Right up until her grandson Brian died, and even today, Jean Ritzberg says she has trouble thinking of him as an adult.

“My baby,” she says, smiling. “That’s what I always called him.”

She raised him from the time he was young, and admits she couldn’t help but to spoil him. He was, after all, her only grandchild.

Ritzberg shakes her head and smiles when she thinks about her grandson’s stubbornness and the way he refused to listen to all of the family members who tried to talk him out of joining the Army Reserve in 2005.

“No one wanted him to go,” says Ritzberg. “We talked ‘til we were blue in the face but he would not listen.”

Brian Ritzberg, Jr., 24, was killed on April 2, 2007 while serving with the 977th Military Police Company, 1st Infantry Division in Kirkuk, Iraq. On April 14, 2007 he was buried in Powhatan. Among his honors were a purple heart and a bronze star.

Brian is buried just a few miles away from Ritzberg’s home, in the cemetery at Mount Pero Baptist Church. She visits the site every time she goes to church, and often during the week just to say hello.

Though Brian was raised in New York, Jean Ritzberg says having him buried in Powhatan was the only thing that made sense to her.

“I wanted him here, with me,” says Ritzberg, who was raised in Powhatan and returned after retiring in 2007. She says she also wanted her grandson to be buried with his relatives. “This way he’s with family,” she says. “It’s like he’s home.”

Brian left behind a large and loving family, including his wife, Clara, whom he met in the reserves.

Clara and Brian had been married two years when he was killed, and the couple would have celebrated their third anniversary last Monday.

Clara, who was discharged after Brian’s death but has since been called back to active duty, says she supported the decision to have her husband buried here.

Jean Ritzberg says the family has received a tremendous amount of support from the community both in Long Island City, NY, where Brian grew up, and in Powhatan.  Still, it’s been a difficult year. She cries every day, Ritzberg says, usually when she thinks about all of the things her grandson is missing.

His dream had been to become a police officer after he left the service, and he had begun to talk about starting a family.

She says her grandson was a free spirit, a playful young man who loved cars and the camaraderie he shared with his fellow soldiers.

“He enjoyed life,” she says. “He always wanted to do so many things and I would say ‘Brian wait’ but I’m so happy he lived the way he did. He put a lot in his 24 years.”