The Legacy of Heath Nicely

I vividly recall sitting at the kitchen table with my dad, eating sunny-side-up eggs and fried bologna while everyone else slept. It was in those wee hours of dawn he chose to share his dad’s —and my grandfather’s— stories regarding Pawpaw’s time in World War 2.   

Now in my adulthood, I still think about those old war stories and how my family described Pawpaw’s behavior when he came home. I have aways believed he had Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) before the world had a name for it.  

It got me thinking how much I wished things were different for Pawpaw. He fought at the tender age of 17 —he lied about his age so he could fight to protect his country— then came home with sights floating around in his head he couldn’t get rid of. How unfortunate there is no system in place to help our veterans more once they leave the military and come home.

There are prisoners who have the luxury of a “Halfway House” which prepares them to reintegrate themselves back into society after being institutionalized for a long period of time. We recognize this need for those who have made mistakes but fail to provide the same opportunity for those who sacrificed everything to protect us.

I had the privilege last week of meeting an incredible couple named Clay and Billee Nicely who sat down to tell me about their son, Clayton Heath Nicely— Clayton went by Heath.

Heath Nicely was born on March 18, 1995, and he had a lot in common with my Pawpaw. Not only did Heath love his country, but he dreamed of being in the military all his life. According to his father, Clay, Heath plastered his walls with posters of the Marines when he was young.

His parents described him as always having a tenacious, determined spirit. As a boy, he was gifted a bicycle he was committed to riding without the assistance of training wheels. “You’d see him going up the driveway, pushing that bicycle back and forth. My mom and dad, they just got a kick out of that. They were like, ‘My gracious! When is he going to learn to ride?’” Clay Nicely smiled at the memory. “I never will forget, I was working at Dupont back in those days —driving back and forth— and I pulled up in the driveway, looked up, and there he was riding that bicycle.”

Heath carried that fierce determination all his life and placed it in everything he did. From teaching himself to ride his bike (without training wheels) to playing football all through little league and high school, Heath was always fixed on the task in front of him. The Nicely’s talked about the time Heath broke his wrist but still attended every last one of his football games. He was unable to play, but he still did whatever he could; he just did it one-handed, fetching towels, water bottles, and being a constant presence on the sidelines.

After graduating from AHS in 2014, Heath went on to get married and fulfill his dream of being a military man, joining the Army in 2015. Clay stated, “His first year in the Army was tough. He had a girl, he got married, like so many young men do… I mean, he called me up I don’t know how many times, just crying and asking, ‘Please help me!’… I actually got her out there in Germany, paid for her ticket to fly out there, she was living off base. It was pretty sad because the Army actually told her that she had to leave.” The departure of his wife took its toll on Heath who was already struggling with being separated from his family.

Following his first year, Heath went on several deployments. He spent 6 months in Poland, 3 months in Lithuania, and several other months where his family had no idea where he was. Holidays would come and Heath —seemingly— was his old self.

During one visit home for Christmas, he dressed up like Santa for his nieces and nephews. “He weighed about 150 pounds,” Clay laughed. Billee added, “He would come in, ‘ho ho ho.’ Like, ‘Man! Santa Claus, you’re sick! You lost a lot of weight!… ‘You’re supposed to put a pillow or something in there.’ ‘Oh, it’s all good. I couldn’t get it in there.’” Billee giggled as she recalled her conversation with the skinny Santa.

The time then came for Heath to leave home again and it must have been difficult, given how much he loved his family. While he was away during his 4 years of service, Billee sent Heath and his unit (whom she affectionally called her kids) care packages every 2 months to remind them of home: her way of taking care of them from afar.

After Heath left the Army and began his career at Social Services, his family started to worry about him. “There were some things that I know that went on that bothered him all the way through because you could just see it… Sometimes he would just sit there and kinda have his head down and you just knew something was eating at him really really bad.” Clay said. “… But there was no decompression, no reentrance into society.”

Despite whatever trauma he experienced, Heath was determined to serve others. Between his work at Social Services, the times he went up to strangers to brighten their day or hand them money out of his own pocket, or when he spent hours on his laptop live-streaming and talking others through their traumas, he was dedicated to being their beacon. Being their light was how Heath dealt with his own darkness, always believing that just because he couldn’t help himself, it didn’t mean he couldn’t help others. That is the epitome of who Heath was and what his legacy will forever be.

Clayton Heath Nicely gave his life to God in September of 2022, and was later baptized that same year. Sadly, he went home to the Lord on January 16, 2023. “A light that was too bright for this world,” his mother stated. I would have to agree.

After his passing, the Social Services department followed through on an idea Heath had during his employment: a food pantry which would be open 5 days a week. According to his mother, Billee Nicely, Heath wanted people to have access to food all throughout the week, as he believed some people needed a food pantry to be open more than just 1 or 2 days a week. It has since been erected at Social Services and appropriately named, “The Clayton Heath Nicely Memorial Food Pantry.”

When I began this journey to discover the legacy of Heath Nicely, I had no idea I would learn so much about the kindness of the human spirit. His parents, Clay and Billee Nicely, are two of the nicest people I have ever met. It’s no wonder they raised such an incredible person in Heath and all their children, most of whom I’ve already met.

In the real world, meeting new people can be awkward. However, none of my encounters with the Nicely’s were ever uncomfortable. In my world —and the Nicely’s— there’s a different set of rules. When you come from a military family, meeting another one is like being reunited with relatives you didn’t know you had. We are all connected by the same strand of DNA which causes us to bleed red, white, and blue. There is just an immediate sense of family.

As a young girl in my own military family, I learned of the unidentified trauma my Pawpaw endured in the 40’s and the lack of knowledge and resources to help him back into society. But, when you’re growing up, you always believe things will get better in the future. Whatever problems you’re facing today, there’s going to be an answer to it later. Yet here we are in 2023, 80 years after my Pawpaw fought in World War II, and there is still no plan in place to reintegrate our veterans back into society. That’s unacceptable.   

Perhaps this article raises awareness for those who never had a loved one in the military. Perhaps it will speak volumes to the powers-that-be to implement a system where these veterans can return home from deployment and find success and added assistance for the mental health issues some will struggle with every day. Either way, Heath’s work continues from the Heavens, and he proves that not even death could stop him.

Although there is currently not a system in place to help struggling veterans reintegrate into society, there are other resources available, plenty of people who want to listen to your story and help you through it. If you are a struggling veteran, please call the Veterans Crisis Line by dialing 988 and pressing 1, or text 838255, or go to veterancrisisline.net to chat online.

This article is dedicated to the memory of Clayton Heath Nicely. March 18, 1995-January 16, 2023.