A Fortunate One!

Despite what CCR says, I am a fortunate one. My eighteen months in Vietnam, though a trial beyond what I expected, made me the man I am today. It paved the way for a life that has been far better than I had any reasonable expectation of living.

Due to this service and the other eighteen months I served, I was able to finance my college education. The three-year interval allowed the girl who would become my wife and the love of my life to mature into a young woman. These two effects laid the foundation and formed the launch pad for all that followed and for every significant aspect and experience in my adulthood after my service in Vietnam.

My service in the Army made my enrollment at Robert Morris University possible, and that led directly to my initial encounter with Nancy because neither she nor I had acquired a car for the commute and we met at the bus stop that was roughly halfway between our homes.

Because I had grown accustomed to the rain in Vietnam, I did not hesitate to ditch my old umbrella and walk up to the pretty brunette and say, “Nice weather we're having.” She took pity on me and invited me to share her umbrella. Then, we shared the bus ride to our adjacent, but different, colleges, and I had secured her contact information by the time we parted for the day.

From the Fall of 1968 to the Summer of 1973, Nancy and I explored the wonders of young love. Nancy’s love kept me from joining “Weathermen,” and quite literally, saved my life. Although I proudly served in Vietnam, my loyalty was more to the warriors than the war. Also, the murders of John [1963], Malcolm [1965], Martin [4/1968], and Bobby [6/1968], had convinced me that a reactionary coup was underway. My perspective was that the combat skills gained in Vietnam could be best deployed against the internal enemies who were destroying the Republic. I had, after all, taken an oath to defend the Republic against all enemies be they foreign or domestic. Loving a beautiful woman who gives you all she has can ease one’s troubled mind and spirit. Finally, on 23 June 1973, Nancy and I were married. Now, a few days shy of 45 years later, I realize how fortunate I was to have spent time in Vietnam and the US Army so that Nancy could change from a lovely girl into the splendid, sensuous, young woman, I first met in the Fall of 1968.

Some might say that any posting would have provided the time lapse that enabled me to meet encounter Nancy at that bus stop on a rainy Fall morning. They would be right in one sense and utterly wrong in the most crucial aspect. Flag Day of 1968 was a transformative experience for me. If I had served in the US or Europe, it would have just been another barely observed patriotic holiday. In the Central Highlands of Vietnam, over a sixteen-hour period, it became the crucible in which became who I am. After my last Flag Day in Vietnam, I fully understood the meaning of this phrase: “Warriors don't worry, we win!” My outlook on life changed forever, and my approach to life generally and women specifically switched from diffidence to the confidence. Thus, this crucial encounter would probably not have gone as it did if Nancy had met the callow youth I was rather than the committed citizen I had become.

Once we married, Nancy and I began building a home and a life together. We invested the first decade of marriage in strengthening the relationship and maturing. We did not want the responsibilities of parenthood while we were still in any way still kids ourselves. We pursued careers and traveled. We made friends that were not part of our respective childhoods. We relocated so that our lives together blossomed in a venue different from that of our youth. We homesteaded our adulthood. To slightly paraphrase Steppenwolf’s Rock and Roll War: 

“Tell everybody I'm feelin' better, it’s been slow, but I'm healing

Through mother earth and father time, I don't hurt like before

I love a good woman; we have two sons, they’re our joy, our             salvation

May they never fly in, fight in or die in some rock 'n roll war

Tell everybody I'm doin' all right, yes, I'm livin' and lovin'

For I'm done flyin', livin' and dyin' in that rock n' roll war.”

Bryan and Sean, our sons, have grown into splendid young men. They are politically aware; productively employed, and people Nancy and I are delighted to call friends as well as sons. But for the time in Vietnam and the US Army, they would not exist, and their presence would not enrich our lives.

In college, I protested the war in which I had fought. It seemed to me that politicians had sold out the cause I risked life and limb for and they sought to abandon the people my brothers in arms, and I had fought to protect. Virtually everything I believed was proving to be a lie! Thus, my already liberal orientation became a lifelong commitment. Never again would I relent in my efforts to promote governance of the people, by the people, and for the people.

 A new enemy became the target of my disrespect: The Republican Party and the plutocrats, theocrats, and bigots who bankroll and empower it! Although I had left the Army, I never rescinded the first thirty-three words of my enlistment oath:

“I do solemnly affirm that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same.”

I was never big on the part that spoke of obedience, but I did my duty while in the Army because I was committed to the first thirty-three words and separation from the service did nothing to alter that.

