The Following Collection of Stories and Letters is Dedicated to the Fallen Soldiers.
–Letters that have been left at the Memorial are in italics–
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Be assured my friend, after the day is done, we will embrace once again to make merry our souls for I am life and you sweet lover are death.
The color guards were standing tall and proud. The flags were flying high. When the music started and the units moved out, the tears flowed, and I found it hard to breathe. The dedication ceremony had officially begun. I saw my son Ryan and his friend Adam carrying our VVA Chapter banner as they have done these last four years, while proudly wearing the Memorial’s colors. I wished I was marching with them, as I’m sure my husband Gary, standing next to me, was also thinking. They looked so fine. We couldn’t help whooping and hollering and jumping up and down, holding onto each other. It was the best!
Carol Holthaus
MVVM Board Member
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I was there the entire weekend with my children. During the name readings, my children joined in to read the names of those who gave all. This is something the three of us will never forget.
The most emotional event that overwhelmed me was after the dedication program. The families of those that gave all were asked to come on stage and speak of their loved ones. I listened for about 15-20 minutes and that was all I could take. Their losses are still very heavy after all these years. The war touched us all in one way or another and we must live on for those that never came back. To the families, I say we love you, to the veterans I say we love you, and to our brothers and sisters that didn’t make it back I say we love you.
Maynard Kaderlik
Vietnam Veteran
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Minnesota Vietnam Veterans Memorial,
Enclosed is a check for fifty dollars for the support of the Minnesota Vietnam Veterans Memorial. It is sent in memory of my nephew Kenneth A. Pederson who gave his life as a marine in Quang Nam Province, Vietnam. Ken was a great guy and is greatly missed by his friends and family.
I attended the dedication of the memorial on Saturday, September 26th. I was impressed with the memorial wall and the program that took place. We shed tears and memories and were very proud of those brave men.
I would like to thank the Board of Directors of MVVM and all the people who made the memorial possible.
Yours truly,
Rolf Opjorden
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During the construction phase, I had been informed that the concrete floor of the memorial was to be poured, so I arrived around 7:00 a.m. to shoot video of the entire process.
It was a calm morning, laden with dew. The sun was just beginning to arm the site when I arrived, and I thought of how nice it would have been to still be in bed. But, entering the construction area, I saw several James Steele employees hard at work and was humbled by their tenacity.
Rich Dagnon walked up and told me that something special happened that morning before I arrived. A vet had buried his medals and some pictures in a very private and personal ceremony. Rich pointed out the man, who was standing on the north rim of the Memorial and suggested that I talk to him.
I introduced myself and immediately felt like an intruder. So, I did my best to assure the man that, while I was interested in his story, I had no intention of cheating his act. It was quite obvious that his honor ran as deep as his pain. We traded stories about the hardships created by our pasts – his in Vietnam and mine elsewhere. It seemed that pain was universal around such a project, so it never took very long to make a connection with anyone associated with the memorial. He gave me his phone number. Then it was time to get to work.
I was perched atop the west rim of the memorial, above where the Wall now stands, as a huge boom began spewing cement onto the earthen floor. The man was standing on the eastern edge of the memorial, watching workers entomb the burial site of his mementos under several inches of cement. I wondered what was going through his mind, unsure of what was going through mine.
I cannot forget the man’s ceremony, both for the simple beauty it embraced and the horrific events it sought to quell. It then occurred to me that most people, probably including myself, thought I signed-on with the memorial to perform a community service. In fact, I was summoned here so that I, too, might heal. I am profoundly grateful to that man for providing the distraction.
Rich Littlefield
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The weekend we dedicated the Vietnam Memorial was most memorable for me. It was exciting, honorable, sad, comforting, and gratifying.
It was exciting to be among the many people celebrating the creation of the beautifully designed memorial.
It was honorable to be chosen to present the flag that covered Gary’s casket.
Sad when our grief resurfaced.
Comforting to see so many paying tribute to their loved ones.
Gratifying to be one of thousands appreciating and acknowledging the many hours the volunteers worked.
The price of the war was high. The memorial gave us a chance to reflect on our grief again and start the closure process.
Mary McCue
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Uncle “Buddy,”
You died when I was just a baby. From the stories I’ve heard, I know we would have been close. I wish I’d had the opportunity to know you.
Love, Jeanne
P.S. War isn’t worth the loss.
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Dear Teresa, Gary L., Gary H., Tom, Sally, Gary W., Carol, Joanna and all the others that have made this Memorial a reality,
Thank you for this monument that will stand as a reminder of so many things.
My daughter and I were able to attend the Dedication Ceremony. It was a day full of emotion — sadness, sharing, saying hello, and good-bye. It took such a long time, and I am very grateful to all of you for making it possible to say, “thank you for the sacrifices you have made for us, we love you still.” Sharing a common loss was reassuring. Our lives went on, but in our hearts, there will always be a sadness.
I am looking forward to visiting the Memorial soon with my husband, our two sons and our daughter. I have shared memories from the past with my children as I wanted to make sure that they will know how precious each life is, to care for others and to truly appreciate the sacrifices that others have made for us. I realized that they have been listening especially when my daughter wrote this poem for her freshman English class.
War
War is evil.
War is sin.
War takes people back again
To the Alamo or Vietnam.
Or the one that started by Saddam.
Yellow ribbons hung on trees.
Staring sadly at tv’s
Families look upon their men
That they may never see again.
Standing at airports waving good-bye.
Praying for the soldiers sake,
There be no need to cry.
You ask me what I think of war?
I pray to God there’ll be no more.
Laura Carolan
Age 14, September 1992
Thank you for making this monument a lasting memorial to those we love.
Sherry Carolan
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One father told me of how his son had spent all his spare time working on his car. He had worked on the car right up to the day he left for Vietnam.
His father continued to work on the car in hopes of having it finished and running when his son returned from Vietnam. The day a new engine went into the car was the day the father heard his son was killed in Vietnam.
