On March 27, 2003, a week after President Bush began the Iraq War, Jesús Suárez, a 20-year-old Marine, went on reconnaissance patrol near Baghdad. He stepped on a cluster bomb and died, becoming one of the first casualties of our catastrophic occupation of Iraq.

The spring of 2003 was the heyday of “shock and awe.” The president had taken us to war on cooked-up claims of WMD and Iraqi ties to Al Qaeda. Until those false pretenses unraveled, the White House would bask in callow triumphalism. Mr. Bush would masquerade in his military flight suit while performing a campaign publicity stunt on the USS Abraham Lincoln. These were heady high-poll-number days of taunting insurgents with cheap bravado: “Bring ‘em on.”

Life itself was cheap. Civilian casualties were mounting, but no one in the Defense Department bothered to count them. “We don’t do body counts,” General Tommy Franks deadpanned.

Such callous folly was only the beginning. Three years later, the end is not yet in sight.

Back home in Escondido, California, on that March 27 of 2003, the reverberations of the “bomblet” that left Jesús with a fatal head wound, detonated on his family: his father Fernando, mother Rosa, wife Sayne, and 16-month-old infant son Erik were shocked and awed into a lifetime of grieving.

In the three years following his son’s death, Fernando Suárez del Solar has become an acclaimed peace activist. He has traveled to Iraq, the UN, Crawford, Texas and Congress. This month, Fernando and fellow activists -- inspired by Gandhi’s 1930 Salt March for Indian independence -- led a Latino Peace Pilgrimage through California.

The peacemakers began on the 76th anniversary of Gandhi’s journey. They marched from Tijuana, where Jesús was born, across the US-Mexico border -- the imaginary line in the sand between privilege and poverty, North and South. Just as a grain of salt provided a metaphor rich enough for Gandhi to rattle an empire, la frontera is a dynamic symbol of all our divisions: racial, ethnic, national and socioeconomic.

From the border, the peace pilgrimage continued to Jesús Suárez’s grave, the Military Career Center where he was recruited, and Camp Pendleton where he trained for war. It culminates today, the anniversary of Jesus’ death, in San Francisco, where the pilgrims will donate blood for both Iraqi civilians and US soldiers.

Among the marchers are Navy war resister Pablo Paredes; Iraq combat veteran and conscientious objector, Camilo Mejía; and Anabel Valencia, whose son and daughter served multiple tours in Iraq.

On March 21, activists here in Ventura County marched with Anabel, Pablo, Camilo and Fernando, from downtown Oxnard to the Government Center. Walking common ground gave us a sacred opportunity to contemplate our national tragedy: the wholesale slaughter of the innocent and the specific sacrifice of Jesús Suárez.

The loss of a child is a supremely painful event. Tens, perhaps hundreds of thousands of Iraqi parents attest to that pain, as do the parents of 2,320 fallen US soldiers. People like Fernando Suárez. People like you and me.

If we really pay attention to the courage and compassion of these peace pilgrims, the borders between us dissolve. Fernando and Rosa’s loss becomes our loss; we have all sent our sons to Iraq. And we all become their war orphan grandson, Erik. We too have lost our patrimony -- our birthright of peace, prosperity and justice.

Every dollar of the incalculable billions squandered on this obscene fiasco in Iraq is a mortal blow to our future, to our grandchildren -- a dollar less to spend on our real priorities: health, education, security and social welfare.

In preemptively annihilating phantom enemies, our nation has embarked on a nightmare march through a minefield of the spirit.

Our loss of spirit, as well as flesh and blood, is what we mourn on this third anniversary of the Iraq War and the death of Jesús Suárez.

May the horrors cease before the fourth anniversary. As we approach this Easter season, we must erase our borders of separation. We must end this war. It is time to resurrect human rights and wage peace on Earth.