprofit

Huckaby hadn't seen McCaffrey since before he shipped out, but says his football buddy was the type of guy with whom he
always made sure to keep in contact. He compares McCaffrey to Pat Tillman, the former Arizona Cardinals football player who was
killed in Afghanistan, because both were willing to take on anything, even if they weren't the best candidates for the job. "I
always knew Patrick as the guy who would sacrifice himself for the betterment of the people around him," Huckaby says. "I'm
heartbroken that's how it ended up."

Services were held in Tracy and Livermore, with interment in Oceanside. McCaffrey posthumously received the Purple Heart  the
Bronze Star, and the California Memorial Medal. His coworkers at Akins Body Shop are keeping the memorials going with a
remembrance scrapbook and voice message bank that have been set up at the shop's Palo Alto location.

They have also set up a trust fund for McCaffrey's two children.
Patrick McCaffrey's Boots Can Be Viewed in a
Glass Case, OnBoard the Bus
Posted on Tuesday 29 June 2004

A mother in Sacramento isn’t letting Bush’s press blackout keep her son hidden from the

The mother of a soldier killed in Iraq invited news coverage of the arrival of her son’s flag-draped casket at Sacramento
International Airport.

Nearly a dozen reporters, photographers and television crews were present when the coffin of Army Sgt. Patrick McCaffrey, 34,
was transferred to a hearse outside a cargo terminal late Sunday.

McCaffrey “did not die for nothing. … The way he lived needs to be talked about. Patrick was not a fighter, he was a
peacemaker,” his mother, Nadia McCaffrey, told the Los Angeles Times.
CBS JUNE 22 2006

Nadia McCaffrey
Gold Star Mother,
of the Patrick McCaffrey
President of American
Federation of State, County
and Municipal EmployeesSan
Francisco July 26 2008
Moscone Center
..."believe me, Mom, many of us are ashamed of them, and they don't deserve to wear our colors"

Sgt Patrick Ryan McCaffrey Sr. June 2004