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A Son’s Reflection at ‘The Wall’

A Son’s Reflection at ‘The Wall’

Father’s Day 2010: Former US Army Chief of Staff and Gold Star son, Gen. George W. Casey delivers the keynote address. Gen. Casey’s father, Maj. Gen. George W. Casey Sr., was killed in Vietnam on July 7, 1970.

By General George W. Casey, Jr. The first time I saw the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, it took my breath away as  I struggled with the scope of the loss that it represented for our family and  for our Country. My father’s name is on The Wall, on the 126th line of panel 9-W. He was  commanding the 1st Cavalry Division when his UH-1 “Huey” helicopter crashed near  Bao Loc on a mission to the hospital at Cam Ranh Bay to thank servicemen under  his command that were injured during the Division’s successful operations into  Cambodia.

For me, and for the family members and friends of the 58,282 men and women  whose names appear on The Wall each visit is an especially profound experience.  But the Memorial isn’t for us alone. It’s been a place of remembrance and  healing for all Americans. Nearly half of all Americans today were born after the fall of Saigon in 1975. For them it is difficult to appreciate the divisions the war created in  this country. Far from being honored like today’s veterans, the men and women of our Armed  Forces were reviled in some quarters.

There weren’t any welcoming parades for  the thousands of returning American servicemen and women who did their duty in  Vietnam. Their sacrifices, and those of their families, were neither recognized  nor widely appreciated. The Wall changed that. Maya Lin’s simple and dramatic design, the  ever-present veterans who stand by just to talk, and the lifelike bronze  statutes have all helped to forever transform the way Americans view those who  served in Southeast Asia.

The veterans who’ve served ever since have been the beneficiaries of that  change. Every time the words “Thank you for your service!” are uttered, their  origins are found at The Wall. Now, three decades after The Wall was dedicated, the Vietnam Veterans  Memorial Fund, the same volunteers who conceived it and raised the money for it,  plan to break ground later this year for an Education Center on an adjacent plot  of land.

The Education Center will complement the emotional power of The Wall with a  state-of-the-art interactive learning experience honoring not just those who  served in Vietnam but all American veterans. Besides a long-overdue exhibit of the many personal remembrances that have  been left at The Wall by friends and family members, a multi-media “Wall of  Heroes” will memorialize and personalize the 58,282 men and women who made the  ultimate sacrifice in Vietnam. Like The Wall itself, the Education Center is wholly a grassroots initiative – conceived and organized by veterans to honor the memories of their fallen  brothers and sisters.

Construction of this important tribute to America’s veterans depends on the  generosity of each of us. While survivors like me have a special responsibility,  every American citizen owes a great deal to those who’ve served. When a war is forgotten, so too, unfortunately, are the sacrifices of those  who fought it; and no nation can afford to forget the sacrifices of the brave  men and women of their Armed Forces–and the families who support them–who fight  to preserve the freedoms that it holds dear. This Fathers’ Day, please, join me, Sons and Daughters In Touch, and the  countless others who lost a loved one in Vietnam by supporting the Education Center at The Wall, so that we can learn from our past – and so that future  generations will never forget.

You can donate by visiting www.BuildTheCenter.Org or www.sdit.org.

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General George W. Casey, Jr. is a retired United States  Army General who last served as the 36th Chief of Staff of the United States  Army from April 10, 2007 to April 11, 2011 and as Commanding General, Multi-National Force – Iraq from June 2004 to February 2007.

Sons and Daughters In Touch is a non-profit organization  that provides support to the family members of those who died or remain missing  from the Vietnam War.  This Fathers’ Day they will renew their commitment to raise at least $1.00 from every surviving family member of the men and women  whose names are on the Wall to support the construction of the Education Center  at The Wall.

Read more: http://militaryadvantage.military.com/2012/06/a-sons-reflections-at-the-wall/#ixzz1xz70Ncn1 MilitaryAdvantage.Military.com Through the “$1.00 for Every Name on the Wall” campaign, SDIT is actively working to raise funds for the establishment of the Education Center at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial.  Your donation will help SDIT move closer to its goal of $58,282. 

