Memories ~ Tribute to My Brother 4Jan1950 - 8Nov1969

  (This is a repost of my original article for a new group I've joined.)

In Memoriam - January 4, 1950 to November 8, 1969

I didn't realize how difficult this was going to be until I started it.  But I want to give a proper Memorial and Remembrance to my brother, Jerry.

My mother and I packed up boxes of goodies to send to Jerry in Vietnam usually a couple times a month.  She would put in goodies, baked goods, candy and such.  I always sent him stories.  I tried to imagine some of his mates and officers and made up silly stories.  Apparently everyone loved them and he always asked for more.

One day I came down from my bedroom and there was the box.  Mom had it all prepared.  I was the carrier and always dropped it at the post office on my way to school.  This day I just didn't have the energy for anything except sitting in a chair in a daze.  I didn't even go to class much less take the box.

The box sat there for two, maybe three days.  Mom nagged me about it and each time I promised to take it but still it sat.  I was beginning to wonder at my negligence and malaise.

The next day - the third or fourth day - there was a knock at the door.  I answered and there stood two servicemen.  I then understood.

They asked me to take them to my mother.  She was at her daycare.  When we arrived, thankfully, there were only two children.  One of the servicemen asked me to take the children to another part of the place.  It was a small place but I did find a room where there were toys and books.  They were good little girls and adored my mother.

I tried to distract them with a book reading.  I feared they would start asking me questions about the servicemen.  We read the book and they seemed absorbed.  Suddenly a soul-splitting keening, moaning, screaming came from the other room.  I remember that so clearly, it still hurts like it was yesterday.   The girls were terrified and we held each other and cried.  One of the servicemen came to the door and asked me to call their mother.   I did that.  She came pretty quickly. 

The servicemen had already taken mom to their car.  One came back to help me.  Mrs. J came for her girls and gave me the name of a doctor for mom.  After she left I grabbed the client book, locked the place up and went to the car.

The next few days were spent notifying people, making funeral arrangements and waiting for the body.   It seemed like it took forever to get the body.  We had a military contingent as escorts and helpers throughout the process. 

He must have shot a bird and showing off his trophy.  He was a hunter.  His first season out, he got a 6-point buck.

Jerry believed in what he was doing.  He could have avoided it as he was the only son.  But he chose to go.  I have no more respect for the people who got us into that war than I do for the people who have gotten us into the Iraq war.  But this isn't about me; it's about my brother and I honored his decision then and I honor it now.

He loved kids and it doesn't surprise that he would be surrounded by them even though he couldn't speak the language.

This is also about the pain and disruption these decisions made by others causes.  They may think it is a small and honorable price but they're wrong.  They are so wrong and the self-righteous be damned.

My mother gave the flag she received from the military to my cousin, Richard.  He had served also and came home pretty damaged.  Now he drives a pace car for one of the big races and he flies the flag on the back of his car in Jerry's honor.

I don't think I can add anymore.  This is feeling very fragmented and I can't spend too much more time on it, so I submit it to you as is.  I appreciate your audience and understanding of my intentions here. 

The following letter came a few weeks later.  There were many letters from commanding officers, chaplains and the Army.  But this one grabbed me by the throat.  I hope you can make it out.