Terry Ellgren
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The Memorial is the “Great Amen.” As we pass along our love we also pass on our memories, so the Memorial is endless.
I thought of the Memorial as a gift to John, but it turned out to be a present from John.
The people I met on the committee and all the volunteers were great, always striving for the competition, always seeking perfection in this testimony to their friends and our loved ones.
Then I was given the opportunity to talk about John on Channel 11, and after the show aired, I was so fortunate to receive many calls. Among the calls, I received 4 or 5 from the 173rd Airborne Sky Soldiers. They were so great to me, and they honored our whole family by changing their Chapter to John K Weber Chapter – how lucky I am.
I thank you all. Teresa, my forever friend, you are the binding force of all that happened. Thank you all, also, for giving John and all the men and women on the wall a chance to live on forever.
Kathleen Weber Ross
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To “Our Unforgettable Friends”
To each and every one of you who have helped in making this memorable event come true — I wish to say, “Thank you so very much.”
The days, months, and years have been so very long and cold for my (and your) friends and now at last on our wall, they’ve been given the warmth of their new home.
While looking at and touching their names, the laughter, smiles, and “good times” seemed to dominate my thoughts and memories. At least with me, I share one thing with them, that is most certain, a part of me is lightly etched into that wall.
Now, hopefully, we will be as fortunate with our POW/MIAs.
From all of us to all of you — Thank you.
Sincerely yours,
Gary L. Kreter
Vietnam Veteran
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On Friday a lady came up to me and recited several verses of a poem she had written about her son’s death. You could tell she carried a tremendous amount of guilt over telling her son he had to go to Vietnam and not to Canada. I also knew she had recited the poem hundreds, if not thousands of times, since she knew it entirely from memory. The message was that if she had to do it over again, she would let him decide this time… On Saturday, she was drinking a beer on the Memorial grounds. For just a minute, I thought I should tell her that she couldn’t do that. Then, she apologized and told me how she and her son, the closest of her children, used to sit and talk for hours and drink beer. She was having that one for him… and would leave the can at the Memorial in memory of those times so many years ago. I hope it was comforting to her.
Joanna Koski
MVVM Board Member
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The Dedication Weekend was very spiritual for me personally, but if I had to pick out one thing that set that feeling in motion it was the Native American Ground Blessing Ceremony. Being allowed to be a part of that was truly a great honor. Watching families and friends and veterans hugging and crying together was truly spiritual. Even if you were somebody that came off the street you would have been moved by the emotion.
It made me feel that I was part of something bigger than myself and I let my heart direct me in experiencing all that went on that weekend. From now on when I experience troubled times and am feeling down, I will only have to think and remember that weekend in September 1992.
Richard Bergling
Vietnam Veteran
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On this Veterans Day, 1992, know that we miss you, Tom, and thank you for honoring not only yourself but your family. You will never be forgotten.
Love always,
The family of
Thomas Manderfeld
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It was Sunday, late afternoon.
There had been phenomenal “highs” during the past three days, like when the Memorial cover was pulled back on Friday, and when the color guard came down the mall to “Chariots of Fire” on Saturday.
All too often there had been heartache and pain: During the Sons and Daughters ceremony, listening to Nancy Larson speaking of her brother, and intensely so, as the family members spoke of, and read the names of the men they lost.
But now it was over. There were actually very few people around anymore. The stage and tents were down, and almost all “our” people had left.
I had just walked out of the Memorial and was heading towards the Court of Honor when a girl’s voice called my name. As I turned around Annie Whitewolf came running up to me. She had been crying and she said she needed someone to hug, and I was the only one around that she knew. So, we hugged, and then we talked. She said she had left for home three times already, but she just kept coming back. She talked briefly about her father, and then she started to cry, and then I started to cry. Then I laughed. I laughed because she had made me cry, and I laughed because laughing didn’t hurt as much as crying. We talked for a while longer and then she left for home, again.
During the Dedication Ceremony there had been a great feeling of pride and satisfaction as the crowd stood to applaud the board. There had been much praise, and many ‘thank-yous’ for what we had done. But it was the hug, and the cry, that Annie and I shared, that touched me the most.
Although I really didn’t realize it at the time, it was at that moment, that for me, the Memorial ceased to be a physical project, and became instead a place charged with emotion. A place where years of pent-up pain and sorrow could be expressed, and shared, and perhaps, even understood.
Gary Wisbar
Vietnam Veteran
MVVM Board Member
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First, I want to thank MVVM for doing such a great job and allowing VVA Chapter 470 to participate in many of the dedication ceremonies.
There have been many memorable moments for me associated with this Memorial over the past couple years. It was a challenge to place the 1,072 American flags in the shape of Minnesota on the MVVM site for the first groundbreaking ceremony. Another fond memory is that of helping Sally Adams out at the billboard. I will never forget Bill Popp going up on the billboard to present Sally with a check for $50,000.
However, I believe the most rewarding time for me was being able to help out Nancy Larson. Nancy’s brother Verle Larson was killed in action on August 5th, 1969. On Sunday of Dedication Weekend, our chapter was taking down Verle’s flag to present to his family. I was standing next to her when she ran out of film. I was not aware that she was Verle’s sister until she introduced herself. I told her I was with the VVA Chapter 470, and I would gladly send her copies of the pictures I had taken.
The Memorial Dedication will always be a memorable event for me and also for the Chapter 470. Thanks again for a job well done.
Barrie L. Daker
Vietnam Veteran
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Although I came late to the party, I’m very blessed that I had an opportunity to work with and serve my colleagues in the fundraising component of this project. The weekend saw years of effort for all of you and months of effort for me to come together in a positive culmination of an event that took place two decades ago. The camaraderie and bonding gave me an attachment that I continually need. The whole is always greater than the sum of its parts, and the interaction I felt Saturday and Sunday as I watched the colleagues, I had come to know during this project was gratifying. It’s rewarding to be a part of the positive end of such a destructive era in our lives. We have contributed to the building of something significant. All these men are important, and they will be remembered through eternity.
