I went to the Wall yesterday...
I went to the Moving Wall memorial twice yesterday. The first time was around Noon. I slowly walked the length of the wall and examined the many items left by visitors. There was a last beer, cigarettes, crucifixes, flowers and notes protected by plastic bags.
I could not help the feeling of loss as my eyes swelled and the paths of tears lined my cheeks. Some how one knows this is a safe place to let the feelings go where they may; and go they went.
I was particularly moved by a short message in a plastic bag held down from the wind by a small bouquet of flowers. The message simply said "Thank you for my freedom". It was signed with a feminine name. I began to ponder who wrote the message. Was it a mother, wife or daughter of a fallen warrior? Or was it an anonymous letter to all those who gave their lives so that we could be free?
As I stood there, my emotions became distorted and confused. They went from the feeling of loss of fallen comrades to loss of our freedom that they gave their lives for.
My emotional state evolved from loss to anger as I thought that there is a chance that these fifty eight thousand plus names, and the over one million others throughout the history of this nation who lost their lives to preserve our freedom could all be lost in vain. The liberty they died for we are giving away without a second, logical thought
It is easy to read and hear statistics of casualties of war and not think much about them emotionally. After all most everything we read is black ink on white paper. There is something more contrasting, urgent and startling when you walk along a Wall of white names etched in bleak, black marble. One cannot helped be overwhelmed.
I returned a short while later after relating my experience to my wife and children. What prompted my return was a question asked by my eleven year old daughter. She innocently asked "What is Vietnam?" I knew that mere words could not answer this question when such a moving memorial was in town. I took her, along with her two younger brothers to the memorial.
I explained the Avenue of Flags as we slowly strolled between the two rows of dozens of Old Glorys as they unfurled in the swirling breeze. We slowly made our way around the solemn grounds, stopping to view the tank, personnel carrier and bunker on display. Then came the Wall. As we slowly walked the length of the Wall we talked about war and freedom. Just the day before my five year old made the statement to his mother that grownups don't cry. His illusion was smashed as the feelings once again returned to his father. I had to explain to him, in much smaller words about what the whole experience meant to me.
I have taken my children to Tyranny Response Team rallies and protests and they went along, not quite knowing why or what we doing yelling in the streets. They now know why!
I also had the opportunity to talk with some of the many Vets who volunteer their time to make the experience of the Moving Wall possible. I handed some of them the TRT flyer geared toward veterans. They understood the message unequivocably.
They will not be forgotten!
Yours in Liberty,
Tom Buchanan
I went to the Moving Wall memorial twice yesterday. The first time was around Noon. I slowly walked the length of the wall and examined the many items left by visitors. There was a last beer, cigarettes, crucifixes, flowers and notes protected by plastic bags.
I could not help the feeling of loss as my eyes swelled and the paths of tears lined my cheeks. Some how one knows this is a safe place to let the feelings go where they may; and go they went.
I was particularly moved by a short message in a plastic bag held down from the wind by a small bouquet of flowers. The message simply said "Thank you for my freedom". It was signed with a feminine name. I began to ponder who wrote the message. Was it a mother, wife or daughter of a fallen warrior? Or was it an anonymous letter to all those who gave their lives so that we could be free?
As I stood there, my emotions became distorted and confused. They went from the feeling of loss of fallen comrades to loss of our freedom that they gave their lives for.
My emotional state evolved from loss to anger as I thought that there is a chance that these fifty eight thousand plus names, and the over one million others throughout the history of this nation who lost their lives to preserve our freedom could all be lost in vain. The liberty they died for we are giving away without a second, logical thought
It is easy to read and hear statistics of casualties of war and not think much about them emotionally. After all most everything we read is black ink on white paper. There is something more contrasting, urgent and startling when you walk along a Wall of white names etched in bleak, black marble. One cannot helped be overwhelmed.
I returned a short while later after relating my experience to my wife and children. What prompted my return was a question asked by my eleven year old daughter. She innocently asked "What is Vietnam?" I knew that mere words could not answer this question when such a moving memorial was in town. I took her, along with her two younger brothers to the memorial.
I explained the Avenue of Flags as we slowly strolled between the two rows of dozens of Old Glorys as they unfurled in the swirling breeze. We slowly made our way around the solemn grounds, stopping to view the tank, personnel carrier and bunker on display. Then came the Wall. As we slowly walked the length of the Wall we talked about war and freedom. Just the day before my five year old made the statement to his mother that grownups don't cry. His illusion was smashed as the feelings once again returned to his father. I had to explain to him, in much smaller words about what the whole experience meant to me.
I have taken my children to Tyranny Response Team rallies and protests and they went along, not quite knowing why or what we doing yelling in the streets. They now know why!
I also had the opportunity to talk with some of the many Vets who volunteer their time to make the experience of the Moving Wall possible. I handed some of them the TRT flyer geared toward veterans. They understood the message unequivocably.
They will not be forgotten!
Yours in Liberty,
Tom Buchanan