May 26, 2026 – Kewaskum, Wi – Chaz Dreher of Kewaskum, Wi, paid tribute to his grandfather whose plane disappeared over the Bering Strait during the Vietnam War. Below is Dreher’s Memorial Day speech.
On this Memorial Day, we come together as a community to honor the brave men and women of the United States Armed Forces who sacrificed their lives for our country. We remember their sacrifice, their service, and the freedoms we enjoy because of them.
For many, Memorial Day also signals the start of summer — a time for family gatherings and celebrations. But ceremonies like this remind us that Memorial Day has a deeper significance. It is a day of remembrance. A day to pause. A day to reflect on the true cost of freedom.
Behind every cemetery flag, every engraved name, and every salute lies a story and a family forever changed. The sacrifice of service members doesn’t end with them; it echoes through generations.
My family knows that kind of loss firsthand. I never had the chance to meet my paternal grandfather, Charles Dreher, but his legacy lives on through stories, memories, and the loved ones he left behind.
My grandfather was born in Kewaskum, Wisconsin, enlisted in the Air Force in 1956, and served proudly for 13 years. In June of 1969, as a Technical Sergeant, he was aboard an RC‑135E reconnaissance aircraft, call sign Irene 92, known as Rivet Amber. The aircraft departed Shemya Island in the Pacific and disappeared over the Bering Strait.
The plane and its crew never returned home. For families, the wait didn’t end when the search did. There was no final goodbye. No last loving conversation. No closure. Only hope for answers that never fully arrived.
I’ve often wondered what that must have been like for my grandmother — to raise children while carrying grief and uncertainty. I’ve thought about my father and aunts growing older with memories instead of moments. Imagine children waiting for a father who never comes home. A family learning to live with unanswered questions.
Loss like that changes a family. It becomes part of birthdays, holidays, graduations, and quiet conversations for years to come. Even generations afterward, it remains.
I was born decades later into a family still carrying that loss. As a child, I only knew that my grandfather was absent from moments when grandfathers are usually present — birthdays, graduations, holidays.
As I grew, I came to understand that Memorial Day isn’t just about history; it’s about people. It’s about families.
We often think of sacrifice only on battlefields or in heroic acts in combat. Those sacrifices deserve our deepest respect. But families left behind also make quiet sacrifices over the years.
Over time, I’ve often wondered what my grandfather gave up — the chance to grow old with his wife, to see his children become adults, to meet his grandchildren. Even though I never knew him, his absence shaped my life. I believe many here understand that feeling.
When someone gives their life in service to this country, that sacrifice continues through generations. Yet remembrance has a way of healing.
In September 2023, over 50 years after Rivet Amber disappeared, my family was invited to Offutt Air Force Base in Nebraska. The Air Force unveiled a memorial honoring the 19 men lost aboard Irene 92.
Standing there, seeing their names permanently remembered, brought a kind of closure that’s hard to describe. For most of my life, my grandfather existed through photos, stories, and the people who missed him dearly.
Standing at that memorial, I realized something I hadn’t fully understood before: they had not been forgotten. Their service mattered. Their sacrifice mattered. And even after more than 50 years, people still stood, saluted, and spoke their names aloud.
I don’t know if closure is ever truly complete for families like ours. But remembrance helps lighten the burden.
What moved me most wasn’t just the memorial, but the care shown to our families. Even after more than five decades, the Air Force treated our loss as if it had happened yesterday. That meant more than I can say.
After the ceremony, our family was invited by leadership to attend the 75th Air Force Ball. After decades of grief and unanswered questions, families of the crew could laugh, dance with one another, share stories, and celebrate the lives of those we lost.
For a moment, remembrance felt lighter. I realized then that remembrance isn’t just about mourning. It’s about honoring life, preserving legacy, and making sure those who served are never forgotten.
Our nation owes a debt we can’t fully repay. But we can remember. We can speak their names, tell their stories, and ensure their sacrifices live on beyond history books and memorial stones.
The freedoms we enjoy every day — speech, worship, gathering freely, raising families in peace, disagreeing without fear, voting, building communities — exist because others accepted burdens many of us will never face.
Some served knowing the risks. Some were called unexpectedly. Some left home believing they’d return. Many did not.
Today unites us through a shared understanding: Different generations. Different conflicts. Different uniforms. But the same sacrifice. The same love. The same hope that those we lost will never be forgotten.
Today, we honor everyone who made the ultimate sacrifice — the soldiers, sailors, Marines, Airmen, Coast Guardsmen — and the families who carried that loss long after the uniforms were put away
To the Gold Star families here today: Your loved ones are remembered, and your continued strength is honored.
Memorial Day also calls us to responsibility — not just to remember once a year, but to live in a way that honors what they gave up. To care for each other. To protect the freedoms they defended. To teach younger generations that liberty is never guaranteed.
Because remembrance keeps legacy alive, we all have a responsibility to remember, to teach, to preserve stories before they disappear. Because one day, each of us becomes the person responsible for carrying someone else’s memory forward.
I stand here today carrying my grandfather’s memory and as his namesake I honor him to the best of my ability. Many of you carry someone else’s.
I often wish I could have known my grandfather personally. I wish I could have heard his stories or thanked him myself. But today, I realize this: Even though I never met him, his life still speaks — through the family he left behind, through the values he passed on, and through moments like this, when communities gather to remember.
That is the power of remembrance. The fallen are never truly gone as long as we honor their memory.
So today, let us remember all who made the ultimate sacrifice. Let us remember not only how they died, but how they lived. Let us honor the families who carried their memory forward. And let us leave here committed to living in a way worthy of the freedoms they fought to preserve.
To all who served and gave their lives for our nation, we offer our gratitude. To the families who continue to carry that loss, we offer our respect. And to those we remember today: May we never forget.
God bless the United States of America. Thank you.
Photos courtesy the Dreher family.
