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First time I saw Dad cry was at Harvey’s Funeral. Dad is a Marine he was in Pearl Harbor in 1944 at the end of the war, a young MP. A sensitve tough guy. He passed in 2001 jus before 9-11 when I lost my career. I turn 18 in 1971 , 5 years after Harveys funeral and Dad took me aside and told me he would get me out of the country as the “last” draft came up. Talk of Canada. I drew a draw number of 312 so I went on to screw around in college and extend a great childhood. I revere their memories and others and every day like this sadness washes over me.First time I saw my Dad cry was at the opening of the memorial in Sacramento. I remember him finding the names of too many friends. He was not alone in his grief. The day left lasting memories.
Yes! Every veteran I know (and non veterans) who has seen it in person, or the traveling replica, has told me they were deeply moved by it.I first read about the VN memorial wall in National Geographic in the late 1980s I guess. My initial reaction was along the lines of, "A wall with names on it; what kind of memorial is that?" And then by the time I finished reading the article my vision blurred because my eyes teared up. Fast forward to 1993, I was in PA for work training and on the weekend decided to drive down to D.C. since I'd never been there. First went to the Smithsonian Natural History museum, and it is terrific. Then, for some unknown reason decided to go have a look at the VN memorial. I found the names of older brothers of two school mates who perished in Vietnam. I wasn't expecting to be emotionally affected by it. Boy, was I wrong. I sat on one of the benches pondering the enormity of the loss when a woman walked by and asked if I knew names on the wall. I could barely speak, but squeaked out a "Yes." She said that happens a lot. I just sat there for I don't remember how long . . . Putting up that memorial was one of the best things ever done in D.C.
