Why did he die?
By JULIE BIRKEDAL,
The Globe Gazette (Mason City, Iowa)
Original link:
Did a former member of North Iowa's 1133rd Transportation Co. die as a result of an experimental anthrax vaccine?
"The only thing I ever wanted is to find out what happened to my son," says Scott Siefken's mother, Ardie Siefken of Waverly. "Why did he die? "Because of Gary Matsumoto's book, "Vaccine A," which alleges a new anthrax vaccine has harmful effects on service personnel, Ardie said she now believes she knows.
The book was published in 2004 by Basic Books of New York City. Scott Siefken, who was in the Gulf War during the winter of 1990-91, suffered from hot and cold spells when he came back from the Middle East in the spring of 1991. He developed sores in his mouth and a severe rash that would not respond to treatment. Scott died Oct. 5, 1994. He was 37. A maintenance worker for the Iowa Department of Transportation, Scott, who lived in Manly, worked until just before entering the hospital for the last time even though he had to put his boots on before getting out of bed or his feet would be too swollen, his mother said. "Vaccine A" is a book "the U.S. Department of Defense does not want you to read," Matsumoto says in its introduction. A portion of the book tells Scott Siefken's story. "He was very truthful," said Ardie of Matsumoto. The author talked with Ardie and with her daughter, Cristie Sanford, who lives in New Mexico, about a year ago.
Scott's widow, Lydia, who now lives in Nashua, did not return phone calls when contacted for this story. "I have heard from so many people who read the book. I really truly feel that he's onto something," Ardie said. The government has involved people in experiments that impacted their health without their knowledge before, she said. Scott had many inoculations at Fort McCoy, Wis., his mother said, adding that she now believes he was one of the soldiers who must have received an experimental anthrax vaccine. "We've never been able to get his records of his immunizations. They tell us that they're lost or can't be found or the wrong person is asking for them," she said. Siefken's mother said the family began trying to get those records within a year of Scott's death. "If only the government would just be honest with us, tell me what happened. I can accept that," Ardie said. "I would like to be told the truth. They owe us that.
"The constant news of the current war in Iraq keeps her son's suffering fresh in Ardie's mind and reminds her and Scott's widow, Lydia, of the sacrifices being made daily by other families. "When you hear that 20 or so have been killed over there it's just like somebody stabbed you in the heart because you know exactly what those families are going through, today, tomorrow and forever," Ardie said.
Ardie makes a point of collecting information to share with her grandchildren whenever she can. She bought copies of "Vaccine A" for each of Scott's children. The oldest one has his copy and the younger two will be able to have their copies when they're older, she said. "I think anger and betrayal were my reactions, but I just couldn't go on," said Cristie Sanford, Scott's sister, who said she read several chapters of the book but couldn't finish it. Scott's youngest son, Ryan, was born two weeks after Scott died. He "looks like Scott and acts like Scott in every way," his grandmother said, and has asked repeatedly, "What happened to Daddy?
"When she has bad days, Ardie sometimes goes to the cemetery and talks to Scott. His grave is under a maple tree where wren houses hang in the summer. An image of a sailing clipper ship that he loved and the daisies and roses that were his bride's wedding flowers are etched on the marker. "There are no words to tell you what an impact" his illness and death had, said his mother. Scott's sister, Josie Siefken of Boone, said she found the book credible and even-handed. The author seemed to have "appropriate background credentials" and "to have done his homework," she said.
After serving four years in the Navy after high school, Scott joined the National Guard because he was "a compassionate person," his mother said. At that time, the National Guard helped in times of tornados and floods. He willingly went to the Gulf. "He believed he had a job to do and was willing to do it, his mother said. She has doubts, however, about the war in Iraq. "I feel this war is based on untruth and I don't like that," Ardie said. "We're losing too many precious young people."
At one time, Ardie had an Internet newsletter for families of Gulf War veterans. She has heard a lot of family stories with common threads. That newsletter arose from the pain she felt as the mother of a serviceman who suffered from Gulf War illness. "His father (Rollie) died on the fifth anniversary of Scott's death," Ardie said. He had remarked the day before that he didn't know why the year had been so tough, that some of the grief should have been behind them, but it wasn't.
When Scott died, he left behind his wife, Lydia; his children, Trent, now 21, Wellsburg; Justin, now 14, and Ryan, now 10, both of Nashua; his parents and five sisters.
