Tuesday, December 11, 2007

The Mall past and present: The Wall





I do remember feeling quite moved by the Vietnam Memorial the first time I encountered it. I don't exactly remember when that was! But neither does my husband so I don't feel quite so bad.

It couldn't have been in our family trip from Illinois to the East Coast in 1981 because it wasn't finished then. What I don't recall is if I went there when in DC for a LLL International Conference back in 1995. For sure we were stopped there in late July of 1996 when we stopped in DC on the way to Atlanta, GA, to watch our first US Men's Olympic Soccer match (against Argentina) in the electric atmosphere of a roaring color-ladened crowd packed into RFK Stadium.

I remember being drawn in to the Wall as I descended into the earth. Well, it felt that way. Walking down the crease in the ground along the expanding Wall elicited feelings of not quite doom or dread, but of solemnity, accompanied by memories of the turmoil the war caused when I was in college of protests, overturned campus police cars and the Kent State shootings and my own strong reaaction against war in general. But more importantly it helped me reflect on the newer perspective I'd gained with time as I realized that those who died while serving weren't war mongers but young men who'd been drafted or those who wanted to server our country or enlisted looking for a way to a better life. And the injuries and loss of all those who died and the impact on their family, friends and communities.

So this time it was a lighter day. Still we witnessed a poignant scene. Brought to the Wall to gather some info to show I'd really been there, right at the very panel the GPSr had guided us to were three adults, a man and two women. At first I'd barely noticed them. Too busy counting. Then I heard a question, Are you serving?" asked a woman who looked close to my age with an official-looking yellow cap of a volunteer on her head. "Yes, Ma'am," came the very respectful answer from the fellow with that telltale haircut. "Which branch?" "Marines, Ma'am." The two women had something to say. "Just commissioned yesterday! As a Captain." "Is that right?" came the volunteer's reply as she turned toward the man again. She then approached him, reached up and planted ever so gently a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you." It was so much more than words can describe. The joy she exuded, the pride, the full knowledge of what he'd committed to with all the sacrifice and life-changing events ahead of him. And might even had already with being commissioned at that rank.

Even though I'd seen it before the Wall still carried quite an impact with the leavings of loved ones at the foot of the panels, the searching, the rubbings being taken of the names in the careful interactions with the inscribed black granite.



No comments: