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memorial day 1999.
the whole weekend spent with a Vietnam vet, listening to him open up about what he'd seen, the friends he'd lost, the pain, the tears, the beers, the stories... that's when I got what memorial day is supposed to be about. https://twitter.com/PollySpin/status/1264912427201826817?s=19
the whole weekend spent with a Vietnam vet, listening to him open up about what he'd seen, the friends he'd lost, the pain, the tears, the beers, the stories... that's when I got what memorial day is supposed to be about. https://twitter.com/PollySpin/status/1264912427201826817?s=19
Tater has a permanent smile, bright blue eyes, loves to laugh. for three days he cycled happy to sad, reflective to dgaf. I was drawn to him. I'm a good listener; he had a lot to say. Vietnam was extreme - everything turned up to eleventy.
young men who "graduated" high school via the draft. Tater drove a bulldozer - they went into the jungle first to clear the way for troops. they took cover under their machines when the Vietcong fired from the trees. Tater saw friends die. he was 19. he didn't want to be there.
memorial day 1999, an empty Busch Light can sails over the deck rail and lands on the pile below: "welp, another dead soldier. reckon I need another. this is for Tommy. Tommy was from ______, and he...."
this went on all weekend long, Tater naming dead soldiers.
this went on all weekend long, Tater naming dead soldiers.
there's nothing like seeing a grown man cry. listening to Tater that memorial day weekend, I started to understand the meaning of the day; to grasp the reality of lives lost in war. 1999. that's when I got it - memorial day isn't mine, nor yours; it belongs to the dead.
it's easy, really, to make your memorial day about the dead: name your soldier and live the day for him. everything you do, chores or grilling, moping or partying, at home or the lake - do it for the dead soldiers. they can't, so you can.
I don't know what Tater is doing today, yet I do. Tater, and thousands like him, are remembering. every soldier who's seen another die, this is their day to honor and grieve. every American can join them. name your soldiers. live the day for them.
my ex FiL, Tater's brother, pressed his best friend's guts back into his body & held him while he died. 18 yrs old, in the back of jeep, dirty, sweaty, bloody, trying to shove "spaghetti" back into another teenager's non-existent mid section.
memorial day isn't about me or you.
memorial day isn't about me or you.
young men learning how to read the map, climbing atop their bulldozers, heading off alone into the jungle. for the enlisted, this was one of the best jobs going.
today, don't complain about your life - save it for tomorrow - be glad you have stuff to complain about.
today, don't complain about your life - save it for tomorrow - be glad you have stuff to complain about.
memorial day 2020. I'm living my day for soldiers who died in forgotten fields and sticky jungles, smelling gunpowder and rot and fear, defending their flag regardless of whether it made any sense.
whatever I do today, they can't.
God bless ’em, they deserved better.
whatever I do today, they can't.
God bless ’em, they deserved better.
