Memories of LCp. David B. Houck

“In August, 2004, I was asked to send one of my best Marines in the platoon to a class to learn how to fly an Unmanned Aerial Vehicle (called the “Dragon-Eye”) that was to be used for aerial surveillance during our company-level operations. David immediately came to mind. David’s proficiency flying the surveillance plane was quickly recognized by the highest ranks in our battalion and was used on numerous occasions including the operation leading into Fallujah. On 25 Nov 2004, David selflessly exposed himself to enemy gunfire several times to pull wounded Marines to safety and give them medical attention. Because of his bravery, there are several Marines coming home alive today.”  1st Lt. Christopher Wilkens, XO of  Bravo Company, 1st Battalion/8th Marines 

“On 26 Nov 2004 in the third house we entered, the kitchen door was locked. We walked in a ranger file into the living room. Dave, was first; I was the last of five. Dave went up to the door, turned around and said, "You ready?" and the Iraqis ambushed immediately. Dave died quickly from a machine gun burst. We were pinned down for almost 45 minutes in that room. If Dave hadn’t fallen the way he did, blocking the kitchen door, the insurgents could’ve thrown grenades into the living room and none of us would’ve made it out alive.”  LCpl. Alex Saxby 

P.S. That's the Providence of God, folks! Jesus made sure those of you on David's fire team came back alive, so that you could hear the good news of salvation...that Jesus can give you new life...eternal life...and be reunited with believers in heaven someday. Jesus said in John 11:25-26, "I AM the Resurrection and the Life. He who believes in me, though he were dead, yet SHALL he life. And whosoever lives and believes in me shall NEVER die. Do you believe this?" David just changed addresses and he wants all you Marine brothers to know Jesus personally, too! 

You Marines, feel free to contact me anytime: mama-hawk@att.net 

Autobiography of David B. Houck, senior year of high school

I was born in Rowan Memorial Hospital to two very proud parents who took me home to our house in Rockwell, North Carolina after a few days in the hospital. Although not the oldest child, I received all the love and care due to any baby by its parents.

Because my father was a career Navy man, my childhood took place in several geographic locations. Around the age of one or two, my family moved to Jacksonville, Florida. It was here that I first discovered my enormous attraction to accidents. After living in Jacksonville for a couple of years, my father was transferred to the naval base in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. We lived in Pennsylvania until I was seven or eight years old. During this time, I was actively involved with my schoolwork and church activities. Three years later, my father was again transferred to a naval base in Charleston, South Carolina. In South Carolina, my free time was spent playing with our neighbors and attending the Awana Clubs at our church.

It was also in South Carolina that I understood my need for salvation while attending a revival week at our church. On Wednesday night of that week, I could not fall asleep after the sermon. I shuffled out of bed and down the hall to my parents’ bedroom. When asked why I was not asleep, I replied that I was afraid of going to hell. My parents explained that I did not have to go to hell, and that there was a way to avoid eternal fire. That night, I accepted God’s offer of life instead of death. My father was soon transferred to Delaware, and I found myself living in Pennsylvania once again. Because I went to school at home, I used my church youth group as my sole social outlet.

When my father was transferred to Little Rock, Arkansas, I became active once again in my new youth group. One year later, at the age of fifteen, I went on a summer missions trip with Word of Life to the Philippines and Korea. While on this trip, I began to fully comprehend the true purpose of a Christian life. I began to see that each believer must attempt to spread the good news, starting with those around him and extending throughout the world. I said nothing about this to anyone, however, because I really wanted to fly. My sole purpose in life, I thought, was to pursue a career in the Air Force, or in commercial airlines!

When my father retired and my family moved to North Carolina, I spoke with my new youth pastor, Jonathan Miles, about my ambitions. He asked me if it was possible that God had something even better for me in a different area. He reminded me that every Christian should seek to minister to others unless stopped by God. Currently, I am completing my senior year of home education via the Christian Liberty Academy Satellite School curriculum and working part time with my brother at a restaurant in Winston-Salem. I would like to pursue a career involved with youth ministry. 