Thank you for an association that is as much a part of me as waking up in the morning. The 48 hours involved in the final five years of effort will both be long noted and much remembered. Thank you.
Peter Bartling
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It’s hard to pick just one part of the weekend that stands out more than the others.
I met two friends of Kenny Arvidson’s. We shared the memory of our great friend. We talked about the good times, and we shared a pencil as we traced his name on the wall. It still hurts!
What struck me the most was when the family members talked about their loved ones. I know a great majority died saving their buddies. That struck me… it made me happy, and it made me cry.
My life and the lives of my children have been enriched beyond measure by the people who are on the MVVM. Thank you!
Diane Wutsch
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I came home from Vietnam in March of ‘71. I never joined any Vets organizations or groups. I talked about being in Vietnam to a few people but never really discussed what it was like or my experiences. Like so many others I just tried to put it behind me and get on with my life.
Then in September of ‘91, Sally went up on a billboard in Forest Lake. I could see her from my office. After a few days of watching the activities at the billboard, I decided to go check it out. The first two people I met were Sally and Teresa. What a reception!!! I continued going to the billboard and started attending the MVVM monthly meetings.
It was at one of these monthly meetings that I first met John Staads of the 173rd Airborne from my Brigade in Nam. Through John, I met some more of the guys from the Herd and started getting involved with the 173rd Color Guard. I had finally met some guys who were experiencing the same repressed feelings and thoughts I was, even after all these years. I really look forward to getting together with these guys whenever I can.
Thru my involvement with the Memorial, I have also had the great pleasure of meeting the Stricklin family. I had the great honor of being the Gold Star Mother escort for Eunice Stricklin for the Dedication Weekend. Her son Tom was killed in Nam, and I found out that weekend that he also was with the 173rd Airborne. During the unveiling ceremony, with Tom’s casket flag in my arms, I turned to face the wall and salute. As I was saluting, I saw Tom Stricklin’s name right there in front of me. It was without a doubt the toughest part of the Dedication Weekend for me. I am very grateful that I have had the chance to meet the Stricklins. I feel as though we will be lifelong friends.
When I started attending the MVVM meetings I was overwhelmed at the amount of work that a handful of people had accomplished. I could see a few more Vets getting involved as time went on and I thought to myself, “The healing that the Memorial is intended for has already started without waiting for the dedication.”
Just being involved has helped me out a lot, and I have met a lot of incredible people I normally would not have had the opportunity to encounter.
Thank you, everyone, for what you have done for me and my fellow Nam Vets.
Arlen R. Johnson
Vietnam Veteran
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The Memorial is a memory in itself. It’s filled with so much LOVE. It’s a place to come to start the healing process — to LOVE — to let go… Every time I’m there…it all comes back…
The T-shirt shack at the ‘Taste’.
Billboard Sally
The early AM — never-ending meetings.
In comes VOICE MAIL – “Hi everybody, this is Teresa…”
My first message – “thanks Tom..”.
Friday — the hustling…
Gold Star Mothers and Wife…
The Unveiling…Oops!
Teresa’s facial expression — lack of control — but only momentarily.
“Tears in Heaven”…
173rd Airborne… Thank you again and again and again…
The Main Stage…Where is everybody?…the nuts and bolts…putting it up…
Thank you, Keith, Tom, Dick Casper, and all volunteers…then, taking it down.
“Chariots of Fire”
The people — oh God, the people…
Tears, many tears…
Hugs, stories… some too personal to tell.
The flyover — thanks to Rock…
Glenn’s smiling face, even when some of us weren’t smiling…
Gary on his Cushman…
“The Young Dead Soldiers”
Anver Larson’s brother…
Tom — thanks for letting me join your family, and for letting me share your dream. I love you.
Gary and Carol, this Memorial was built for Love. You two are special.
Hannigans…
Joanna’s smile.
Gary and Mary…the definition of patience.
Bill and Teri Popp.
Teresa… your family… thanks for starting the healing process for so many…
To all Vietnam vets – “Welcome Home…”
Minnesota the home state you were from.
Everything that you once had – but have since given up.
Memories you have given us…both the happy and the sad.
Often times thinking of “Am I like my Dad?”
Reluctance – Questions of: Why us, why you, why me?
God, help our prisoners of that war — Help them to be free.
“I Love You” that you will never hear again –
Knowing that the love for you is coming from within.
Accepting that you’re gone but with this Wall
your memories will live on and on and on.
Love …it will never go away.
We love you. We miss you. You’re in our hearts to stay.
Melanee Lynch
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Being a banner carrier in the march was definitely my most memorable moment. As soon as the music started, and the procession moved forward, chills ran down my spine. It was a rush.
Ryan Holthaus
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Don, I got you a B-day gift – a cheeseburger and a orange. Craig
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One of our members, Barrie Daker, was ill and was unable to take part in ceremonies with the Chapter even though he badly wanted to. I knew Barrie felt bad about not being able to do the activities with us. We felt bad for Barrie… On Sunday Barrie arrived before closing and was sitting on a chair near the stage. Our chapter formed up, we were in our color guard uniforms, and marched in a single file towards Barrie. At first Barrie raised his camera to take a photo, thinking perhaps that we were opening a ceremony, then he realized that wasn’t the case and a look of confusion crossed his face. I shouted the commands to halt, then a right face towards Barrie, then a loud PRESENT ARMS and 15 members gave Barrie a SALUTE, then we went over to shake his hand. He was very touched by our gesture, and we were touched as well. It fit right in with what was happening that weekend at the Memorial as people came together in love and compassion. I’ll never forget Dedication Weekend. It will always be a special memory for me.
