Yesterday I spent my day off walking around DC and visiting the various memorials to our fallen soldiers. I have posted some photos of the day on my Facebook page but I wanted to share a story here of an event that spoke volumes to me of how time changes things.
My last stop of the day was to be the Viet Nam Wall to take some snapshots of names of men from Coahoma County/Clarksdale, MS natives who gave their all in Viet Nam. As I approached the wall, I began to see me approaching the twilight of their lives; some walking with canes, some in wheelchairs and on oxygen, some standing ramrod straight and tall, but all looking worn and tired. The closer I got to the Wall, the more my emotions began to get the better of me as I was overhearing remembrances of men, now old, recalling a time when they were soldiers once, and young. I made my way to the book of names of the 58,000 plus who gave their all and began to look for three men in partucular; Henry Cauthen, Grady Muse and Pat Ross. The tears were already rolling down my cheeks as I found the panels and lines where their names would soon stare out at me from the black granite upon which they had been carved.
I took the photos and began to make my way back to the shade when I saw something that would forever be seared into my heart and mind. As background, a friend of mine from Baton Rouge served in the Marines in the late 60's and early 70's and I had posted a note on his Facebook page thanking him for his service. He responded to me that the reception that the troops received back in the 70's was somewhat less than gracious. That thought was in my mind as I observed the following event. A young man and his two boys were making their way quietly among the throng of veterans there at the Wall. The man looked to be in his late 30's and maybe was in his early 40's and his boys looked to be about 10 and 12 years old. Each of those boys went up to veterans and said the following words; "thank you for your service to our country". They looked the vets in the eyes and reached out and shook hands with these men. The reaction was varied; some patted the boys on the back and said "thank you", some quietly nodded their heads probably overcome with the same emotion as I, and some shed tears. I was a wreck and had to go off by myself for a time of composure.
This morning as I write this, I am thinking of the father of those two boys and I wonder was his dad a Viet Nam soldier who didn't come home, or was he one of those who did come home and forever carried the remembrance of the days when he came home to the derisive words hurled the way of may of our men and women who served in Southeast Asia. Whatever his motivation, the action of this father and his sons gesture made Veterans' Day 2010 a date which I will not soon forget.
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