Published in The Orange County Evening News on Thursday, March 24, 1966 when I was selected as a Youth Day Publisher of the large city newspaper. My older sister recently sent this to me and the first time I read it since it was published. I’m sharing it as part of this blog’s purpose of contributing to my memoir.
I was given an hour to write something for publication by the Publisher. It did create a bit of controversy from the school Student Government. As Editor of the school paper I was challenging them to become more compassionate and responsible and used the opportunity to share my thoughts without mentioned them directly.
“Stand up and be counted,” apparently is becoming easier said than done nowadays.
Sure, everyone was discontent at one time or another, but not everyone has, or will have the initiative to lay down the tracks enabling things to get rolling.
The reactions that I observed from the students that had a part in “putting out” this youth stay issues strengthen my original thoughts, which were, “if you want something done, go ahead and do it yourself.”
But if you don’t want to take the time, then you probably didn’t want it done seriously enough.
Through journalism ideas can not only be expressed, but doubtless projects can be, and will be obtained,
Too many people have too little knowledge or too much conformity.
This is not only evident in big government, but is also sprouting up in student government at local high schools.
Then again, what does a high school student in particular senior, to look forward to after graduation?
Let’s face it, if the senior, in this case a boy, hasn’t already been drafted immediately after his “independence” from education he must have the situation to his growing pains.
The possibility of acquiring a dependable job becomes slimmer I every passing day. Together with this, college requirements are becoming tougher.
Unfortunately, most people don’t realize the type of person one will be as an adult, has a lot to do with the type of education he receives in school, of which high school has a most important part.
Some students “get away” with doing very little schoolwork. Others “get away” with dominating elections by “power clicks.”
If young people, as he occasionally referred to by adults, find it easy to get away with something at an early age, that what will become of them as they mature?
For this reason I’m glad such a thing as Youth Day is offered to many local “adults of tomorrow.”
In this way, maybe, just maybe, these problems can be sought and destroyed before engulfing the young men and women involved.
Such things as the Watts riots might be averted through more publicized announcement showing their discontent and offering suggestions to counter act this feeling of uneasiness between races.
How can the problem be solved if is not known that it needs to be solved? It can’t course.
if a person is been brought up are trained to believe something in youth, to him it is good, and anything else is bad.
The “good guy” always rides a white horse and sings, while the “bad guy” always rides a black course, as a mustache and snarls.
Real-life situations are not that simple and pose confusing problems.
With more chances for students to learn and understand the “outside” world, such as through Youth Day, much of this confusion can be averted.
This is a follow-up to yesterday’s Veterans Day. I was at a small market this afternoon to pick up a few things I needed since I don’t shop as often as I used to since the COVID-19.
I was waiting in line about three 6-feet lengths from the register. There was a woman with a young boy at the register and the cashier was tallying her items.
I saw her lean down towards her son and heard her say, “See that man with the Vietnam Veterans cap. He is a Veteran, and we appreciate our Veterans and what they’ve done for all of us keeping everyone in our country safe. I would like you to go over there and personally thank him for being a Veteran and for everything he’s done for us.”
I instinctively turned around to see if she was talking about someone behind me, but there was no one there. Then I remembered I had put on my Vietnam Veterans ball cap before leaving for the store since my hair was a mess.
The young boy looked at me, smiled shyly, and then strode past those in line until he stood next to me. He looked up at me and into my eyes and said, “Thank you for being a veteran and for serving our country and keeping us safe.”
I thanked him very much for what he shared. I wanted to make it a meaningful experience for him.
When I first came back from Vietnam, like many Veterans, I was not greeted warmly. Nonetheless, over the years, people gradually acknowledged my service and I would sometimes hear a thank you for your service or even occasionally a welcome home.
Having a parent encourage their young child to acknowledge a Veteran, including walking up to me and thanking me, was a first. The only time I observed this was on a television movie. It meant a lot to me, and more importantly, I trust it meant a lot to the young boy.
I finally got up to the register; the cashier totaled up the amount, and I paid. I was getting ready to push the cart and leave the store; she looked at me directly in my eyes and said, “We really do appreciate what you Veterans have done for us.” I held her gaze a few seconds; we both smiled, and I thanked her and walked out of the store feeling somehow more blessed.