The Globe Gazette (Mason City, Iowa)
Original link:
Did a former member of North Iowa's 1133rd Transportation Co. die as a result of an experimental anthrax vaccine?
"The only thing I ever wanted is to find out what happened to my son," says Scott Siefken's mother, Ardie Siefken of Waverly. "Why did he die? "Because of Gary Matsumoto's book, "Vaccine A," which alleges a new anthrax vaccine has harmful effects on service personnel, Ardie said she now believes she knows.
The book was published in 2004 by Basic Books of New York City. Scott Siefken, who was in the Gulf War during the winter of 1990-91, suffered from hot and cold spells when he came back from the Middle East in the spring of 1991. He developed sores in his mouth and a severe rash that would not respond to treatment. Scott died Oct. 5, 1994. He was 37. A maintenance worker for the Iowa Department of Transportation, Scott, who lived in Manly, worked until just before entering the hospital for the last time even though he had to put his boots on before getting out of bed or his feet would be too swollen, his mother said. "Vaccine A" is a book "the U.S. Department of Defense does not want you to read," Matsumoto says in its introduction. A portion of the book tells Scott Siefken's story. "He was very truthful," said Ardie of Matsumoto. The author talked with Ardie and with her daughter, Cristie Sanford, who lives in New Mexico, about a year ago.
Scott's widow, Lydia, who now lives in Nashua, did not return phone calls when contacted for this story. "I have heard from so many people who read the book. I really truly feel that he's onto something," Ardie said. The government has involved people in experiments that impacted their health without their knowledge before, she said. Scott had many inoculations at Fort McCoy, Wis., his mother said, adding that she now believes he was one of the soldiers who must have received an experimental anthrax vaccine. "We've never been able to get his records of his immunizations. They tell us that they're lost or can't be found or the wrong person is asking for them," she said. Siefken's mother said the family began trying to get those records within a year of Scott's death. "If only the government would just be honest with us, tell me what happened. I can accept that," Ardie said. "I would like to be told the truth. They owe us that.
"The constant news of the current war in Iraq keeps her son's suffering fresh in Ardie's mind and reminds her and Scott's widow, Lydia, of the sacrifices being made daily by other families. "When you hear that 20 or so have been killed over there it's just like somebody stabbed you in the heart because you know exactly what those families are going through, today, tomorrow and forever," Ardie said.
Ardie makes a point of collecting information to share with her grandchildren whenever she can. She bought copies of "Vaccine A" for each of Scott's children. The oldest one has his copy and the younger two will be able to have their copies when they're older, she said. "I think anger and betrayal were my reactions, but I just couldn't go on," said Cristie Sanford, Scott's sister, who said she read several chapters of the book but couldn't finish it. Scott's youngest son, Ryan, was born two weeks after Scott died. He "looks like Scott and acts like Scott in every way," his grandmother said, and has asked repeatedly, "What happened to Daddy?
"When she has bad days, Ardie sometimes goes to the cemetery and talks to Scott. His grave is under a maple tree where wren houses hang in the summer. An image of a sailing clipper ship that he loved and the daisies and roses that were his bride's wedding flowers are etched on the marker. "There are no words to tell you what an impact" his illness and death had, said his mother. Scott's sister, Josie Siefken of Boone, said she found the book credible and even-handed. The author seemed to have "appropriate background credentials" and "to have done his homework," she said.
After serving four years in the Navy after high school, Scott joined the National Guard because he was "a compassionate person," his mother said. At that time, the National Guard helped in times of tornados and floods. He willingly went to the Gulf. "He believed he had a job to do and was willing to do it, his mother said. She has doubts, however, about the war in Iraq. "I feel this war is based on untruth and I don't like that," Ardie said. "We're losing too many precious young people."
At one time, Ardie had an Internet newsletter for families of Gulf War veterans. She has heard a lot of family stories with common threads. That newsletter arose from the pain she felt as the mother of a serviceman who suffered from Gulf War illness. "His father (Rollie) died on the fifth anniversary of Scott's death," Ardie said. He had remarked the day before that he didn't know why the year had been so tough, that some of the grief should have been behind them, but it wasn't.
When Scott died, he left behind his wife, Lydia; his children, Trent, now 21, Wellsburg; Justin, now 14, and Ryan, now 10, both of Nashua; his parents and five sisters.