Mike Clark
Vietnam Veteran
VVA 470, Anoka County
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The Memorial Dedication meant many things to me and brought many emotions with it. It did feel like I was bringing my brother Chuck home. I have always been so proud of him, and now others can see his name and know he gave the ultimate sacrifice — his life. It was comforting and consoling to be surrounded by veterans of that war and other families who had lost loved ones.
Early Sunday morning at the Memorial I ran into an acquaintance I have known for several years. I vaguely recalled that I had known that at one time he had been a “career man.” But we had never discussed his years in the service. He had completed two tours in Vietnam. It had taken him two hours to get to the plaza near the wall. He was feeling overwhelmed but also relieved. His tours in Vietnam were something he had never talked about and had not shared any experiences with anyone including his wife. On that beautiful crisp Sunday morning his experiences in Nam poured out. He couldn’t bring himself to leave. He kept being drawn back to the wall. How honored I felt that I had been there to hear his heart talk about his Nam experiences and that we had found such a meaningful experience to share. We both opened our hearts to each other, where else but at the Memorial.
I thank God that I was able to share in such a beautiful, moving experience that whole weekend. Welcome home, Chuckie.
Carolyn Bevan
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I remember when a friend of mine told me in seventh grade that Bob O’Toole’s brother had been killed in Vietnam. It was at this moment that Vietnam became real to me and created a sadness that was never to leave. I had no way of knowing this would be my initial inspiration for the Memorial.
After the dedication ceremony on Saturday, I looked across the pool in front of the Veteran’s Service Building and there was Bob O’Toole standing in line waiting to read the name of his brother, George Patrick O’Toole. Many years had gone by since we had been in junior high. I had never discussed with Bob the impact that his brother’s death had on me. I had seen Bob several times over the years, but I could never tell him about my involvement with the Memorial. It all just seemed too sad.
When he came down off the steps after reading his brother’s name, we greeted each other with a hug. We looked in each other’s eyes and spoke briefly about the impact we have on each other’s lives, sometimes never even knowing it. Bob’s love for his brother had not diminished during the past 24 years. He spoke of how his brother was the most positive and uplifting person he had ever known.
Several days later I received in the mail from Mrs. O’Toole a card that was used at George Patrick O’Toole’s funeral. On the front was his picture. It was a remarkable moment finally seeing the face of someone whom I had never even met, who had died so many years ago, who had changed my life forever.
Teresa Vetter
MVVM President
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After a week short of sleep because of excitement and anxiety, I went to the Capitol in St. Paul to participate in the MVVM Dedication Weekend. It was quiet when I arrived about 9:30 a.m. on Friday. I remarked to someone that it was the “lull before the storm” … and so it was.
A couple of the adult volunteers I had talked to were already there, looking for ways to help. The tents and stages were in piles. Boxes and materials were strewn about on their way to their destinations. I toured the area trying to figure out how I could be most useful. I clipped a radio to my belt — I was in the network. I moved some stuff into the Command Center RV, my home for the next two days. I found a couple small planning tasks. Using my tape measure, I laid out the lines for the chairs, and the spaces for the vendors. I talked to the early arrivals. I then went to Sears for lumber crayons.
Around me I noticed people starting to arrive, as my own speed intensified. Thinking, thinking, trying to make some priorities, not much help right now… no hurry yet. A small crowd began to gather for the unveiling ceremony. I helped a guy in a truck set off some barricades. We closed Constitution Avenue half an hour late. The booths for food had already been set up right in the traffic. Somehow, it had now begun.
Getting used to the walkie-talkie – “Where is Teresa?” “Where is Tom?” “Does anyone have a staple gun?” “There are some people at the command center. Glenn, can you come help them find something to do?”
The Unveiling Ceremony began. The chiefs talked. The Gold Star Mothers talked about their sons. The covering was raised. It was the first moment! A silence. We were almost stunned by its beauty and strength.
“Who’s got that staple gun?”
In the evening there was a vigil in the Memorial, people reading names and talking about their lost son or husband or brother or father. Somehow, I hadn’t expected the talking – but they had waited all these years to celebrate the honor and valor of their deaths, to talk about their loved one to someone who was listening, someone who cared and understood.
Meanwhile, Larry and I set about getting the RV Command Center hooked up. Power wasn’t too hard, but we had to mess around to go get LP gas… I was getting very tired. We all met around 6:00 p.m. to de-brief and reassess our needs for Saturday. The assessment: it’s going well but there’s much to do. Good to be together for a few minutes. Most had some concern or adjustments to plan.
Saturday morning came cloudy, looking ready to rain, and soon there was a light splattering of drops. No matter, we had to carry on, and we did… Hopeful that the predicted end of the rain would prove to be true. And eventually it was.
Meanwhile, the first to appear were a couple groups of girl scouts who began setting up chairs and other equipment. The stage was proving to be a source of tension… too much to do, and more exciting than expected. An emergency call for help from an expert was required and it still took all morning.
I continued my relentless cruising, trying to help wherever it was most needed. Gradually it all came together, converging toward the main ceremony to begin at 1:45 with the Color Guard march. For me it was intense and frantic trying to make the most of the quick decisions; sending helpers here and there; making sure the important stuff got done. Checking my traffic control, I posted the Junior ROTC students to various duties, looked it all over for problems and hang-ups, then got together several dozen uniformed youths to line the parade routes. The crowd grew and grew all the while. Soon one could hardly move about.
The moment approached. The bands came and went. The hour so long-awaited arrived. “Chariots of Fire” played on the loudspeakers and the march began. I was close to the start, on Constitution, and it was overwhelming for me — they passed within a few yards. Amazingly, the day went off perfectly and smoothly. Then things shifted to the families reading, talking, sharing about their KIA’s and MIA’s. This turned out to be one of the most powerful parts of the whole ceremony.
