Just a few short months ago, Afghanistan was a forgotten war.

That was before a new presidential administration shifted America’s military might from the deserts of Iraq to the mountainous home of the Taliban and al-Qaida.

More boots on the ground inevitably meant more soldiers in harm’s way. On Tuesday morning, roadside bombs killed eight soldiers in Kandahar province, making October the deadliest month for the U.S. military in the eight-year war. One of the soldiers was Sgt. Issac Jackson, a 27-year-old infantryman from Lathrop and Plattsburg, who served in the Army as part of the 5th Stryker Brigade, 2nd Infantry Division of Fort Lewis, Wash.

President Barack Obama was in attendance Thursday morning when Issac’s family received his flag-draped coffin in the morning darkness at Dover Air Force Base in Delaware. It was the first time since military operations began in Afghanistan that a sitting president attended such a ceremony.

The last time the media turned its eye on Issac, he seemed an unlikely candidate to receive a presidential honor.

In the summer of 1995, the Clinton County School District took Issac and his family to federal court in an effort to remove him from the district. The News-Press ran six stories about the 13-year-old who reportedly threw a desk, threatened classmates and mooned a room full of students. A teacher even said she feared Issac would come to school one day with a gun.

In spite of all the negative testimony, the judge gave the troubled child a chance. Issac started seventh grade that fall in his hometown of Plattsburg with a personal teacher. Reporters forgot about the so-called problem child and moved on to other stories.

Now, allow another reporter — also a friend — to break a few rules of journalism and give an eyewitness account of how a misbehaving boy grew into an honorable man.

Issac made it through one more year in Plattsburg before his family opted for a change of scenery seven miles east in Lathrop. I still remember the apprehension I felt when Issac walked into the gym on his first day of eighth grade. How would this “bad kid” fit in? Would he try to fight one of my friends?

It took about five seconds for all the uneasy feelings to melt away. Issac walked straight over to my circle of friends, sat down and started talking like he’d known us for years.

Basketball brought us all together. Issac’s talent on the court made him an instant hit with the most popular guys (and girls) at Lathrop Junior High. Our star player, the son of a local pastor, even let Issac lead our pregame prayers.

Issac’s high school years were what one would expect from a rebellious kid. He wasn’t perfect, but made it to graduation without any major incident. One time he was kicked out of practice for calling our coach a “big baby” — not exactly the words of a future criminal, as lawyers tried to portray him years earlier. That’s about as bad as it got. He was normal, just like the rest of us.

Issac grew up fast when he joined the Army. The first time he came home, a group of friends drove to a bar in Plattsburg to celebrate his return. Issac had been a partier, and we hoped to give him a chance to cut loose. Instead, he stood at military attention and nursed a single drink the whole night. Our bad boy had become the voice of reason.

On the way home, I asked Issac about his future plans. He said he hoped to become an Army chaplain or perhaps a chaplain’s assistant. After the military, maybe he would become a youth pastor.

I only saw Issac two more times in the four years between that night and today. He married a girl from Lathrop, Kristen, and they had a son named Enoch. The couple expects a daughter in December. Issac won’t be there for his children, but he lived long enough to set an example they can follow. They can look to their father and see proof that any obstacle — even a federal court case — can be overcome.

Someday I’ll have children, and eventually they will face a situation where the whole world seems stacked against them. That’s when I’ll tell the story of Issac, who proved the whole world wrong and grew into a man I was proud to call my friend.

I’ll never know how many lives Issac could have touched. His life was a success story that ended too soon.

Clinton Thomas can be reached

at clintonthomas@npgco.com.