By MIKE RUSSO
But sadly, Rodriguez was also among the first to be killed in the war - more specifically the first New Yorker - after the tank he was traveling in became separated from its convoy during a sandstorm and plunged into the Euphrates River on March 25, 2003. He was 21.
For the Rodriguez family, who moved from Queens to Baldwin to be closer to his gravesite in Farmingdale, times have been a little easier since that tragic day six years ago, but family members say this time of year always brings back painful memories.
"It's more this time of year because this is the anniversary," said Rodriguez's sister, Hyda Hernandez-Lopez. "It's more like we relive the whole thing all over again. It hits us all over again as if it was yesterday."
'Just an average guy'
Rodriguez, whose family called him Marcus, grew up much like other young men. He enjoyed spending time with his siblings, shopping for nice clothes, playing sports and lifting weights.
Family members described him as someone who would always look out for others, whether that was interrogating his sisters' boyfriends or stopping a fight between complete strangers.
Hernandez-Lopez said her brother was someone with a very strong character and a good heart. Though he was an American, Rodriguez never forgot his Puerto Rican roots, and made sure to attend every Puerto Rican Day Parade in Manhattan.
'We were all in shock'
The Rodriguez family said they don't have an official account of what happened that tragic day, but that military officials told them that the tank likely became separated from the convoy due to poor visibility during the sandstorm, or that possibly the driver had been shot.
As the tank was crossing a bridge over the Euphrates River, it apparently hit a railing before falling upside down into the water. The tank's only exit, a hatch at the top of the vehicle, was wedged against the ground at the bottom of the river, trapping Rodriguez and the others inside, where they drowned.
Because of the sandstorm, Hernandez-Lopez said, the rest of the convoy didn't realize until almost a day later the tank was missing. And they couldn't send out a search team until the storm ended.
Military officials didn't have an answer for the Rodriguez family when they first came to their house in Queens to report the incident. The told the family that Rodriguez was missing, but they thought he was safe somewhere. But when two highly decorated officers knocked on their door soon after that, it was painfully obvious to the family that something was terribly wrong.
Hernandez-Lopez remembers not letting the officers in the house at first because she couldn't bear to hear what they had to say. She even closed the door on them for a few minutes. But eventually, she invited them in, but only after insisting that they tell her the news before informing their mother, Amarilys Hernandez, because she knew she'd have to be strong for her.
"We were all in shock; we were still not believing that he was actually gone," said Hernandez-Lopez. And even after six years, she still finds herself asking her mother if Rodriguez phoned home. "I forget at times. I have to get used stop asking [Amarilys] if he called yet because it will just make it worse. She still hasn't fully recovered from it."
'It's something that he grew up with'
The Rodriguez family is no stranger to military service. Many members of the family have served either in the Marines, the Army or the Navy. But Rodriguez was one of the few to serve during wartime, and that was a relatively new experience for the family.
Hernandez-Lopez said that when Rodriguez first told his family that he would be going to Iraq, she urged him to be cautious, but wasn't overly worried until the war actually began. "It was more of 'you be careful' and 'don't be the first one to volunteer,'" she said. "Now we are looking at a war and saying 'wow, this is really hitting home.'
But Hernandez-Lopez said that there was no stopping Rodriguez from going to Iraq, even if they wanted to. At age 17, when he was not yet old enough to enlist, Rodriguez insisted on getting his mother's approval to sign up. "It's something he grew up with; it was always around him," she said of her brother's interest in the service. "Even if he had to wait until 18, he was going to sign up. No matter what, he was going."
Keeping his memory alive
Rodriguez may no longer be with them, but his family still includes him in its daily lives. They set a place for him at the table, cook his favorite meal often, and even put out a beer for him - as he had always looked forward to drinking with them when he was old enough.
Things have gotten easier, Hernandez-Lopez said, as far as reaching a point that the family can laugh about past experiences shared with him. Each year, on Rodriguez's birthday - Feb. 15 - after the family visits the cemetery, they celebrate with a birthday cake, something Hernandez-Lopez said they weren't able to do for several years after Rodriguez was killed.
Since moving to Baldwin, the family has dedicated a room to Rodriguez, adorned with all his medals, his uniform, pictures and gifts he's sent home. Amarilys, who keeps a candle lit in the room at all times, often goes into the room to speak to her son, said Hernandez-Lopez. According to Hernandez-Lopez, Amarilys believes she has heard her son speaking to her and felt him hugging her.
"We feel he's here with us," said Hernandez-Lopez. "We do everything possible to keep his memory alive."
The family still owns the Queens home where Rodriguez grew up, and visit the house whenever possible. The street where he grew up has since been renamed "Corporal Robert
Marcus Rodriguez Way."
"Now we're celebrating his life; we're not celebrating his death," said Hernandez-Lopez. "It comes with a little more understanding. Maybe it's what the Lord wants from us. We celebrate life, his memory, what he brought into our lives. We are thankful that we even had him in our family to begin with."
Comments about this story? MRusso@liherald.com or (516) 569-4000 ext 283.