How do I spend my time on Veterans Day? I think back to my 14 months US Army tour of duty from 1969 through 1970. I browse through a few photographs that I took of some of the things I observed and photographs my friends took of me.
Although painful at times, I listen to 60s music that we played during the war, which brings back visceral experiences. Each song pulls out my heartstrings, and I’m suddenly back in the country as if I’ve never left.
Being single and with the COVID-19, I am spending this day alone in my small mountain ‘cabin’ in Cedaredge, Colorado. It is only about 20 minutes to the top of the 11,000-foot mountain. I am editing some of my novels and nonfiction books when I’m not preoccupied with reflecting on my time during the Vietnam War.
I think of some of the soldiers, military doctors, and nurses I served with and those who sacrifice their life in service of their country.
As a Vietnam Veteran, Veteran’s Day is not about having a day off to play. This is a day for me like every day, remembering the Veterans, the military people who gave the greatest sacrifice, their lives, and all military families who give so much.
I believe that I shall always be one heartbeat away with slivers of shrapnel from my tour of duty in the war in countless layers.
Having Veterans Day and Thanksgiving in November gives us the opportunity to be grateful for what we do have, including our thankful, our freedom thanks to our military personnel.
The Times They Are a-Changin’ is a song written by Bob Dylan and released as the title track of his 1964 album of the same name. Dylan wrote the song to create an anthem of change for the fluid times. The ‘60s! What a significant decade of change for our country. What dramatic unforeseen life changes ahead for me.
In 1960 while living during turbulent times in racially embattled East Los Angeles, California, the White Fence, one of the most violent gangs at the time recruited me. It wasn’t that I had options about being in the gang. Nevertheless, life then was more about daily surviving all the other combined gangs. When the White Fence recruited me I knew their violent reputation even intimidated the other gangs so I embraced the process. I spent many months learning their criminal activities while initiated into the gang. I carried a Zip Gun that fired a .22-caliber bullet, and I had a large switchblade knife. I remained in the gang for two years losing my innocence once again until my single parent family moved out of the area. If I remained in the gang I can only imagine how my life would have changed.
I was first drawn into politics when John F. Kennedy became the 35th President of the United States on January 20, 1961. Like so many other people, I was drawn to his charismatic speeches and inspirational approaches to life. Always curious, I wrote President Kennedy a lengthy letter requesting information about our military forces. I received a prompt letter from Robert McNamara, his Secretary of Defense, who said he was forwarding me boxes of military information, and photographs per the President’s orders. That was an understatement! Years later I donated all of this military material to a local library which filled up several large sections. On November 22, 1963, I had once again ditched high school, and I was back home alone watching television, when I heard about the assassination of President Kennedy in Dallas, Texas. Like many Americans, it is a day I will always remember. I knew that this represented a major change in the country. On many levels, I experienced numerous changes.
I remember as a teenager in 1962 during the Cuban Missile Crisis, how quickly the local grocery store was empty of groceries and supplies. Most people kept their television tuned to the news which provided an hour by hour update of the impending war with the Soviets. There was fear in the air wherever you went. Daily, we all wondered how imminent the world was to a nuclear war. Any sudden flash of reflection in the sky bought our breathing to a momentary halt and our heart beating so hard we couldn’t hear ourselves think. Our teachers conducted air raid drills where they would suddenly yell, “Drop!” We were expected to kneel under our desks with our hands clutched around our heads and necks. I didn’t believe that the “Duck and cover” method of personal protection against the effects of a nuclear explosion was going to make a difference. It didn’t help that I had black and blue bruises on my knees and forehead hitting the desk from the constant drills. I simply remained seated or standing much to the consternation of the teachers. I took the time to think about how serious this all was and even without a nuclear war, how the world already changed and that it would never be the same. And, the world never was the same.