Sunday dawned clear, and I had one of my most memorable views of the weekend when I stood in the cool stillness of the morning and watched the sun rise and reflect from the pools and walls of the Memorial. As the people gathered for the flag-raising, Larry Adams and I pursued an earthlier goal…emptying the trash boxes. Some boxes had disintegrated with moisture. We were fortunate that the task was not large. As on previous days, people appeared wanting to help… children and youths, adults, families, and scout groups. They helped with ribbons and programs, and putting things away, like chairs. The day wound down to a close in the early afternoon, and, just as Bernie Steele had predicted, hands to help clean up were mostly ours. Fortunately, the clean-up was not a huge task. People had been careful and courteous.
I was ready to be alone and think it all over. When the last few tables, barricades, boxes, and tents were packed up, I left for Rochester at 6pm with a warm feeling in my heart.
Glenn Heins
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To my dearest brother,
It has been 21 years since you died, 23 years since I have seen you. And yet it is all as clear as if it had been yesterday. Rarely does a day go by that I don’t have some memory. I may die soon if they can’t get this condition under control. But I am 43. You were only 19.
I try to imagine what you would be like now. Who you would be, what you would have become, what you would be doing, but I can’t. I can only imagine you at 17 years old when I last saw you. You will always be my kid brother. I remember the hopes and dreams you had. How excited you were about getting accepted to college as soon as you came back home but you never came home. You never got to experience the life you deserved. And we never got to experience you as a man.
Your nephew, your namesake, my son, is now 20 years old. You would like him – I can envision you two having deep philosophical discussions. He has always had the same curiosity for the meaning of life. He writes too! Just like you did. And the only experience he has had of you is dealing with seeing the pain your death has caused me. And then there is your niece. She has your excitement for living on the edge. For not allowing any grass to grow under your/her feet. She is now 16. You would love her. And you would probably be her greatest ally and defender! She hasn’t hopped freights like you, but she has done much of the modern-day equivalent. Kent, the only way that I’ve been able to have any concept of you is through my own children.
Kent, if you were able to come back today, I know you would be embarrassed by the memorials. But Kent, they are much needed by those who are still here… those who came back, and those who lost loved ones. I had visited the one in DC once and had wished I could go back. Now, though, the Minnesota “Wall” is done, and I have a place to go and try to find some sense of peace and comfort. Hopefully I will be able to put some things to rest. Only time will tell, but I know this Memorial will help.
Kent, I miss you so much. There was so much of life I wanted to share with you. I saved all your letters. Shortly after you died, I wore your army jacket and pins, and someone stole them so all I have are your letters. But I am glad you wrote them. I will continue to cherish them.
You are missed. You are loved. You will always be close to me in my heart. I will always cherish my memories of you, my darling brother.
Your loving sister, Char
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War requires the supreme sacrifice – in many cases, the lives of our youngest. And, thankfully, Minnesota has recognized the sacrifices of the over 1,110 Minnesotans who died or who have not returned yet from Vietnam. The Minnesota Vietnam Veterans Memorial was dedicated, and they came. Veterans and families and friends came and said all those things they didn’t say before the war. They came to share pictures, letters, songs, poems, thoughts, feelings, and stories of real people who hadn’t their full measure of life. We saw children who never saw their dads… We saw pain that is still at the surface after all these years.
Yes, sometimes war is unavoidable, but the price is steep and must never be forgotten. We owe a large debt to those who fell… and the broken families they left behind. I applaud the citizens of Minnesota who steadfastly pursued this memorial. Let’s hope it offers peace to the families of the fallen and continually reminds us all that those who served in all wars preserved freedom for each of us.
Eugene R. Andreotti
U.S. Army Major General
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It seems that 1992 is the year in which Vietnam is finally, fully absorbed into our consciousness.
It’s the year in which progress is finally made in the search for Vietnam MIA’s, the year in which two Vietnam generation survivors achieve the highest political offices in the land, and the year in which Minnesota builds and dedicates its long overdue tribute to those who served and those who died in the war.
Vietnam may never command our attention so completely again, and that’s alright, because it will never be so completely forgotten again. The telling of the story of the building of the Minnesota Vietnam Veterans Memorial was one of those rare opportunities to do something professionally that truly reflects how I feel personally.
As a Vietnam era veteran who opposed the war then and now, it was the chance to note and acknowledge and correct the mistake made by so many of us at the time.
We forgot that our disagreement with the policy did not require a condemnation of our contemporaries who volunteered or were drafted into implanting that policy.
It was a delight to travel across this state shooting interviews and finding so many who were hawks or doves 20 years ago, now quite comfortable standing side-by-side under the bronze eagle at the Memorial.
There are emotions and reunions that none of us can properly put into words, but finally a dedicated group of volunteers has put them into granite and limestone.
Journalists, by our nature, must stand apart and observe. In this case, we are applauding as we watch.
Allen Constantini
KARE 11 News
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Dear Gonzalo,
I can’t believe its been twenty years. Our time spent together was so short, yet the memory of you, and our time spent together grows ever deeper in my heart.
Remember how I pleaded with you not to go? For just weeks before meeting you I buried a good friend and classmate (Mike Dunkle). You wiped the tears from my eyes that night and assured me you’d be back! Six months later you were sent from Vietnam to Texas for burial. After twenty-three years I now have a place to come to, to feel a oneness with you.
Seeing your name was most painful, and yet, I feel a peace I’ve not known in all these years. It’s as if a part of you has finally come home to Minnesota.
Gonzalo, till we meet again in Christ, remember I love you!
Judy
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Mark Twain was quoted as saying: “All you need in this life is ignorance and confidence, and then success is sure.” Isn’t this the way our efforts towards building the Minnesota Vietnam Veterans Memorial begun? Because we were too naïve to know if the rocky road ahead of us and if the many pitfalls we would encounter along the way, this diverse group of people would persevere until the Memorial became a reality. Because we didn’t know the task was unsurmountable for such as grass roots start, we kept plugging along, figuratively “picking ourselves up and brushing ourselves off” again and again – and pushing onward until we reached our goal! My family has an often-used expression: “Too stupid to quit!” “Perseverance” would be a more refined term, but the results are the same.