This Flag Day will mark 50 years since what I call the Battle of Thân Thiện (Amity). As far as I know, it never had an official designation as such. That doesn’t matter to me in the least. The adult I have been for these last five decades came to be on that day in that place. What I learned about struggle, valor, loss, loyalty to others and fidelity to one's promises in that crucible changed me fundamentally and forever.

When I returned to the United States, I had a mild case of what we now call “post-traumatic stress.” Neither I nor anyone else recognized it for what it was. Fortunately, I met Nancy before I was utterly lost. Loving her gave me numerous reasons to keep on with the keeping on. Her loving me made it possible for me to do so.

After college, I pursued a business career for some years but did find genuine satisfaction in my work until circumstances propelled me to become a teacher. At last, I had a job I did for its own sake! Of course, I was not independently wealthy, so pay and benefits were necessary. They were by no means my main motivation for teaching. I felt I finally had a chance to fulfill a promise made long ago to make my survival count.

As time moved along and my twin sons grew up, I coached their soccer teams. Win or lose I loved every minute of the practices and the matches. My soccer coaching concluded with an indoor match for the championship of a local league.

Our opponent had beaten us during the regular season by a score of 11 to 1. I could sense the boys were apprehensive. As we assembled on the pitch, I told them to “forget about the previous game. Whatever happens, remember we play for the exercise and the love of the sport. You are already Champions in my mind.” They visibly relaxed. We won the match 3 to 0. Their response and that victory were my cues to retire from coaching!

As our boys progressed through public school and then onto college, Nancy and I transitioned toward a role more like peers than parents to the emerging adults. We still provided support of various kinds, but increasingly the boys made their own choices and paid their way. Their growing independence meant another phase for Nancy and me as a couple and a partnership. Once again, I was a fortunate one, and this new stage commenced smoothly, and it continues to go well.

Eventually, the flow of time brought first myself, and a few years later, Nancy to retirement; it too is going well. Once I retired, and this allowed me to become more active on Facebook, Twitter, and other social media platforms. As a teacher, I had been quite circumspect in this area.

My good fortune in other areas continued in many ways on social media. Many former students became my Facebook friends. This connection enabled me to keep in contact with them and allowed us to converse like adults. I am delighted by their progress and enjoy our exchanges.

Facebook was also a venue for me to connect with new people. Some have become valued friends. For example, Larry Valdick, a fellow Vietnam War veteran, Dan Sanders, a fellow anti-war protester, and Shelly Duarte, another Cancer fighter and true, blue liberal! Larry is my brother in battle; Dan is my brother in protest. Shelly is my sister citizen. Only the fabled luck of the Irish could bring us together in spirit, if not in person, to fight side-by-side for the Foundational premises and promises of the land once known as freedom!

         Beyond social media, survival allowed me to build upon a friendship with Tom Garvin that goes back to high school. Due to Nancy's teaching career, I had the opportunity to become friends with John Loverti and Peter Kroll. Thus, if I had not made it back and met Nancy, my three closest friends would probably not be who they are. Just another example of good fortune that traces back to Flag Day 1968!

It is also in retirement that the Big C came to visit me. Once again, the amazing grace of Flag Day 1968 came to my aid. Five lived, and five died. I was one of the survivors, but on that day and in that place, I packed my bags. I learned then that life could end in a blink. In honor of my promise to my fallen brother from another mother, I have treated every subsequent hour of every subsequent day as a bonus. And the over 400,000 hours that elapsed between then and my operation had put me at ease with mortality while they filled me with gratitude at my good fortune.

In researching for another article, I learned that on May 17, 1781, the Boston Independent Chronicle published a story about Nathan Hale’s execution which quoted him as saying:

“I am so satisfied with the cause in which I have engaged, that my only regret is, that I have not more lives than one to offer in its service.”

I fully concur with Mr. Hale’s perspective. My only regret is that I have not done more and better to “make my service and survival count.” Some say what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger. I am still here, and I will carry it on for as long as breath yet draws. I vow to use every ounce of my energy and every moment of my time to further make good on my promise of fifty years ago. “Making promises signals good intentions. Keeping promises signifies good character.” Believing the first helped me be a fortunate one; living the second made me worthy of that good fortune.

           Though it may seem counterintuitive, I am confident that due to my eighteen months of service in the Vietnam War, I truly am A Fortunate One! 

Photo credit: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7LN2U5-ogkM