Col. Kevin Brown stood tall and proud and often ventured "outside the wire" with his soldiers in Baghdad. Under the sizzle of the Iraqi sun, I watched him meticulously pin medals on their uniforms.
When he retired in 2011, he walked the Appalachian Trail to clear his head and began a tough Ph.D. program in security studies at Kansas State University. A stellar military career in hand, Brown had his life on track. Except for one thing.
He harbored an emptiness within, the kind that rushes in after a hard-fought, 15-month combat tour ends. He felt responsible, still, for the lives he touched at war.
One of them was a girl named Noor al-Zahra Haider.
He'd wondered all these years what had happened to the child his soldiers helped save. He sought out people who might have an answer -- Army buddies, journalists and an Iraqi sheikh he'd befriended in the neighborhood where Noor used to live. But no one knew.
He finally connected with her Wednesday through a package from America. The goods were donated, but they were delivered to Noor's home in Baghdad largely because of Brown's efforts.
For Noor, crippled by spina bifida, it's a gift that is sure to bring relief. She received a new wheelchair and other things to help her cope with her disability.
For Brown, it means fulfillment, closure -- if there is such a thing -- to one part of his life at war
