Memorial Day 2019 – We Remember
We got the email that our nephew John’s brick had been laid last Tuesday, and got out there this past Thursday, my next day off. The new sections are overwhelmed by the concrete leading into The Wall, but it made quick work to find his. And, frankly, it was an unexpected emotional hit when major dad said, “I found him!,” tenderly brushing the last of the fine sand from the brick’s face. The tears. Out of nowhere. Oh, John. Dammit.
Things happen for a reason, I guess.
At the very moment we were rewrapped in that cocoon of grief, trying to capture one decent picture through tears and blazing sunshine, a matter-of-fact voice broke into our sad sniffling, “Do either of you know how to run that damn computer?” I had to shake my head a moment, before I could look up, wiping my cheeks with my fingers and drying them on the tail of my shirt. Here stood a whip thin older gentleman in shorts, a blue polo, sunglasses, and straw chapeau, gesturing at The Wall’s locator computer kiosk, and, obviously, wondering why he hadn’t got an answer out of us.
“THAT computer,” he reiterated to the obviously challenged dolts before him.
“Um…no.” I said. “But it can’t be too hard, if it hasn’t fried from being out here all these years. Let’s see what we can do.” Over we trot.
Man. Was that thing cranky. He was looking for a friend he’d served with in Vietnam…who hadn’t come home. He’d plugged in 50 combinations of names, dates, and still no joy. After a 5 or 6 futile attempts using his suggestions – and with him ready to throw in the towel – I said, “Let’s try to strip this down to bare minimums. First and last name.”
Nothing again.
major dad and the fellow started to walk off, when miraculously there was a flicker, and I yelled, “Hey! He’s from Daleville, AL, right?” Back to the screen he came.
There were a number of “Williams” who had suddenly popped up on the locator matrix. And there was his friend, with his wall section and line. “But he was a captain,” the man mused, as the line said ‘major.’ “I’m sure he was posthumously promoted, which is why your searching for a captain couldn’t find him. These old computers are very literal.”
He kept repeating the entry address, and major dad gently said, “Come on. Let’s go find him.” Off they went.
I stayed at the computer while the two of them went down the walk to the 1972 section of The Wall. major dad helped him find his buddy, spent a moment with him, and then left them to visit.
We were just saying goodbye to John’s brick, when the gentleman came back up the walk. As he passed by, in a voice choked with tears, he said, “Thank you for helping me find him,” continuing straight to his car, shutting the door, and sat, head drooped over the steering wheel.
I looked at major dad, and we gave each other a little hand squeeze.
I guess we were meant to be there.
We miss our John every single day.
We remember, and thank them all.
God bless America.
Uncategorized | tree hugging sister | 
May 27, 2019 11:58 am | 
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