the only jacksons i'll be mourning over...

The cause of Mr. Jackson's death was obvious to anyone who saw him.

Really, no autopsy was necessary.

It was cardiac arrest. Caused by a roadside bomb.

I'm not talking about Michael Jackson, the supposedly drug-addled entertainer whose death has dominated every waking moment these past few days.

Instead, as we head toward Independence Day, I found a few other Jacksons whose deaths didn't receive the attention they should have.

Let's start with Army Spec. Marlon P. Jackson, who was the first American soldier named Jackson to be killed in Iraq.

It was Nov 11, 2003 that Spec. Jackson's vehicle rolled over the detonator on an improvised explosive device, better known as an IED. Nobody called 911. It just blew up and ripped him apart.

CNN didn't break in. The Internet didn't report that a 25-year-old named Jackson was headed to a field hospital. Teary-eyed fans and supporters didn't deliver flowers to his boyhood home in New Jersey.

He just died while serving our country. A while later, his family found out.

It was a similar story for Jackson #2, less than a year later.

This Jackson was a military woman. The cause of Ms. Jackson's death was also obvious to anyone who saw her.

No autopsy needed.

Cardiac arrest.

Roadside bomb.

Army Pfc. Leslie D. Jackson was just an 18-year-old from Richmond, Virginia.

She died in Baghdad as the truck she was driving returning to the security of Camp Eagle. TMZ, the celebrity Web site, didn't rush an Internet bulletin about Pfc. Jackson's death and how she had loved to shop and do her nails, according to a friend.

She wasn't a superstar.

She was just another dead soldier.

"The Army is what she wanted. That's why there are no regrets," said her aunt, Pearl Roberts, in another interview that you never saw.

Next was Army Chief Warrant Officer Kyle E. Jackson. On Jan. 13, 2006, Chief Jackson was in a Warrior helicopter near Al Sukar, Iraq when the chopper came under small-arms fire.

This Jackson, 28, had no security entourage protecting him. And he couldn't dance his way past the enemy gunfire. Chief Jackson, from Sarasota, Florida, was killed.

There were no instant TV specials about his death or how he was a decorated Marine before moving over to the Army and how he had been awarded the Purple Heart. Magazine covers weren't changed at the last minute to accommodate a picture story with his grieving widow Betsy and two young children.

Then there was Staff Sgt. William S. Jackson II of Saginaw, Michigan. No autopsy needed on this Jackson, 29.

During combat operations at Ramadi, Iraq he was blown up by a roadside bomb. Even though "Jack," as he was known to friends, died on Veteran's Day, his demise warranted only cursory attention.

The story would have been remarkable. Lived an actual "white glove" kind of life. From a military family, he met his wife at a Wisconsin Bible college. After surviving a tour in Afghanistan, he volunteered for Iraq. And died there, leaving behind four children under age 6.

"Certainly Jack loved the Lord and loved his family. He loved his wife, and he loved his country. He was a wonderful man, and we'll dearly miss him" said his pastor.

Although there were no global memorials for Jack Jackson, he is buried at Arlington National Cemetery.

Finally, just last year, came the last Jackson who died in the line of duty. Army Spec. Dustin C. Jackson, 21, of Arlington, Texas was killed on March 12, 2008. His vehicle was hit by ricochet fire while driving in Tallil, Iraq. The only morphine this Jackson has available was the inject pen that soldiers carry into battle in case their buddy is wounded.

When the local newspaper did a brief write-up on Dustin Jackson he was remembered as a child who "once raced home to ask his mother to make a grilled-cheese sandwich so he could take it to a homeless woman he had seen. As an adolescent, he wanted to give a pair of his shoes to a homeless man."

When friends sent him off at a farewell party, Jackson said a desire to help other soldiers in Iraq overrode fear for his own life.

The ultimate irony for all of them, these Jackson Five of the Iraq war, is that they could have been the subjects of a recent song by their much more famous and celebrated namesake, Michael Jackson.

It's called "What More Can I Give." The lyrics begin: "How many people would have to die before we understand. How many children have to cry before we do all we can. What have I got that I can give?"

The Jackson Five I wrote about understood. They truly gave all they could.

• Chuck Goudie, whose column appears each Monday, is the chief investigative reporter at ABC 7 News in Chicago. The views in this column are his own and not those of WLS-TV. He can be reached by e-mail at chuckgoudie@gmail.com and followed at www.twitter.com/ChuckGoudie