In a reporter's career at a small-town newspaper, there are probably only a few stories one can cover that will stand out as being remarkable. I have been blessed with many, but one story stands out to me as incredible. It was a once in a lifetime story that I was fortunate enough to cover for Memorial Day 2006.

Charles Gordon Wofford, a retired Vietnam veteran, shared his veteran's story with me. It was a story that touched my heart as well as many Chronicle readers.

It all started when I got a phone call the week before from a very country-talking fellow. He said he would be meeting the family of a guy he served with in Vietnam 36 years ago who had saved his life. He said a lady author who wrote a book about her father getting killed in Vietnam told him to call the newspaper and tell us about the meeting.

"Are you interested in a story like that? She said you might be. I don't know. If you're not interested, then you don't have to pay any attention to what I'm saying," Gordon Wofford said. "I don't want to waste your time."

I almost got the feeling that he wanted me to say no.

I hesitated because I wasn't exactly sure what he was saying, what he really wanted or how it possibly related to Crossville.

I asked him a few questions and found out he lived in Crossville and the meeting would take place here at his home.

"I'll tell you what. I got a file I can bring up there to you and let you look at it. Then you can tell me if you want to do anything. If not, I'll take it home with me and be on my way," he said.

I agreed and Gordon brought the file. I still have it. It was full of handwritten notes and printouts from veteran-related Web sites.

He was a tall man wearing jeans and a Vietnam veterans hat and had a full, graying, white beard.

It turned out that Gordon was meeting with the widow and her daughter of the medic who saved his life in Vietnam. The two, Deb and Angela Krebsbach, never knew who the wounded soldier was that their husband and father, Ronald Krebsbach, was tending to when he was shot and killed by a sniper.

Gordon was that soldier. And Gordon never knew the name of the man who saved his life.

The man who died with his arm around Gordon's shoulder, while Gordon lay there with his jaw shot, had pulled Gordon down to the ground. Another shot rang out and the medic was killed. He blew his last breath of air into Gordon's face.

It turned out there were two people killed in that battle in Cambodia on May 28, 1970. Gordon's commanding officer and Doc - Ronald Krebsbach - the man who saved Gordon.

Gordon found the family some 34 years later through searching on the Internet and discovering a memorial posting Angela made about her father on Manchu.org.

A picture of Doc was posted and his death was on the same date that Gordon had been shot and during the same battle. Since only two were killed and one of them was his commanding officer, Gordon knew this was the man who had saved his life.

He wrote to the daughter, who was unborn at the time her father was killed in Vietnam, and told her he was with her father when he was killed.

"She immediately wrote back and said she wanted me to tell her everything about her father," Gordon said.

The two wrote back and forth for two years until they planned to meet in person in 2006.

I went to Gordon's house where he and Doc's wife, Deb, and daughter, Angela, and I sat in a bright, sun room on the back of Gordon's home and the three shared their story.

It was a healing process for all three.

It was a healing for the man who lived for more than 30 years with survivor's guilt. Gordon longed to thank the family of the man who he didn't even know, but who saved his life. Gordon spent 19 months in Walter Reed Army Hospital recovering from having his jaw reconstructed. He had to learn to talk and eat again - all at the age of 19.

"I've thought of him every day since. When I put in my teeth - I think of him," Gordon said.

It was healing and closure for Deb, who at a young age lost her husband at war while she was pregnant with their unborn child. She never remarried. She missed him terribly.

"I always wondered whatever happened to that soldier," she said. "It's nice to know someone else has been thinking about him for all these years."

And it was a healing for Angela, who grew up without a father, never knowing the circumstances around his death or the type of person he was while in Vietnam.

"I've learned more about my father in the last four years than I have in the first 30," Angela said.

After the three-hour meeting between us, there wasn't a dry eye in the house.

"There were some things said today that I don't think ever would have been said if you weren't here," Deb said.

Gordon's wife, Pam, told me she was so touched by meeting the two and getting to know them that they were like family.

