Mike Tripp, HMM 363, Return to Base

Yesterday I got the call no Marine wants to get: Ella called to tell me her husband Mike had passed. This one is a heartbreaker. Mike and Ella lived in Rhode Island and every summer my family would run into the Tripps on Block Island, as that was our fun place. They’d come over aboard their boat, the Power Tripp, and we’d all look forward to seeing them every summer. Those were great summers.

I first met Mike back when I was the webmaster for the USMC Combat Helicopter Association (POPASMOKE). They held reunions every other year and my first one with Mike was in 1998. From reunions to Block Island, spending time with Mike was an honor and a blast. He was as genuine a human being as they come and was nothing if not 100 percent Marine. He served with HMM-363 Lucky Red Lions, a helicopter squadron in Vietnam. He had that quiet toughness and the kind of easy laugh that put people at ease. He was the unofficial “Mayor” of Payne’s Dock, a good friend to many, a devoted husband to Ella, and a proud father.

Here’s a little Block Island moment that always makes me laugh, and it shows exactly how small the world could be around Tripper. One summer my sister-in-law Magda and her friend Tony were at Mahogany Shoals bar on Payne’s Dock. Tony was wearing a Marine Corps T-shirt I’d given him. Tripper, not knowing who they were, walked over and struck up a conversation about Marines. Tony said he wasn’t a Marine, he’d just been given the shirt by a Marine, and when Tripper asked the Marine’s name Tony said, “Wally Beddoe.” Tripper’s eyes lit up and he said, “No shit, how do you know Wally?” Magda and Tony stared like, wait, you know Wally? Tripper just smiled and said, “Know him well.” Everyone went, OMG and Magda called me from the bar, and says we have someone here who wants to say hi! Tripper!!! Small world, and Tripper loved those moments. As an aside, Tripp worked on Block Island as a teen before he shipped to Vietnam. He was a proud Rhode Islander.

There’s a piece of Mike’s life that some of you will remember from the papers: a powerful photo taken in May 1967 of an exhausted Marine sitting in a church in An Hoa during a heavy mortar attack. For decades that image ran without a name attached. Mike lived with that memory and didn’t talk about it much, but later in life he was identified as the Marine in that photograph. It’s a small, strange slice of history, a wartime moment turned symbol, and Mike carried it with the same quiet dignity he carried everything else.

If you knew Mike, you know what I mean when I say he showed up to the Corps, to friends, to family, to the dock, to his POPASMOKE Brothers. He showed up and he made it better. That’s the measure of a Marine and a man.

Big hugs to Ella and the family, and to everyone who loved him. If you’ve got a memory, a photo, or a story of Mike, please share it in the comments.

Semper Fi, Tripper. Thank you for the memories and for your service. You honored the Corps and your friends. You were one of a kind. Ella and the kids, and all of us, will carry you in our hearts.

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