It was amazing working with you, over the years we became more than coworkers, but Friends and ill cherish that always.

All my love
Ullanda

You are my sunshine and I'm going to miss you so much.
Love you baby
Ahlia

Not all firewatches end with sleep.
Some end with silence—
not surrender, but relief.
The kind earned.

Jamahl Sutton, MARINE;
your name won’t fade with time.
It lives in the cadence we keep,
in the boots we lace,
in the oaths still whispered at zero-dark-thirty.

You bore the emblem— Eagle aloft, globe in grasp, anchor sunk deep—
and lived its weight like armor,
not decoration.

You didn’t chase glory.
You stood your post.
You showed up.
You held the line even when it frayed.

Now we say,
the watch is done.
Relieved with honor.
Released with pride.

And somewhere past the veil,
beneath old beams and ghost-light,
there’s a place where Marines gather—
laughter low, stories rolling,
glasses raised, bottles clinked.
A seat at the bench at Tun Tavern
now bears your name.

You earned that welcome,
earned that peace.

To his family—
I do not pretend to grasp the depth of what you're feeling.
That’s yours, sacred and unspoken.
But know this:
As Jamahl's sergeant and his brother in arms,
I stood beside him in moments most will never see.

While I cannot feel your sorrow,
I carry a sorrow of my own.
And I promise you:
His legacy is held tightly in the hands of those who served with him.
We will not let his memory fade.

Semper Fidelis.
We carry your post forward.