We PERSEVERED! WE DID IT! We never accepted defeat and, because of our efforts and our gathering strength from one another, we were successful in giving Minnesotans this beautiful, meaningful, Vietnam Veterans Memorial.
Dedication Saturday was truly an unforgettable day for me. Sharing it with my (veteran) son and his family, I felt a tremendous sense of pride in having been a part of the Memorial dream and witnessing the culmination of it. Somewhat overwhelmed by the huge crowd, my son said to me, “This is the first time in 25 years that anyone has publicly said ‘thanks’ for our efforts while serving in Vietnam. I didn’t know they cared.” I thought, as he said this, “We care… we care, and I think today is the long overdue ‘coming home’ for all of the Vietnam veterans, not only for those whose names are on the wall, but for many returned vets who need to know how much we care!”
Lill Hetchler
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Dear Directors,
I’m writing because I want you to know how much Saturday’s Dedication Ceremony meant to me, and to thank you for making the Memorial a reality.
I did not lose a family member or friend in the war. Actually, I thought I was far removed from it… spending those war years attending college, raising a family, holding a job. I really wasn’t a part of it. Yet I discovered how much a part of the war I was, or it was of me.
Almost nightly I watched the fighting, both that taking place in Vietnam and here at home. I saw the bombing, the killing, the lives of my generation being taken or changed both in Vietnam and at home. I watched. I listened. I read. Trying to understand, to make sense out of what was happening. In the last several years, I’ve re-read, re-watched, listened again still trying to understand.
Saturday, I felt somewhat like an intruder as I entered the Memorial, intruding into someone’s private grief and memories. I cried that day. Tears I didn’t know were there. Tears for all those names on the granite. Tears for all those gray-haired moms and dads. Tears for our country which suffered greatly in those years.
I know I’ll go back to the Memorial when I can. There is an irresistible draw there.
So — thank you again for your dedication and insight. As strange as it seems, we need a place to cry and to heal.
Pam Hoffman
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I joined the Army right out of high school in 1967. I knew I couldn’t afford college, and I knew I was going to be drafted. I went to basic training and helicopter maintenance school and was assigned to Vietnam.
I arrived in Vietnam in January of 1968 right at the time of the TET Offensive. I was assigned to a helicopter unit under the 25th Infantry Division at Cu Chi which is just northwest of Saigon. Didn’t see much direct combat. I mainly flew a lot and worked on the Hueys and their weapon systems. Besides flying, the most danger we were in was when we were hit with mortars or 122mm rockets at night. One night we were hit so many times that I stopped running to the bunker. I put my flak jacket on backwards and my helmet on my face and went back to sleep. I guess I needed my sleep more than my safety.
When I left Vietnam, we were pretty much ignored for our service except for my family. I was then assigned to a unit in Pennsylvania to work on Chinook helicopters. Most of the time we were doing many other duties not related to our MOS’s. One of these duties was funeral details mostly for men who died in Vietnam. It was a satisfying duty in the sense of what else could you do for a family who lost a loved one in combat in Vietnam. At most of these funerals we were treated very well by the families and townspeople. They really seemed to care about us.
I reenlisted in the Army in 1970 and our whole unit was reassigned to Ft. Meade, Maryland outside of Washington D.C. There we were on a lot of riot control duty protecting the government from those “Vicious Flower Children.”
I spent my last three years out of a total of ten in Germany where I decided to get out of the Army. While there I took night classes and when I got out, I went to a commercial photographer’s school. I have been a photographer for the last 13 years. I never thought too much about Vietnam since I left, but just a few weeks ago before the Memorial Dedication a friend of mine made me aware of the impending dedication of the Memorial. For some reason I jumped on this event like it was the most important job I had ever done. It was really great after all these years to be included in something that had really started for me 24 years earlier.
I really want to thank all my fellow Viet Vets and all the volunteers who worked on the Minnesota Vietnam Veterans Memorial. It was very cathartic for me to face the past in such a positive way. I never felt so much love and respect as I did that weekend!
My special thanks to Teresa Vetter whose special talents, caring, and tenacity made this special and beautiful monument possible.
In the German language the word for monument is “denkmal.” The English translation is “think again.”
Tony Evans
Vietnam Veteran
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The Dedication weekend was one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. Everything was so special and so moving.
The most memorable part of the weekend for me was when Gary and I picked up the memorabilia left at the wall over the weekend.
Kneeling down, going from panel to panel and seeing the wreaths, the flowers, pictures, cards, pins, but most of all, the letters and notes left to the casualties were so very touching.
A sister wrote “After 23 years I now have a place to come to, to feel a oneness with you. Seeing your name was most painful, and yet I feel a peace I’ve not known in all these years. It’s as if a part of you has finally come home to Minnesota.”
Another sister wrote, “Kent, I miss you so much. There was so much of my life I wanted to share with you. I saved all your letters. Shortly after you died, I wore your army jacket and pins, and someone stole them, so all I have are your letters.”
On the name rubbing sheets were written: To David Hughes/Wayne Kellerman “We sure had fun in school. Think of you when all of us get together.” From the great class of Richfield 1964.
To Ronald Matel – “To the best baseball catcher from Duluth.”
To Thomas Rostano – “We both went, I came home. You died for what? I’ll never forget you.”
To Lars P. Hustad “Happy birthday” 9-27-92.
To Ronnie Teshendorf, “I made it, you didn’t, and you were so close, just a few hours. I am so sorry.”
It was these emotions expressed by the family and friends of the casualties which made this whole experience so memorable and rewarding.
