Home From the War? Not quite yet. God Bless the Fourth of July…
Home From the War? Not quite yet. God Bless the Fourth of July…
I went off to the war in Vietnam. Training, waiting, arriving, coming back home. It changed everything. I came home and nothing happened. No one wanted to know where I had been, what I had been doing. Normalcy awaited. I did not participate. Not really. Not ever. Not then. Not now. There was no one to talk to. There was nothing to say. Inside I was filled up. All that stuff is still inside of me. With no place to go, even now, a half century later.
1969. Here we are in 2019. I look on national TV at the bodies of children floating face down in the Rio Grande; babies face down in the dirt of the Syrian desert; young people’s bodies filled with bullets from the police and from other random white men…in church, in nightclubs, at weddings, just walking down the street or trying to study in school. Maybe the entire nation has PTSD. Everyone but the GOP. They are stragely satisfied at the moment. With this POTUS. With this SCOT…
I went off to the war in Vietnam. Training, waiting, arriving, coming back home. It changed everything. I came home and nothing happened. No one wanted to know where I had been, what I had been doing. Normalcy awaited. I did not participate. Not really. Not ever. Not then. Not now. There was no one to talk to. There was nothing to say. Inside I was filled up. All that stuff is still inside of me. With no place to go, even now, a half century later.
1969. Here we are in 2019. I look on national TV at the bodies of children floating face down in the Rio Grande; babies face down in the dirt of the Syrian desert; young people’s bodies filled with bullets from the police and from other random white men…in church, in nightclubs, at weddings, just walking down the street or trying to study in school. Maybe the entire nation has PTSD. Everyone but the GOP. They are stragely satisfied at the moment. With this POTUS. With this SCOT…
