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At the Wall

     I recently read about a project concerning the Vietnam War Memorial in Washington D.C. A group has decided that an individual photograph of all 58,000 of those names on the wall should be assembled and displayed so that people could see more accurately who these people were.  That is, what they looked like.  Of course, what immediately came to mind was the Life Magazine cover of June 1969.  That week an even 100 U.S. servicemen had been killed in Vietnam.  In previous weeks the numbers were higher, like 350 or 473.  But the even 100 prompted the editors of Life to issue a special fold-out cover.  The photographs of all 100 GIs were printed so the nation could see the faces behind the numbers.  The impact was immediate and overwhelming.



    I was in training with the VISTA Volunteer program in Austin Texas that week.  I vividly recall someone having a copy of that magazine and on an afternoon break from the training sessions many of us sat outside on a grassy quad passing that Life magazine around.  

    A high school friend of mine, Bill Garcia, had been killed in Vietnam the previous year, so I knew his photo wouldn't be on that cover.  But what struck me was how similar these young men looked to guys I knew.  I'm sure many of the photos were high school yearbook pictures, so that definitely increased the similarity to folks I knew.  

    So now,  when people go to the memorial in D.C. or when they check online, they will be able to see a likeness of the person whose name appears on the wall.

    I've been to the wall a couple of times.  On my first visit, I wanted to make a rubbing of my friend's name.  A guard will provide the paper and the lead pencils to make the stencil-like rubbing. As it happened, my friend's name was at the highest point on the wall.  The guard saw my predicament and deftly handed me a ladder.  I was hoping to have a peaceful, silent moment of reflection at the wall, but the minute I started to climb the ladder, people closed in around me, snapping photos. Suddenly I'd become a photo op.  I completed my task and then slipped up the hill in front of the wall and under the shade of a nearby tree to finally get my time with myself.  



    Recently I looked in my high school yearbook for Bill Garcia's Senior picture.  It wasn't there.  He must have been absent that day.  The photo they have of him in this new project must be from his Junior year.  Then, as I was leafing through the yearbook I recalled another candid shot of Bill.  It exemplifies his personality and showcases his black horn-rimmed glasses better than any Senior portrait ever would.


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