LIBBY - A decade later and Jim May still can remember the quiet and well-behaved student who sat attentively through civics classes at Libby High School.

"I've been teaching government here for 20 years," May said, "and I can still remember the seat he sat in, right here in this room."

May remembers J.R. Stright the same way others at the school do - a respectful young man, earnest, straightforward, serious about his studies.

When James R. Stright came home one high school day, back in 1997, and announced he was joining the Army, Bob Stright was pleased with his son's decision. In fact, the retired master sergeant was "quite honored."

And he was still honored, perhaps more than ever, when he paused to remember his 29-year-old son on Monday.

J.R. Stright, now known as Army Staff Sgt. James R. Stright, died last Thursday night, the only fatality in a military training accident that injured a half-dozen others.

"He was a really good kid," said his stepmother, Jerilyn, and he grew into a "really good man."

"A damn fine soldier," his father said. "The elite of the elite."

Stright, a member of a special operations aviation unit, was part of a Black Hawk helicopter crew that crashed on a Navy ship off the Virginia coast. Navy officials told the Strights that service members were rappelling down a rope from the helicopter to the USNS Arctic when the helicopter crashed into the vessel.

Officials said the exercise was practice for soldiers to board, search and seize ships that might be under control of pirates or terrorists; the Arctic, they said, was chosen because it has features similar to merchant ships.

"His entire adult life was dedicated almost exclusively to the military," Jerilyn said. "He existed for it."

She remembered an awkward and shy child who grew into a confident but quiet teen there in Libby, a young man known for his humor and his smile. He didn't join in clubs or sports, but liked to get into the hills to hunt and fish, and worked for the family's cleaning business after school.

He was 6-foot-1, Jerilyn said, lean and muscular and handsome and everything you'd expect from an elite member of the "Nightstalkers" special ops.

All J.R. ever really wanted, his father said, was a little bit of adventure, a life that would take him around the world, a career that would make a quiet but profound difference. And that, Bob Stright said, is exactly what his son found. "He was driven to excellence."

His family knew J.R. was a helicopter mechanic and a crew chief, but beyond that they often didn't know what he was doing or where in the world he was doing it. He'd call his dad before dropping out for a couple months, then call again when he was back in the States.

"Until Saturday," Jerilyn said, "I didn't even know what he did."

They still don't know what he was doing, exactly, at 8 p.m. when the accident occurred, nor are they likely to learn much until the military's crash investigation is complete.

What they do know, however, is that J.R. Stright left behind a whole lot of family and friends who, Bob said, "will miss him terribly."

His phone's been ringing with calls from friends he never knew his son had. They also know that Stright left behind Lucia, his German shepherd, "his only child, his only woman," Jerilyn said. "He followed his Black Hawk wherever it was going in world, but Lucia was a very special constant in his life."

Military officials said the Arctic has returned to Naval Station Norfolk for inspection and repair, and the damaged helicopter remains aboard the ship. Stright was was assigned to Charlie Company, 3rd Battalion, 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment (Airborne), headquartered at Hunter Army Airfield, Ga., but until just a month ago he'd been stationed at Fort Campbell, Ky.

Members of his unit, from both stations, are expected to arrive soon in Libby for a full military funeral, the date of which has not yet been set.

The last time his son was home, Bob said, was Christmas 2007, "and we had a real good time. He'd walk into a room and within a minute everyone would be laughing. We're going to miss him."

Reporter Michael Jamison can be reached at 1-800-366-7186 or at mjamison@missoulian.com.