Travis Mills returns home
VASSAR, Mich. (AP) - Army Staff Sgt. Travis Mills had been a lot of places since losing his four limbs in Afghanistan. The one place he hadn't been was where people knew him best.
He finally returned to his Michigan hometown this week - six months after the explosion that cost him his arms and legs - to serve as the grand marshal of his old high school's homecoming parade.
"I didn't come to Vassar yet, because I wasn't ready for people to see me without my legs. ... Because in Vassar, everybody knows everybody," Mills said in an interview hours before the parade this week. "Great town, but I just wasn't comfortable with them seeing me in a wheelchair."
Mills is still undergoing rehabilitation at Walter Reed Medical Center in Washington, D.C.
But he's been able to get out and about. In the past few weeks alone, he took part in a 5K benefit walk in New York and celebrated his daughter's first birthday on the base at Fort Bragg, N.C.
His hometown has pulled for him from afar. Hair salons, American Legion posts and many others hosted fundraisers this spring and summer as the small, tight-knit community rallied around him.
Hundreds of people waving American flags jammed into Vassar's downtown to catch a glimpse of Mills at the parade Thursday evening.
Mills, his wife, Kelsey, and their 1-year-old daughter, Chloe, served as the grand marshals.
Mills stood tall in the back of a Jeep, smiling and waving his left prosthetic arm as people screamed his name. He occasionally yelled out the name of someone he recognized.
Mills barely suffered a scratch during his first two tours of Afghanistan, but during his third, on April 10, he placed a bag of ammunition down on an improvised explosive device.
The resulting blast tore through the athlete's muscular 6-foot-3 frame. Since then, he's undergone a grueling series of medical procedures and been pushed to the limits by medical professionals intent on seeing him pull through his rare injury.
A half a year since Mills' life was changed forever, it's difficult to find a tree, lamppost or telephone pole without a yellow or red, white and blue ribbon in this bucolic community of 2,700 that sits 90 miles north of Detroit.
A downtown bank proudly displays an electronic sign that welcomes Mills as a "hometown hero," as do dozens of other businesses.
"It was a lot to take in," Mills said of the signs of support he saw on the drive from the airport to his parents' home. "Now, I just have to make sure not to let everyone down."
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