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small. “I was always
a side player in this
wonderful man’s life
and gave him con-
stant support, but
now it’s entirely up
to me,” she says. “When he died, every future
goal of mine died. I’m sure every feminist would
hate me for saying that, but it’s true. Now I’m
trying to find who I am and how I move on a
path forward for my family.”
While the rest of America has remained dis-
tant from the 18-year-old war that stole her
husband, she has been drawn closer to it. It
is now a central part of her life. Since Brent’s
death, Jennie has sought out the soldiers with
whom Brent fought and other families who
have lost someone to war. She works on causes
that show how the brunt of today’s conflict is
borne by a few American military families and
small communities. There are 14,000 American
troops in Afghanistan now, down from about
100,000 in 2011. An average of two American
troops die there each month. But if you aren’t
in the military or don’t have a family member in
the military, today’s conflicts have little impact
on your life.
She’s launched efforts inside North Ogden
to ensure that Brent’s legacy as mayor stays
alive by throwing her political support behind
a successor who’s committed to continuing
Brent’s pro-business initiatives, which often
rankled community elders. She’s also dedicated
to seeing that some good ultimately comes
from the bloody, and seemingly endless, Amer-
ican wars abroad. She has launched a founda-
tion in Brent’s name that helps widows and
military families; she’s raising $60,000 for a
gold-star family memorial in North Ogden and
another in Salt Lake City; she’s spearheaded a
blood drive, aims to sponsor a 5K race next year
and perhaps coordinate a golf tournament; she
attends and speaks at events around the coun-
try. “I don’t have any education that qualifies
me to lead these causes,” she says. “But I feel a
responsibility to celebrate those who not only
die for our country but are willing to sacrifice
on behalf of this country.”
She has learned things along the way. Her ex-
perience with the military system that serves
surviving families, for example, has been mixed.
Getting widows’ benefits has been a challenge,
and the government can be brusque. The Army
still hasn’t told Jennie exactly what happened to
Brent. All she knows is that an Afghan soldier,
someone Brent was trying to help, shot him
in the back of head during a routine march on
base near Kabul, the Afghan capital. She doesn’t
know who the killer is, how he pulled off the at-
tack, what drove him to do it or whether any-
thing has been done to prevent its happening
again. She’s been told an investigation is in its
final stages, but her questions keep piling up.
Then there are the more immediate needs
of her seven children, who range from 1 year to
14 years old. When they wake up at 6 a.m., Jen-
nie’s “reality show” begins. Seven breakfasts to
be made. Seven sets of teeth that need brush-
ing. They’ll need a ride to school. They’ll need
to be picked up. They’ll need a cooler full of
sports drinks for flag football and cheer prac-
tice. They’ll need a ride there too. Laundry.
Dinner. Baths. The routine repeats. There are
no days off.
Many people in North Ogden, a mountain-
ringed middle-class suburb of nearly 20,000
north of Salt Lake City, have helped. Brent wasHow do you tell sevenchildren their dad is dead?