Port Orchard guardsman killed in Iraq

Samuel Stone could be a private person and didn't often share much about himself. But his generosity touched many lives.

"He wanted to take care of everyone he could," said his girlfriend, Toni Shimek, of San Bernardino, Calif. "And if he had to live off bread and water the rest of his life, that would be OK."

The Department of Defense announced Monday that Pfc. Stone, 20, a Washington National Guard soldier from Port Orchard, died May 30 in Tallil, Iraq, of injuries suffered in a non-combat-related vehicle rollover. The incident is under investigation.

The youngest of four children, Stone enjoyed reading science fiction, playing Dungeons & Dragons and spending time outdoors. He fished and hunted with his father, Stephen, in the Olympics, and named his dog Ayla after a character in Jean Auel's novel, "The Clan of the Cave Bear."

"He loved kids, especially his nephews and nieces," said his mother, Nancy Stone.

As a graduate of the Job Corps program at Wellpinit-Fort Semco High in White Swan, Yakima County, he knew military service could help pay for college.

"He wanted to go to school and be an architect," his mother said, holding back tears. "He wanted to fly helicopters ... . He was my baby."

Stone had been assigned to the 1st Squadron, 303rd Cavalry Regiment, a unit of the 81st Brigade Combat Team. He left for Iraq in October.

He was home not long ago, from the last week of April through the first week of May. He and his family and friends fired up the barbecue. Stone made some killer tacos. Then he visited his girlfriend in California, and took her to Disneyland. There was talk of his returning home in September.

Then, early Sunday, two men showed up at his family's door in Port Orchard. "A mother's worst nightmare," Nancy Stone said.

He'd shared with Shimek some of his fears about being in Iraq — fears he was reluctant to share with his family. "But he knew why he was there," she said. "There's no doubt in my mind that he was proud of what he did."

In the midst of his family's grief, there have been smiles as memories resurface of the kid they used to call "Dr. Sam," because he seemed to know everything.

"We were laughing at the fact that he's the first to make it up there," said his sister, Sarah Sorensen, of Seattle, "because now he's really gonna know everything, and he's never gonna let us forget."

Her brother, she said, was knowledgeable, opinionated and, even at the age of 4, a gifted storyteller. "He would tell some of the funniest stories. We would just sit around and listen."

And as he spun his stories, they'd marvel to themselves: Where do you come up with this stuff? You are older than your age, little boy.

"It just kind of makes you think," Sorensen said. "... You look back and say, it makes sense now why they seemed so special. Because you only had them for a short time."

Marc Ramirez: 206-464-8102 or mramirez@seattletimes.com