P.S. David is more alive today than he's every been because there's ONE who rose from the dead to prove it is true. If you're reading this now, Jesus is offering you the gift of eternal life. You can't earn it, you can't work for it, b/c Jesus died in your place. He took all your sin upon Himself as your substitute. David would invite you now to let Jesus get in the driver's seat and you ride shotgun. Let Jesus into your life. You'll never regret that decision! 
For God so loved YOU that He gave his only begotten Son (Jesus), so that whosoever (that's YOU) believes in Him (Jesus), shall NEVER perish, but have ETERNAL LIFE, guaranteed! John 3:16 

When I think of my brother, one particular event inevitably springs to mind.  Back when we lived in Chester, PA, during one particularly good snowfall, we all decided to go sledding on a nearby hill. The snow was deep and soft, and the hill was steep enough with some sticks and reeds to keep things interesting…perfect for us three boys—Robert, myself, and David.  Of course, Mom and our sisters were there should anything go wrong (also something to help spice up the flavor—an audience!). 

Well, we started sledding down this hill, the wind in our faces, the snow kicking up to either side.  Eventually, simple sledding wasn’t enough and Rob and David decided to go face-first down the hill.  With typical motherly caution, Mom decreed that it probably wasn’t safe to go down the hill.  Fortunately, I had just gotten my push off to follow my brothers in their reckless endeavor.  My sled cut through the snow swiftly and surely; I could feel the wind cutting at my teeth and taking my breath away!  When I reached the bottom and stood up, I noticed something strange at my feet.  In patches, the snow had turned crimson and more was coming.  Looking up the hill, I noticed my brother David racing down towards me, followed quickly by Rob.  Scooping me up, they rapidly extracted me to the top of the hill where I was told my cheek was badly cut.  David immediately applied and held a cloth in place where it remained (along with him) all the way to the hospital. 

I don’t remember anything of the stitches as I was given a local anesthesia and was lulled to sleep by the boredom of the situation.  David and Mom accompanied me back home and, upon hearing the doctor’s direction to apply ice to the stitches on and off, Dave volunteered to be the one to assist me in this menial task (though it’s possible he simply wanted to play the video game I would be playing while supper was being prepared).  That was my brother David, the true man beneath, protective and always, always, always, always thinking of the other man to his own detriment. -- Micah Houck

Snowballs and Soap Dishes

It was a cold, wintry evening….the sort of evening when odd things are just itching to happen. Snow had been falling all night and all day, but had finally settled down to a deafening, sparkling blanket tucking the earth in for the night. It was just begging to be scooped up and shaped into the perfect snowball. I was on dish detail that evening and perhaps standing in one spot with both my hands in a tub of hot soapy water made me too easy of a victim. Or maybe it was some sort of snow-induced cabin fever. Whatever the reason, it wasn’t too long before I heard the back door close, and felt the icy splatter of a snowball making direct contact with my back. Of course, it was my imp of a brother….David…..the only person who would go out of his way to have a snowball fight….INDOORS! As the older sister, I, of course, responded with sensibility and reason. I shrieked and yelled something that was meant to be threatening perhaps about locked doors not being enough protection for the wrath of an injured sister. 

In spite of my dire threats, David went about his nightly routine smirking confidently. I had to bide my time until I was certain my younger and speedier brother would be off his guard and not hide some place where I would get in trouble for making a huge mess. My patience paid off when my brother took his turn in the shower and a large snowball made its way upstairs. When I was sure he was in the middle of bathing, I silently crept into the bathroom and lobbed the snowball over the shower curtain and hopefully right onto my shocked brother. There was a shriek, a smirk on my part, then a loud crash and a cry for help. 

Unfortunately, I had not calculated my brother’s quick reflexes into my devious scheme. He had leaped out of the way to avoid the snowball, slipped and landed squarely on the ceramic soap dish attached to the wall of the bathtub. He broke the soap dish which retaliated by gouging a huge hole in his back. Mom bolted upstairs to check out the commotion, and with swift “Mom-sense” deduced that her middle son needed to go to the emergency room, and her eldest daughter had a really big mess to clean up. Mom and David slipped and slid driving all the way to the emergency room while I cleaned up the bloody bathroom and watched the younger children. It was worse than penance. In fact, I have since had a great deal of respect for snowballs and soap dishes. -- Melissa Houck Carrasco (older sister)