Join us today in honor of our fathers and those who served with them.

‘…when I first understood the meaning of love’ – a tribute to my mother.

‘…when I first understood the meaning of love’ – a tribute to my mother.

By Cammie Geoghegan Olson, 2011

 Long forgotten and recently found pictures of my parents- on their wedding day, honeymoon and early years of my childhood- combined with an interview I heard of a Navy Seal widow being asked “What will you tell your children about their father?” compelled me to explore when I first understood the meaning of love.

The beauty is there is no exact moment, but a collection of moments and mementos. Family stories shared, memories carefully tucked away in a trunk, old pictures and written words from a life long ago. Maybe this is my moment as I pull it all together, my mom being the common golden thread.

Barbara Ann Weathers and John Lance Geoghegan married on Friday, June 13, 1964. Friday the thirteenth. This left my superstitious paternal grandmother (Mimi) in fear for her only child and his new bride.  Was it an omen?  Mom wonders if Mimi spent the rest of her life believing it was.

Following their wedding, they traveled to Tanzania, Africa to spend nine months as missionaries for the Catholic Relief Service. I was conceived in Africa and born on June 1965. My father was in training to leave for Vietnam in August.  It was a blessing I was born early, allowing my father more time with me before he left.

Three months after reaching Vietnam and five days following his twenty-fourth birthday, my father was killed in action.

With heartfelt emotion and eloquence, Mom shared her story in a chapter of the book We Were Soldier’s Once and Young [1].  The following describes the moments after learning of my father’s death.

“I went upstairs to look at Cammie, sleeping peacefully, not knowing how her life was so altered. In a recent letter, Jack (my father) said: ‘How about giving Cammie a little brother when I get back?’ Now there would be no more little Geoghegans. I picked up my sleeping baby and hugged her hard, still not believing that an end had come to everything we had hoped and dreamed and planned.”

We both lived in our “little house” in Redding Connecticut; my mom named the house “Dar Es Salaam,” which is the name of the largest city in Tanzania and means “Haven of Peace.” My grandparents (Mimi and Gee Gee) lived further up the hill. Even in their sorrow, they were determined to raise me surrounded with love and laughter.  An excerpt from a letter Mom wrote to me when I was three years old describes my environment in those early years.

“How glad we were when you were born into this world my dearest Cammie! How glad I am that your father could be with us long enough to see you enter it safely and surrounded by love: his love, my love, our love as your parents.  How glad I am that he saw us safely nestled in a little home on a hill near his parents in Redding, Connecticut, where they and I have showered you with love, warmth, and security.”

Your father had to leave us one November day in 1965, but he did not leave without knowing that his dearest loved ones were safe and secure with each other. It is as if he had placed you entirely in my care, with the love, devotion, and guidance of his beloved parents very close by. And it is as if he had said, ‘I cannot be physically present, but I will be with you – in thought, in memory and in whatever way I can from my place with God.’ ”

The letter was placed at the beginning of a leather bound album (one of two) embossed with “To Dearest Cammie, By his deeds will you know him.” Along with the albums is a trunk including the flag that laid on his casket, metals, yearbooks- whatever Mom had which would help me bring my father back to life. I was never pushed to delve into these items, but I knew they were there and Mom would be there when it was time.

Many people in the same situation would bury their feelings, destroy anything reminding them of their loved one and not allow anyone, including their own children, to speak of the loss. My mother is extraordinarily different.

Several years later, Mom remarried and chose a man who loved me as much as he loved her. A unique man whom she met in Mimi and Gee Gee’s home.  A man who also believed in keeping the memory of my father alive. “We married Daddy” in April 1969. My new daddy has loved me and supported me in all my efforts to learn about my father. When I traveled to Vietnam to “walk in my father’s footsteps,” Dad was the first one I called to tell about my experience in Saigon (he had served there himself in the early ’60s).

Our family circle had grown and we moved away from Redding. We visited Mimi and Gee Gee frequently throughout their lives (they were a third set of grandparents to my brother and sister who came along in the early ’70s). Those visits are etched in my mind and some of my most cherished memories.

