A decade later, State College veteran Adam Hartswick reflects on recovery and lost friends

Sitting in the sunny corner of his kitchen on Thursday, Adam Hartswick has a wide smile and easy laugh as he talks about his German shepherd, Arlo, and the stray cats he and his wife Sara adopted last year. But he can’t help thinking of the anniversary that’s approaching, with Sunday marking 10 years since he was fighting for his life and his fellow soldiers’ lives in the remote province of Kandahar, Afghanistan.

Hartswick, an Army medic, was responding to an ambushed patrol on May 14, 2013 when an IED detonated. The attack killed four of Hartswick’s fellow soldiers and caused him to lose both his legs, his right index finger, the tip of his thumb and a chunk out of his right wrist.

Now, Hartswick’s “alive day” — what some survivors of traumatic events call the day of their near-fatal injuries — will become a local day of remembrance. At the Ferguson Township Board of Supervisors meeting on Monday, supervisors plan to read a proclamation instating May 14 as a local day to honor Hartswick and other veterans for their service. Supervisor Laura Dininni said she was inspired by conversations with Hartswick’s mother, Morgen Hummel, in pushing for May 14 to be officially recognized.

The proclamation will also include the four fallen soldiers who died on May 14: Sergeant First Class Jeffrey Baker, Specialist Mitchell Daehling, Specialist William Gilbert and Specialist Cody Towse.

“Hopefully that May 14, my alive day, being celebrated by everybody brings to mind everybody else who has suffered the way I have, sacrificed like I have, especially in our community,” Hartswick said. “I think there’s a lot of people that just go silently and oftentimes, they’re only remembered on Veterans Day, if then.”

In the years since the blast, both Adam and Sara said they’re constantly overwhelmed by the community’s generosity. A portion of state Route 45 was named in his honor in 2014. Five years later, the Stephen Siller Tunnel to Towers Foundation built Hartswick a custom smart home in Spring Mills that he and Sara have filled with pets, including Arlo, five cats, several hermit crabs and one territorial bunny named Daisy.

“I’m always blown away by the generosity of so many people in the community,” said Hartswick, who is a 2009 graduate of State College Area High School. “It’s something I’ll be eternally grateful for and like every time I say this, but it’s always just too much ... there’s a lot of bad in the world, but I think Centre County really does shine a light in the darkness.”

‘Our sacred duty to continue’

For the past decade, Hartswick has been trying to pay that generosity forward, mentoring other amputees and sharing his story so others can learn about surviving traumatic situations. The 32-year-old works as a training consultant for Techline Technologies, educating others on how effective trauma medicine can be, especially tourniquets, which slowed his bleeding and saved Hartswick’s life after the blast in Afghanistan. Through his work, the story of May 14 has spread across the country, appearing in National Geographic’s TV show “My Fighting Season,” which showcases the combat stories of U.S. soldiers.

”Just like seeing all of the things that people have done for him, it’s just really awesome that people care and want to do these things for him, you know, commemorate him,” Sara Hartswick said.

Although Hartswick doesn’t always see himself as a hero, he feels it’s part of his duty to use his platform to tell the stories of those who cannot.

“When you are a witness to true heroism like those four guys displayed, you’re the designated survivor, you’re the designated storyteller in a sense,” he said, staring down at his forearm, where the names of the men he lost are tattooed. “There’s other survivors too, and they tell the story as well. But I think for anybody that witnessed those four men that day, it is our sacred duty to continue.”

Hartswick has told his own story a number of times but hasn’t often shared his personal experiences with the four soldiers who died. He remembers Baker smoking out of his old-fashioned pipe and always calling everyone by their first name, despite being several ranks higher than Hartswick. Baker was a Explosive Ordnance Disposal Technician and a legend in the company, Hartswick said.

Hartswick often spent hours in the open-air gym with Daehling, one of the most impressive and professional soldiers in Hartswick’s company. He remembered a time in the medical tent hearing Gilbert’s excitement about becoming a father, an event he would never see. His daughter was born a week after Gilbert died.

Of all the soldiers Hartswick mourns, Cody Towse is the loss he felt the closest. Towse, a medic serving under Hartwick, always had a big grin and pockets full of Jolly Rancher candies.

“He had the nickname ‘Candy Doc,’” Hartswick said. “Everybody called him Candy Doc because he carried just bags of candy. And during the foot patrols, just gangs of kids, swaths of kids would flock to him because they knew he had it.”

Although the grief never subsides, it does ebb and flow. Some days are easier than others and he’s still recovering both mentally and physically from the event. Part of that recovery has been staying in touch with the families of his fallen brothers in arms and connecting with other soldiers, including those who handled the recovery and mortuary affairs of the other soldiers.

“There’s been dozens of, if not hundreds of people directly and indirectly affected by this, this attack,” Hartswick said. “And we’re all still recovering in a sense, and truly I don’t think you’ll ever get over it. And you don’t need to but we do need to turn this into something positive. Most of my brothers that are alive still feel the same way, like it’s our duty to tell this story.”