"There has been a tremendous amount of guilt lifted ... I feel like I can talk to them now about anything. We are bonded like best friends, family. I want to do all I can for them and I want to be there for them — whatever they need. I would walk the aisle with her if she wanted me to," Gordon said.

It was a day I know I will never forget.

I've always had a soft spot in my heart for the Vietnam veterans. Many were treated as criminals and looked shamefully upon as they returned home. Until recently, they never received a proper welcome home from their country, which they served. Many of their families were treated horribly by both the military and their neighbors.

It made me feel good that I was able to tell such a positive story about a veteran, who served his country proudly, but who suffered for years under survivor's guilt.

To be a part of that is hard to put into words.

That weekend, after Angela and Deb left Crossville and went back to Minnesota, Gordon rode his motorcycle out to Washington D.C. with other Vietnam veterans with Rolling Thunder. He rode in the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Day parade. As he went to the Vietnam Veteran's Memorial Wall, he was finally able to touch the name of the man who had saved his life some 30 years before.

"It was a feeling I will never forget as long as I live," Gordon later told me.

Gordon used to call me on the phone a lot after that story was published. He became a good friend. He told me there weren't many people he had ever cried in front of like that.

Gordon was diagnosed with cancer about a year later after he fell ill with a brain tumor. He collapsed on a Sunday morning in May at home and was flown out by helicopter to Erlanger Medical Center where they performed brain surgery and saved his life. So many people prayed for Gordon. They prayed for his recovery and survival.

Miraculously, Gordon came back from that and learned to walk again. Unfortunately, he lost some of his speaking ability and was unable to read.

"Sometimes I'll think of the words, but I just don't know what to say. I see the picture of what I want to say in my mind, but I can't say it," he said.

It was frustrating for him. Telling stories and reading were two of his favorite activities. The cancer slowly came back.

His wife faithfully stayed by his side over the past two years as Gordon's health progressively got worse and eventually the cancer was unable to be stopped.

After his long battle, Gordon passed away last Friday at home in a bed in the sun room where he used to sit and read, or watch the birds and where he shared his amazing story with me.

What really amazes me is that I never would have known about Gordon's story had it not been for Karen Spears Zacharias, who owns the Web site HeroMama.org. This woman, who lives some 2,000 miles away from Crossville, in the state of Oregon, brought Gordon to me.

Karen is the author who wrote the book that Gordon said helped change his life. The book, originally named Hero Mama, is now titled After The Flag Has Been Folded. It is a memoir of her family and their survival after her father was killed in Vietnam in 1966.

After seeing her on a television interview, Gordon met Karen at a book signing and followed her all around the south. He appeared at many of her book signings if they were within a day's drive. She jokingly referred to him as her stalker. Karen was the one who prompted Gordon to call the newspaper.

She has since written another book, Where's Your Jesus Now. It was released last August and Gordon is mentioned in a chapter of the book. She became very close to Gordon and his family and delivered the eulogy at Gordon's funeral service last Sunday.

I will miss Gordon.

His story telling was second none. He was the kind of man who looked at things the way they were and wasn't afraid to set the record straight. A brave man. He served his country with honor, loved to garden, loved motorcycles, loved to read, tell stories and loved the south.

Gordon was the kind of man you just don't see that often in this day and age.

I know his family and friends will miss him dearly. My prayers are with his grown children, Brenda and Eddie, and Gordon's wife, Pam. May God bless and comfort them.

After Gordon's story was published in the Chronicle, he had two copies of the story permanently mounted on a plaque at Crossville Trophy. He gave one of those to Karen. When I met her she jokingly told me I'm the only reporter who has a story hanging in her living room. He proudly showed it to me one day shortly after he got it back.

At Gordon's funeral, his medals and patches from his service in Vietnam were on display. The family also had the plaque of his Chronicle story on display. It brought tears to my eyes as I saw it there on display.

After all, it was my honor to have been the one allowed to share that incredible moment in Gordon's life. It was my honor to be able to share his story and gain his friendship.

May God bless you, Gordon, my friend. No longer will you have to suffer.

As Gordon would always say, "Keep up the fire!"