It wasn’t until I was a young adult, and closer to the age of my father when he died, that I started to yearn for details. Ironically, it was around this time Mom was asked to retell her story for We Were Solder’s Once and Young (The book written by and about those who fought in and were affected by the battle that took my father’s life). Ten years later, a movie was made and my original family portrayed. The producer, now a close friend, told us it was Mom’s piece that moved him to bring the book to the screen.

I had many resources to pull the pieces together, priceless gifts! Engulfed with tears, I dug into the trunk and read the book. I was overwhelmed with sorrow at the grief my loved ones must have felt, but grateful I was sheltered from it.  I was then struck by the reality that I will never know the humanness of my father- how he walked, how he talked. Nonetheless, Mom helped me create an image that brings me peace.

Last October, after thirty years, Mom and I traveled back to Redding. We knocked on the door to our “little house” and were warmly greeted by a kind gentleman. He listened to our stories and showed us around.  So much had changed: walls taken down, rooms added and rearranged, beautiful landscaping. However, the spirit of the house was the same. I looked where the kitchen was and remembered the picture of Mom bathing me in the sink. Oh, and the sun porch…I eyed the spot where my father had held me, images from old photographs running through my mind.

As we were leaving, this wonderful man promised to tend to the Geoghegan cemetery plot. Now there will be flowers from the garden at “the little house”, flags on Memorial Day and a dear soul to periodically stop by to “check on things.” Our former home must have an essence about it to attract special people to live within its walls.

At the cemetery, we found the familiar spot, the original family of three, together on a hill overlooking the beautiful country side. Mom said they chose the spot because they found peace in the idea of my father longing to return to his “little home on the hill.” Sunbeams radiated off the top of the Geoghegan headstone as I captured the moment in pictures. It was surreal.

Brushing aside fallen leaves from Mimi’s marker, Mom said, “I don’t know how I would have managed had it not been for you and your father’s parents.Years later they [Mimi and Gee Gee] said the same thing about me. I guess we kept each other going.  When one was weak, another was strong.”

We shared our favorite memories of Redding. A moment which could have been melancholy was just the opposite. Love and laughter surrounded us.  We had come full circle.

Love encircles my life to this day. I married the man of my dreams, have given birth to two beautiful healthy daughters and am blessed by a large extended family and dear friends.

Every so often, I find “another piece to the puzzle,” a picture of my parents in Africa by their homemade Christmas tree, the freckles we call “angel kisses” on my daughters’ cheeks reminiscent of the many freckles on my father’s face, an old soldier meeting me for the first time, saying those familiar words, “You look just like your Dad!”  Moments of awareness each embracing me with an overwhelming feeling of comfort. All this I owe to the strength, grace, unwavering devotion and love of my mom.

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[1] Moore and Galloway, We Were Soldiers Once And Young, (New York: Random House, 1992), 333.

[Web site note: the birth and infancy of Cammie Geoghegan Olson was a central story in the movie, “We Were Soldiers.”  Her parents were portrayed by actors Chris Klein and Keri Russell.]

An Open Letter to the Children Who Lost Parents on 9/11

An Open Letter to the Children Who Lost Parents on 9/11

On the 20th anniversary of the 9/11 terror attacks, Sons and Daughters In Touch looks back on its ‘Open Letter’ to the children who lost parents on that day. 

                                Based on the life experiences of Sons and Daughters In Touch                                  America’s Gold Star ‘sons and daughters’ from the Vietnam War. 

November 2001: An Open Letter to the Children who lost a parent in the Terrorist Attacks on America

In the aftermath of the attack on America, scores of relief agencies mobilized to aid the victims of this unspeakable act of war.

Among the most haunting questions was: “What will happen to the children who lost their parents in the attacks?” For the past 12 years, Sons and Daughters In Touch (SDIT) has been addressing that very question for the now-grown children of American servicemen lost during the Vietnam War.