The counterculture of the ‘60s was an unsurprisingly powerful expression of a desire for cultural change. I felt this intimately, and I responded with deep philosophical thinking. In some ways, I was counter to some elements of the counterculture. Turn on, tune in, and drop out was the theme that inspired many and nearly everyone I knew. I did chew on an unlighted corn cob pipe briefly as a Freshman in high school. Nonetheless, unlike most of my peers, I’ve never smoked cigarettes, marijuana, got drunk or tried any drugs. I did grow my hair long and I still do. Recently I was photographing wildlife at the Colorado River and a Park Ranger briefly glanced at me and said, What can I do for you, ma’am? I scratched my two week’s growth of beard and replied politely, It’s sir, not ma’am. He was embarrassed and apologized. Relatively new to Colorado, I guess men with long hair is a bit uncommon. During the ’60s, I dressed in comfortable Hippy clothes which I continue to do. I’ve photographed at the iconic center of the Flower Power movement at the intersection of Haight and Ashbury streets in San Francisco, California. My current Flower Power consists of a house full of plants while dancing to songs from the ’60s as I nurture the receptive plants with water.
My first car while in high school was a used 1957 Triumph TR10 4-door sedan. I remember my girlfriend’s parents purchased a new Ford Mustang 2-door convertible for her at the cost of around $2,615.00 in 1964 which was considered expensive at the time. I can tell you, given the current monthly payments on my one-year-old Toyota Camry, things have changed.
I recall that in 1965 as a high school Junior, I doubled-dated and we watched the amazing performance of the Beatles at the Hollywood Bowl amphitheatre near Los Angeles. What an unbelievable experience that was! For me, no concert since has come close to the excitement created by the Beatles. Music was changing in many ways and me along with it moving to the momentum and rhythm.
During high school, among the television shows I watched included Perry Mason, Route 66, Ironside, The Benny Hill Show, The Fugitive,77 Sunset Strip, and The Twilight Zone. In 1967 I purchased the first edition of the influential Rolling Stone magazine for 25¢. A rolling stone gathers no moss and neither did I that year.
I graduated from high school in California as the Editor-in-Chief of the newspaper and a varsity track and cross-country runner. I entered my Freshman year in college as the Editor-in-Chief of the campus newspaper. I had so much to look forward to after graduation as a Journalism major! About two years later in 1968, prior to graduation, I was drafted. It was four months after the Tet Offensive during the Vietnam War. No doubt they needed more men on the ground. I held no illusions. I knew that I’d go to Vietnam. I felt that with my gang experience and street smarts I’d be better prepared to embrace a tour of duty in Vietnam, so I never thought about avoiding the draft and having someone else go in my place. The Tet campaign consisted of multiple simultaneous surprise attacks by some 85,000 troops on 100 major cities and towns in South Vietnam. This year, 2018, marks the 50th Tet Offensive anniversary. How fast time seems to accelerate. The decision to fight wars never seems to change.
In the summer of 1969, more than 400,000 people tripped out to the Woodstock music festival in upstate New York for peace-and-love. It was the largest outdoor rock concert ever performed. As a Hippy I would have made my way there. I belonged in that atmosphere! I’d have loved to hear Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, and Jefferson Airplane among others while embracing like-minded people. However, I was stationed in San Antonio, Texas going through the U.S. Army Combat Medic and Medical Laboratory training at Brooke Army Medical Center, Fort Sam Houston. I didn’t have time for the self-indulgence of what I was missing. I needed to concentrate on the medical training since lives would depend on it in Vietnam. Rolling Stone listed Woodstock as one of the 50 moments that changed the history of Rock and Roll. Although I’m certain that being at Woodstock would have changed the course of my life, I wonder if it would have been as fulfilling given the changes I have experienced.
In future posts, I’ll share my experiences of my 14-month U.S. Army tour of duty in Vietnam (as requested by my daughter Kelly) including one of the most significant experiences I had when I volunteered for a combat medic mission in the jungle several hours from our base. I know that with the Vietnam War protests this was a turbulent time of change for people back home. I turned 21 while in Vietnam. My experiences during the war remain the most challenging, intense, powerful, and meaningful time of change in my life.