Mary Wisbar
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On vacation up North a few years ago, I met a woman who noticed my MVVM jacket. We started talking. She told us about her son who was killed in Vietnam and the effect it has had on her family. Tears were shed and we talked for a long, long time.
During the difficult times these last five years when I’ve felt like quitting it all, I thought of that meeting. This was the reason the Memorial was needed. Everything was back in perspective.
Dedication weekend I ran into this beautiful, courageous woman at the wall.
And I thought of my son.
Carol Holthaus
MVVM Board Member
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With great anticipation I looked forward to the groundbreaking ceremony for MVVM. This event symbolized the realization of a goal diligently worked toward by many dedicated people.
During the program a gentleman and I were discussing the Memorial. He had driven two and a half hours with his elderly neighbors just to hear their son’s name (Darrell Spindler) being read from the casualty list. With astonishment, I showed him my POW/MIA bracelet. Darrell and his family had been in my heart and prayers for years – praying for his return and continued faith and strength for his family. The gentleman introduced me to Darrell’s parents who were touched that I continued to keep faith in their son. We embraced, cried, and talked – building a strong common bond for the short time we had spent together.
Two years lapsed between the groundbreaking and the MVVM Dedication.
While I was greeting and assisting visitors at the ceremony, the Spindlers sought me out. We renewed the original spirit and relationship. They introduced me to their relatives, taking pictures and videos.
This family’s love, endurance, and strength made an indelible impression upon my heart. No matter how much time passes, the anguish, loneliness, and memories of losing a loved one to war’s abyss never truly subsides.
Janet Krmpotich
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Oct 3, 1992
Even though I was too young during the Vietnam war to remember first-hand what happened, I want to thank you. Your efforts and loss of life and friends are finally being recognized in Minnesota. I can only have great respect for you. I am 21 years old now and you were probably younger than me when you went over. How scared you must have been and yet at the same time you must have felt pride for what you were doing. I will not forget what you did for me and the rest of this country. Thank you.
Carrie
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I have been forever changed by “THAT WEEKEND.” It is an absolute and complete mystery as to how the sum total changed my way of thinking – feeling – being. It is difficult to place a value on or with any one person or event. It all starts with my former paratrooper buddies of the SSgt John K Weber Chapter of the 173rd Airborne Society. We are different men from different walks of life just like we were different boys from different walks of life over 20 years ago. The support extended to one another in healing pain from the past continues on to extending support to heal the pain caused by more recent events in our lives.
At first, I had some detached interest in the MVVM primarily because I felt I had not done enough 25 years ago to be deserving of anything more. My interest grew by sponsoring the name of a brother of a friend of mine. My interest intensified through my association with my 173rd buddies. The passion grew when I took part in laying sod. It became intense when our 173rd was asked to be the honor guard and Gold Star Mothers’ escorts on the day of unveiling. We had the opportunity to speak with the Gold Star Mothers and Wife. Many of us hugged them and wept for their loss and our survival. They in turn validated our surviving and that it was okay. The Sons and Daughters In-Touch spoke. After the last had spoken, we were invited to come and speak with them – invited to hug them – because we would be hugging our fallen buddies. What I found, in my case, was that they consoled me rather than I consoling them. What a wonderful group of young people.
In preparation for the parade, it was exciting to see General Westmoreland and General Vessey. It was good of them to come and to inspect and talk to each group. They even took part in our prayer before the grand parade. It was a proud moment to once again march and be with so many comrades on such a magnificent day.
Dean Stricklin had a profound impact on me. He, through his talk, brought me to the brink of really “coming home” by his speaking for and through his deceased brother, Thomas G. Stricklin. I am eternally grateful to Dean Stricklin and his mother for what they had done for me and so many more.
Each of us brought home a cross to bear in only the way we would know. A lot of pain and wounds came back with us from Vietnam. When we are young, we may not know the reasons for those who live and those who die. I don’t know that we will ever understand. I do know that many of us thought…felt, that there had to be a purpose. Not knowing the purpose, we created our own purpose and became driven men. And sometimes this can be, and has been, self-destructive. What happened “THAT WEEKEND?” A lot of people gave me permission to have survived and be alive. People who had lost the most from our war told me that “being” was more important than “doing.”
I left a wounded ghost of a boy at the MVVM along with his baggage on 27 September 1992. Ironically it was 25 years to the day when I left Vietnam. I walked away as a more intact man. I will return to visit the magnificent memorial from time to time and the hallowed ground. I will take people there. I will take my sons there. I will visit my wounded boy, but always leave healed as “THAT WEEKEND” did for me.
In closing I want to say that I am at peace with myself and with my world. Up until now I never said that I was thankful for the day, and that I was glad to be alive. Since 27 September 1992 I have not missed a day when I did not say “It’s a great day. Thank you. I’m glad to be alive.”
Most Sincerely,
Dave Nordon
Vietnam Veteran
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You asked people to put down in writing special things that happened during Dedication Weekend. Well, I can’t do that because you see the whole time was special. The times we cried. The times we laughed. I will never forget. There will always be a special place, in my heart, for everybody.
Jim Wendt
Vietnam Veteran
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I want to thank all the people who did the work in getting our beautiful MVVM built. To honor all the boys, or should I say young men – a place of honor near our State Capitol where it is just as great as the one in Washington D.C. Now Gold Star parents, wives, and families can see our Memorial. I know a lot of families cannot afford to go to the one in Washington D.C.
I know my son’s flag is in the right place flying over the heads of all our young men who served their country with honor.
Thanks again to the 173rd Airborne Brigade – the Gold Star Mothers’ and Wife escorts. John Brown was my escort. He was with me all three days when he could.
Many, many thanks to all again for our MVVM.
Grace Bursaw
Gold Star Mother of son Clarence H. Bursaw, Minneapolis, Marine Corps
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YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE!!!!!
