Honorer of war dead in search of hope

The first time Madrigal Alexander saw the bagpiper, he knew nothing about him, but he had a hunch that they shared a common passion. Alexander, a Marine corporal and military liaison to the city of Santa Ana, had come to a Memorial Day service in Westminster to play the flute during the proceedings. Across the cemetery, in a shadow between two trees, he saw another musician wearing regalia ? in this case, a jacket and a kilt.

The man porting the bagpipes was Jason Bond, a Costa Mesa resident who had played at weddings, funerals and military events for nearly 20 years. Alexander struck up a friendship with him, and the two began playing together at ceremonies. Then, earlier this year, Alexander called Bond to invite him to a vigil for two casualties in Iraq.

The response nearly brought him to tears.

Bond, an Australian immigrant who has lived in America since 1982, had been diagnosed with esophageal cancer. His bagpipes have been silent since he painfully played “Amazing Grace” at a park on Memorial Day. Now, as he prepares to enter chemotherapy, Alexander and others in the community are joining together to get him the best treatment possible.

“It just broke my heart,” Alexander said. “Someone who has worked with me to honor the fallen is now someone that I might need to honor as well.”

As a child in Australia, Bond learned to play the bagpipes in the Cadet Battalion ? an officers’ training program for youths ? and he took up the instrument again after moving to the United States. Over the last two decades, he has become a staple of military ceremonies and Fourth of July parades, played the bagpipes in movies, and even led the world’s longest Rolls-Royce parade in Newport Beach in 1997.

A devotee of British cultures, he served as pipe major for the San Clemente Scots Pipe Band and co-founded a Celtic music group. In 2002, he led the funeral procession for Samantha Runnion, the 5-year-old Stanton girl whose murder made national headlines. Every Memorial Day for nearly a decade, he played at Westminster Memorial Park in honor of fallen veterans.

Now, after 58 years in which he never seemed to stop moving, Bond can barely muster the strength to walk around his own home.

His bagpipes sit in a carrying case in the garage, retired since the last Memorial Day show. His gaunt face and body bear little resemblance to the robust figure pictured on his website. When he needs to retrieve something, he sends his de facto personal assistant ? Greg Kowalik, a close friend and former television producer who currently stays in Bond’s apartment ? to fetch it for him.

“I don’t have much energy to do anything,” he said. “I just try to stay on top of my business affairs and bills. I read a little bit. I watch TV. It’s a struggle for me to go from one place to another. You’re talking to someone who used to be able to run two miles a day and still have excess energy.”

Right now, others are contributing the excess energy for him. Jana Murphy, a member of Bond’s Celtic band, rallied the local Irish community for a fundraiser in Dana Point in May. The event, featuring a raffle and silent auction, netted about $4,000. The Irish Import Shop in Los Angeles is planning a similar fundraiser in August.

In Bond’s own backyard, it’s largely the military community that’s lending a hand. Rita Armendariz, a case worker at Hoag Memorial Hospital Presbyterian ? and founder of Madres Militares, a support group for military mothers ? did Bond’s medical paperwork and connected him with doctors when she learned that he didn’t have one. Her friends, along with Madrigal’s, have collected toiletries and other basic needs.

Armendariz said it was tough, at least initially, to offer aid to a man who had prided himself for so long on being a go-getter.

“He was kind of ashamed about the stuff that was happening to him at first, and not being able to attend to himself and take care of his own business,” she said. “When I explained to him that this is what we do, he was more receptive.”

More than anything, Madrigal said, Bond’s friends want to raise enough money to pay his rent, so that he can stay in Costa Mesa and get treatment at Hoag. Another local agency has also offered a needed service: Santa Ana Rep. Loretta Sanchez’s office recently contacted Bond, whose green card had expired, to help him renew his American citizenship.

In the meantime, Bond has assumed the roles that he’s watched so many others play: the beloved veteran in need, the patriot mourned and guarded by others who share his values. On some level, even as he holds out hope that he can play his bagpipes again, he’s aware that it makes sense.

“Madrigal and I share that passion,” he said. “We don’t think anyone should be forgotten.”