A Voyage of Conscience
Dear Rudy,
I know your essay contest is over, but driving to work today, I suddenly
realized where I would go if given the chance to go anywhere, anyplace in
time: Arizona State University, the fall semester of 1973.
I was 34, a mother and wife to a career Air Force fighter pilot. I was
returning to college after dropping out years before. My husband had served
in Vietnam, and so had most of our friends and other members of our family.
People were still upset about the war, and comments in college classrooms
were almost always negative. I had reservations about our country's
involvement, so I sat and listened while students and professors railed
against the conflict and vilified those who served. I never revealed that my
husband was in the Air Force.
If I could return to those classrooms, I would stand up and tell everyone
that those who served did not create the war. Those who served hated the war
more than civilians could ever begin to imagine. I would tell them that
calling the men who fought "baby killers" and "napalm lovers" was wrong and
hateful. We have many friends whose names are carved on a black wall in
Washington D.C., and they deserved better than my silence.
Robin
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