Tears on the Front Lawn
In the last few days, the Reed chapter of SDS (Students for a Democratic Society) were putting up flags on the Front Lawn representing the dead as a result of the Iraq War. There are several hundred thousand white flags for Iraqis (1 flag represents 6 dead), and 3,000 red flags for the American solidiers (this time a 1:1 ratio). The growth of this project has been emotionally overwhelming. I've spent several hours under going this activity since Sunday (in several blocks).
Today, was an especially moving day. As I was headed to the library, I overheard a homeless Vietnam veteran (who was carrying cans) speak about the horrors and nightmares of the Vietnam time. He talked about being trained to kill, and being sent in to kill people who had no reason to be killed. He said he still had nightmares. Then he recounted how he was headed to his son's funeral who himself just died in the Iraq War. I suggested to him that he put some flags down for the healing process.
He grabbed a bundle of white flags, and he somberly began to place them. He then asked what the colors meant and he asked if there were any red ones left. Since I needed to head out to the library, I asked one of the SDS kids to go out to find a red flag for him, a hard feat given that we were running out and we weren't even sure if there were any left (there are still countless white flags to be put up). I forgot something and left the scene, and when I came back, the kid was handing the man a red flag. He saluted the kid, military style, and took the flag and placed it in the ground, and saluted it. At which point, I was in tears, and again am in tears writing this. He then continued placing white flags, and bitterly said, "Thank you Mr. Bush".
Today, was an especially moving day. As I was headed to the library, I overheard a homeless Vietnam veteran (who was carrying cans) speak about the horrors and nightmares of the Vietnam time. He talked about being trained to kill, and being sent in to kill people who had no reason to be killed. He said he still had nightmares. Then he recounted how he was headed to his son's funeral who himself just died in the Iraq War. I suggested to him that he put some flags down for the healing process.
He grabbed a bundle of white flags, and he somberly began to place them. He then asked what the colors meant and he asked if there were any red ones left. Since I needed to head out to the library, I asked one of the SDS kids to go out to find a red flag for him, a hard feat given that we were running out and we weren't even sure if there were any left (there are still countless white flags to be put up). I forgot something and left the scene, and when I came back, the kid was handing the man a red flag. He saluted the kid, military style, and took the flag and placed it in the ground, and saluted it. At which point, I was in tears, and again am in tears writing this. He then continued placing white flags, and bitterly said, "Thank you Mr. Bush".