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Posted by Mark in NJ [63.143.148.4] on Wednesday, August 17, 2011 at 02:21:53 :
In Reply to: Upseting encounter today posted by Glen Id [70.41.247.101] on Tuesday, August 16, 2011 at 23:17:28 :
In part, I became a Firefigther during the time I rented a room in a home owned by a Vietnam Vet and his wife.
Even though he rarely discuss his tours of duty, living with someone who put it all on the line gave me the added incentive to do the same for the community that I was now a part of.
I felt a little more worthy of sharing his home.
The following story will be a part of my memory for the rest of my days.
An Unforgetable Moment in Time 3/1/07
In May of 1984, I returned to New Jersey from a 5
month trip were I spent most of my time on the West
Coast. I took a few days to get my 74 Harley ready
for a ride to Washington DC.
I had never been to DC. This trip would last about 10
days. I took many rides through DC and the
surrounding areas while staying at my cousins house.
Within a few days of arriving, it rained all day and I
walked to the subway and took a train into the Mall
area of DC. That Tuesday, I walked all over the Mall.
I came upon the Vietnam Memorial for the first time.
I was told that it is always so crowed that the lines
back up well past the end of the walls.
Today, only a handfull of people were there when I
slowly made my way down the rain drenched path. I
don't really remember any off them. I was too
consumed with the haunting silence and the erie design
of the Memorial that hauntingly shown the surroundings
in it's wet granite walls.
My own reflection was a part of that scene. I felt as
if people were in that wall trying to communicate with
me. As I moved down the path passed all the flowers,
cards, and photos, I looked for names on the wall that
were similair to mine. I remember thinking that's a
silly thing to do.
Within a few minutes of arriving, I was the only one
left at the Memorial. So I thought.
A timidly soft young boys voice broke the silence.
"Can you take a picture of me and my father?"
As I turned toward the voice, I saw a slim, blonde
teenage boy in Army fatigues that were a little too
large for him. I don't think I know the proper words
to explain the boys posture or the expresionless look
on his face.
I said, "yes", and he handed me his small instamatic
camera. I turned my head to look for his father but
I did not see anyone. When I looked back, the boy had
positioned himself against one of the Memorial's walls
and was pointing with his right index finger to a specific
name that was carved in the smooth face of the stone.
Just then, I realized, his father's name is on the
wall.
I took the picture. He said thank you as he reached
out for his camera. As he walked away, I stood there
motionless and in total silence.
Even though I was the only person standing there, I
was not alone.
Mark Davis
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