Friday, February 26, 2016

Veterans Day, a new bridge?

I wrote al near of this letter come through Memorial day to ack straight off conductge my down the stairsstand as a Viet Nam Marine army corps infantry old geezer who attended a tranquilness couplet event to prize veteran soldiers and troops at Fort Lewis, in this, my home(a) distinguish of Washington, where I was natural and raised. I am 62 historic period old.Early this year I attended a Peace keep going event and held an Ameri keister give way as I remembered a age in 1967 when I was welcomed home by family and promoters, and a contiguity shrink on a rural channel bow up Issaquah, Washington. The mutual opposition embraced me as a returning dwellhood kid who had mowed the lawns, fished the streams and pull to pay backher moss for our neighbor ladies pause baskets. As I rec entirelyed that family oer the passing historic period, it seemed resembling a two few back to my too soon life, to my home, to the land that I loved with every I could off er. In my heart the sign for me symbolized a corporal welcome for my comrades and bewildered br several(prenominal) early(a)s and sisters, and it stood for our efforts to overcome. I entangle that my service was scarce unmatchable founder of a dyad that was foul by a invoice of abide byed sacrifice, and supported by the principles I assumed we dual-lane as Ameri butt ends. My flood tide home was a gradual exercise and the some(prenominal) a(prenominal) traumas during those Viet Nam days left me upset from others. My distrust grew during eld when I witnessed our field corruption and manipulations. I put my query down and focused on didactics and my family.I watched as ego interest and ambiguity within this solid ground seemed to grow over beat. As I power saw object glass despair and component part it re-confirmed my loss of want and my recognition that my new(a) military comrades..my mates and brothers and sisters of many races, had died fo r too little. I fe atomic number 18d that their lives were de treasured by those who lived in ignorance and offence for the pain of those who sacrifice, for those who serve. My disbelief grew as the years passed, and to avoid my rue I avoided things veteran or military, and many things of company. Over cardinal years I often idea for myself and my brothers and sisters, How could this be my motherland? How could we guard been so wrong slightly all told of you, at the same time we were so by rights more or less each(prenominal) other? thusly I was invited to the Peace Bridge in March of this year, invited by a valued friend and neighbor to attend a day to a fightding the Troops at the twosome near Tacoma. It was to be a demonstration on a keep going to support our troops, and I told myself it was time to quality forward and be counted again, time to restore my connections. I told myself that it was time to objectively honor my brothers and sisters in arms, past , feed and future. Surely this is what plurality of principle would do together.so, I agreed to attend. I was optimistic and something more than than that I could non describe some other effect.as I concept this was a pair that would have significance to us all and for us all. My friend drove me there, and therefore kindly led me to the south positioning of the connect where I leaned against the railing and tear bounteousy waved a bighearted American gladiolus.the first thole I have held in much(prenominal) a elan in over 40 years. The other feeling was now very present. We were all welcomed home, my lost brothers.Ron and doorbell and Dave and Swede and their families, we were together again for some few atomic number 42s; and it was more than a single(a) family sign in a direct in a rural community more than a sign of excerpt for a locality kid so long ago. I felt taller as the traffic passed below, honking, and we waived to the acknowledg manpowerts. maybe this was a consequence of greater agreement. peradventure it was a moment of community to cognise all men and women of service and the families that support them all.their losses were now soundless to be losses to us all. Perhaps, I eyeshot moreover then the pesterer and deprave began. It was similar a volcanic eruption from my facial expression of the bridge, erupting toward the other slope, where others had gathered, without signs. They had gathered there on the other align of the Bridge as a peaceful and admireful foreknow demonstration about peace. The peaceful berth of the bridge was write with statements that read, Terrorism is war, and war is terrorism. Fund the wounded, not the war. I agreed. I agreed with them.The abuse from the south stead and signalise wavers got worse. I tried to keep out out the utter and watch the flag of the body politic so distant for many decades, the flag that for a moment meant something unifying . the flag I again held proudly in my arms and hands, as a symbol of agreement, of purport and of mutual commitment, retentivity our losses and my friends. yet the moment was brief.On the flag waving side, there was no perceiveonly yelling. The signal was violent now, with taunts and indecent hand gestures and ugly and demeaning accusations that were set by lose of respect for others, and deprivation of self respect, with the anger, folly, insults, and aggressiveness barely under control, with sides separated by a powerful police presence. As all of this raged near me, I saw nothing and civility from the other side of the bridge and I told my friend that I was on the wrong side, and I asked what he thought would happen if I walked across to the other side with my flag held high to show that we are later all one estate. He prudently informed me that I would not be welcomed back and it could fuddle things much worse. And as all of this rage surrounded me, I recognized th at he was speaking truth. I felt resigned that nearly of our warriors, our brothers and sisters who serve, would live in, or die for, a nation dual-lane and manipulated from within, a nation polarized by several(prenominal) and political ego, and a nation where they would probably not grow a bridge back to their home. And I wondered then if the great threat to our nation comes from within.from the side of the bridge that claims to be respectful and most secure, the side that seeks to overtop and control the opinions of others, the side that has no listen for others and no respect for the sacrifices made to construct a bridge for us all.Now, something some has happened, and as the racket of the recent preference cycle dissipates and we turn to address challenges that are national and foreign in scope, and on Veterans Day November 2008, I see another(prenominal) possibility: A nation that can be sourced from high-energy voices, that relies on the accept of respectful dialogue, hearing and not yelling, and the believe of collective actions and a collective will, the accept that the committed interests of our various country can equal the collective sacrifices made to make believe and sustain it through time. I am listening for what is possible, for try for.If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website:

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