The question then was, “What is it like to have lost your father in the Vietnam War?” And now, “What is it like to have lost your parent in the attack on America?” Unfortunately, the issue of “children victims” has been the focus of limited national research. Instead, much of what is known about the healing process for the children of Vietnam losses has come to light through the efforts of Sons & Daughters In Touch (SDIT). Formed in 1989 by some of these “children,” SDIT is a national support organization for more than 5,000 of the untold number of ‘sons and daughters’ left fatherless by the Vietnam War.

Together, we have peered into the past, shared our experiences, and established an ongoing legacy of learning, honor and remembrance. And in the midst of that has come hope and healing.

With a foundation based in the hard-earned life experiences of its members, SDIT offers the following insights which we hope can be a comfort and guide:

“A final good-bye…” Sadly, in those cases where your parents’ remains were not recovered, a lifelong sense of disbelief may exist.

Though it was impossible to achieve under these circumstances, the value of a tangible and visual “good-bye” cannot be underestimated. SDIT has learned from similar cases (primarily those in which a loved one was listed as Prisoner of War or Missing in Action and is still unaccounted for), that the reality of the loss will be tempered by the understandable question, “…are you sure?”

Without some form of closure, you may find yourself imagining that Mom or Dad might someday walk into the room, or be there to pick you up after school. That is normal and expected. Fortunately, time and reason are sound cures.

Over the years, you will come to accept the loss of your parents as a tragically-heroic badge of honor.

“Get over it” Don’t ever allow anyone to demand this of you. The process of grieving and healing is a unique and often lengthy process. The simple reality is that one never ‘gets over’ such a loss.

For a lifetime, this tragedy will be a seminal moment in your life. Every stage and milestone in life will now be different. As a teenager, an adult, a parent and a grandparent; at 30, 40, 50 and older ages, your life will be different than it would have been had you not experienced this loss. One never truly “gets over it”.

Let acceptance be your destination…and know that your arrival at this goal might take a long time.

“A time and place” As you come to accept your loss, it will be helpful to have a special time and place for remembering your parent. You may choose to do that alone, within your immediate family, with friends, or with the greater family of those who experienced a similar loss.

For many SDIT members, the Vietnam Veterans Memorial “Wall” in Washington, DC, became a place of solace and healing. For you, perhaps a national memorial that has yet to be established, or one in your community, will serve that purpose. You might also seek a day that permits public celebration of your parents’ life. For us, Father’s Day affords that opportunity (and these national tributes have served as the building blocks to help extend the healing to new sons and daughters).

Should you choose to wait until adulthood before reaching out to others who endured a similar experience, do not be afraid. Most members of SDIT were in their 20’s and 30’s before taking the same steps. Some of you will openly embrace this common bond and actively nurture it. Others will reject it. Know that participation and interaction is a choice, not an obligation. And that you may benefit from more or less interaction at different times in your life.

“The benchmark” Perhaps the most significant milestone for the members of SDIT was the time in life when they outlived their fathers. War’s cruelty dictated that some of our members outlived their fathers at 19 or 20. For others it was 25, 30 or 35, but it brought with it questions about how to live our lives without the benchmark that Dad represented.

This same milestone will exist for you. Reaching this milestone will signal a venture into uncharted waters filled with questions. “Is this the way adulthood really is?” “Can I ever accomplish as much as they did?” “How would mom or dad advise me in this challenging situation?” The answers to these questions can be found through discovering just who your mom or dad was.

Ask questions of family and friends, keep pictures and mementos, and attend your parents’ class reunions. The knowledge and understanding – and possibly friends – you’ll gain will help you to hear your parent’s voice and inherit their intuition.

Finally, while it’s impossible to document the myriad lessons we’ve learned here, we extend an offer to help however possible. As you organize, and as you heal, let us know how we can help. In the meantime, our hearts and prayers are with you.

In solidarity,

 

Sons and Daughters In Touch

 

[Sons and Daughters In Touch is a 501(c) 3 non-profit organization committed to locating and uniting the Gold Star “sons and daughters” of American servicemen lost in the Vietnam War.]