Music through the Armed Forces Radio Network was our savior. There are several songs I heard in Vietnam that still impact my soul like shrapnel through my heart when I hear them again, and I’m sure other Vietnam Veterans feel the same. The one that was very popular during the middle of my tour is, We Gotta Got out of This Place written by Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil and recorded as a 1965 hit single by The Animals. This song hits me the deepest with the truth that while in Vietnam I wasn’t certain that I would get out of that place. I saw many soldiers who never did leave alive. Perhaps, no one felt confident that they would survive the war. Music gave us the respite from our thoughts and fears. I can’t listen to We Gotta Got out of This Place without reliving some of the more intense experiences in Vietnam and feel the emotions rising. It takes me right back there as if it was yesterday. Click on the link below to hear We Gotta Got out of This Place.
Another song that affected us in Vietnam is, Leaving on a Jet Plane. Written by John Denver in 1966, and picked up by Peter, Paul, and Mary in 1967 for their Album 1700 and released as a single in 1969 – their only No. 1 hit. I thought about leaving on that Freedom Bird and returning home nearly every day of my tour in Vietnam. When that day arrived, and the plane gently lifted off the runway filled with military personnel, there was absolute silence. When the aircraft flew beyond Vietnam airspace everyone spontaneously erupted in thunderous cheers! We smiled at each other in celebration. We survived the war. We were finally heading home. And then, 10,000 miles of reflective silence. There was a lot to think about. I thought about how much I had changed. Again, I lost my innocence. I knew that I was was not the same young man who had arrived in-country 14-months previously. I was older and tougher and younger and more vulnerable. Little did I know how much I changed and that learning this wasn’t the easiest part of returning home. Click on the link below to hear Leaving on a Jet Plane.
When I returned home from Vietnam, it was a culture shock. There were diverse changes in fashions, music, automobiles, attitudes, morality, education, politics, and behavior to mention a few. And of course, the harsh reception from the public towards Vietnam Veterans. It took nearly twenty years before I heard someone say, Welcome Home. Even now when someone reaches out to say thank you for your service, I hesitate before responding to the unfamiliar kindness. Perhaps, other Vietnam Veterans feel the same way. A song that reaches me deeply in a compassionate way is, Where to Have All the Flowers Gone. This song is by the Kingston Trio. I can’t help but think of all the young men and women who never made it home, or returned with horrendous wounds and losses of limbs, not to mention PTSD. I don’t believe any of us fully returned home. I think that each of us left parts of us there during the Vietnam War. Where Have All the Flowers Gone resonates the most in my post-Vietnam years and brings out my strongest philosophical thoughts. I wonder with my heart in my throat and incredulity in my mind, when Will they ever learn? Click on the link below to hear Where Have All the Flowers Gone.
I lived through more than my share of life experiences during the whirlwind decade of the ’60s. And not surprisingly, I remain as always, an unrepentant Hippie following my philosophical and spiritual paths. And still, The Times They Are A-Changin’.
During my first visit to the Vietnam Memorial Wall in 1989 on Veterans Day, it was so intense and inspiring that I decided to write and direct a theatrical play in the surrounding park about the influence of the Vietnam War on those of us who served there and those who remained at home. I contacted the National Park Service to find out what applications were necessary.
I planned to produce, direct, and write a play performed at the wall on Veterans Day 1990. I wrote the play and began searching for the performers. I met someone who became a friend who said she knew former Marine Ron Kovic. During the Vietnam War, he was paralyzed and struggled to understand his sacrifice and become an articulate anti-war activist.
The movie from 1989, Born On The Fourth Of July, directed by Oliver Stone and starring Tom Cruise, Willem Dafoe, and Kyra Sedgwick, depicted the true story of Ron Kovic.
My friend gave me Ron’s phone number, and I called, and he answered the phone. He was friendly and generous with his time. I described what I had in mind for the play and asked his thoughts and feelings about the project. He said that he believed that it was a good idea, and I could feel free to use his name in any supportive way.
I found many professional and amateur people interested in participating. I found a choreographer, musicians, and more.
Unfortunately, I was unable to arrange for the play logistically. Nonetheless, I met many wonderful people, including Ron Kovic, who believed in this theatrical performance and the value of embracing the warriors and people who continued life at home who all struggled with understanding the essence of war.