Connie Noll worked as a conference coordinator in Collins Hall at the U.S. Army War College in Carlisle, PA. At 4:00 PM July 15, 1994, Connie turned off her computer, wished her office mates a great weekend, and left Collins Hall. She made the right-hand turn into the driveway at 3095 Ritner Highway and hit the garage door opener. As the garage door slowly rose, she noticed that her husband’s Cherokee was parked to the side of its normal spot. Then she saw him. “Oh my God, Jack! What have you done?” she cried out. The scene was macabre, like something out of a horror movie. As the garage door finished opening, Connie saw Jack hanging from a rope tied to a ceiling joist.
On Monday, July 25, I had a meeting with Connie Noll. This was the first time that I had met her, and I had no idea what she had just been through. We discussed the details of a conference that I was hosting in September. I left Collins Hall en route to the hospital in Harrisburg. My wife Barbara was in the hospital fighting for her life after an eighteen-month battle with breast cancer. Two days later, her breathing and her heart stopped. The doctors were able to revive her, but the prognosis was not good. She remained in a coma for twenty-one days before she finally passed away. The date was August 16, 1994, a month and one day after the death of Jack Noll.
On September 14, I went to Collins Hall to start greeting guests that were coming to the conference. I saw Connie Noll and we exchanged greetings. During our discussion she said that a co-worker told her about the loss of my wife and she offered her condolences. I thanked her and we talked briefly. I still had no idea of her personal situation. Later that day one of the War College professors asked me if I knew that Connie had just lost her husband. I felt stunned and embarrassed. I got up from my chair and went looking for Connie. When I found her I told her I had just learned about her husband, and I was terribly sorry I hadn’t returned her condolences. Connie said, “That’s okay, you wouldn’t have any reason to know.” It did not make me feel any less of a heel, but at least I had told her how I felt. I saw Connie again late in the afternoon of the second day of the conference, just before one of the breaks. We were alone in the break area. We exchanged greetings and Connie suggested maybe we ought to get together to talk. I agreed that sharing our pain and suffering was probably a good idea.
I moved to Fort Leavenworth one week later. Connie and I maintained our long distance friendship that soon developed into a mutual love. We married on September 30th 1995 and will celebrate fifteen wonderful years together in 2010.