Thousands of people took the time to see what the Vietnam Wall looked like. Believe it or not, all of them are still talking about the results of the BLOOD, SWEAT, and TEARS and how it could end up in something to be proud of. Sure, I was proud, and still am, not just because my son’s name was on that wall, but because he and the others were receiving long overdue recognition for the sacrifices that they made.
Not one complaint was heard about the weather, or the crowded conditions, all were engrossed in the awe-inspiring simplicity and deep emotions caused by the creative planning of this Memorial.
You are very fortunate. You can go and pay a visit in your own time! The inspiration you will receive is worth your time. See you there.
Bob Jensen
Gold Star Father
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In memory of Phillip Edward Taylor, killed in action in Vietnam–
He has been called home, to God our father –
He sleeps in Christ; our Lord.
Let us pray that we may arise with him, in glory, on the Last Day.
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When I pause to reflect on the number of moving moments I had during the Dedication Weekend at the Minnesota Vietnam Veterans Memorial, they are numerous, but here are two.
Saturday evening…after the twelve thousand people – after all the speeches – after all the moments shared listening to loved ones talking of their supreme losses (mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, sons, daughters, wives, friends) after all the tears and shoulder shaking sobs, I found myself standing in the darkness at the Memorial with a few close friends, Dan Sandstrom among them. There were perhaps a couple dozen people now. Someone was reading names of the dead when I suddenly had an idea. I talked to the woman who was handling the procession of people at the microphone. This woman thought it was a good idea. And when my turn came, I stepped to the microphone and pulled out my harmonica from my pocket, and in that precious valuable stillness I played “taps” as beautifully sweet as I possibly could.
The next morning, I was part of a flag-raising ceremony for Verle Larson. Verle’s sister Nancy had asked me to sing. I sang a song that I wrote especially for Verle and the Larson family. Little did I think when I learned to play the guitar on a lonely outpost in Vietnam that I would someday be able to bring some meaning and comfort to the family of a casualty of the war. For that experience alone — the pain and hardship I endured– was worth it all. I had survived somehow to be the singer at those precious moments for the family. How utterly beautiful.
Jerry Rau
Vietnam Veteran
Minnesota Folk Singer
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A young lady stepped forward and held out her arms to cradle the scars and fire of a war-torn battle flag of the Vietnam War. She held the pain and sorrow found in an American casket that draped our fallen. She held the pride earned in a metal helmet worn by young patriots.
As she stood and faced the people, Vietnam Veterans entered one by one with a single rose to reverently place in the helmet. They saluted the flags, the helmet, and the lady who had fought so hard to honor them, for she held our memorial.
We could find no way to thank her enough, only in our hearts as we walked night vigils at the wall years later on cloudy monsoon nights, for years to come… Until and forever after they all come home.
Tom Schepers,
Vietnam Veteran
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My highlight of the Dedication Weekend centered on the flag-raising on Sunday morning in memory of my brother, Verle Larson.
I hesitated from taking the job on because I already felt overwhelmed with other responsibilities. I wanted to honor Verle and his memory, but I wanted to have the time and the energy to do it right. As a result of that supposedly 30 minutes, I received so many blessings above and beyond what I will ever experience again in my life. I wanted music for the service. As a result, I got to know Jerry Rau who wrote a most incredible song just for that morning. Jerry is very sensitive, compassionate, and a talented man who I’m very glad to have met. I also had the opportunity to meet two other musicians, Ken Sherman and Randy LaMora who also put so much heart and caring into the program. In arranging for a Color Guard to raise my brother’s flag, I started with the Auxiliary who sponsored Verle’s name. As a result, I met a very special group of Vietnam Veteran’s from Cambridge, my home area. I also met some very special men from Chapter 470 in Anoka who had taken Verle’s flag down at the three-day Dedication Closing on Sunday afternoon. One 470 member, Barrie Daker, very generously took pictures of that ceremony and shared them with us.
I had also hesitated to take part in the program because I was not sure if my family could handle it. Each of us had tried to deal with Verle’s death in our own way. We never spoke his name. He had become the invisible thorn. We loved him but could not bear to talk about him. The response from my family, that day, was unbelievable. It truly brought some healing, sharing, renewing, and acquainting I would not have believed possible.
My very, very personal highlight of the weekend was witnessing a free-spirited, single Monarch Butterfly dance around me while I delivered Verle’s program. The heavens really opened up that day with ideal weather and the presence of an “ANGEL.” To me, Verle was there, I will never forget that!
Nancy Larson
MVVM Volunteer
because of a very special brother, Verle
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On Sunday, as the Dedication was coming down from the ultimate high and we were taking down the products booth, a young man and his girlfriend approached us. He inquired about what we had had for sale during the weekend, apologizing about showing up so late, and also not having available the funds for the purchase of them. He was a Gulf War vet and had lost a good friend in Nam.
I asked what his size was and after digging through a few boxes, came up with his size in the “Remember Us” t-shirt. I gave him the shirt telling him it was a gift from me as one vet to another. As he looked at the shirt, his eyes welled up with tears and he just plain broke down. Grabbing hold of me, he just let it all go.
As the three of us stood there hugging each other in the middle of the street, his girlfriend explained that he had had problems related to the war and was undergoing counseling. Thanking me over and over and sobbing all the time, he kept asking for my name and address so he could send me the money later, but I assured him it was a gift from me to him.
This is what this Memorial really means. A place of healing for all vets from all wars, families or whoever. Hopefully the healing will start for some here and end for others.
Gary Holthaus
Vietnam Veteran
MVVM Board Member
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My story is about contacting Ted Prather. Ted is the brother of Christopher Prather who died in Vietnam and whose name is on the MVVM Wall. I went to school with Chris at Patrick Henry High School, and although we were in different classes, we had common interests and spent some time together before I enlisted in the Army after school. After I got out of the service, Chris went in. He died after about three months in Vietnam. I knew his two brothers but did not have a need to keep in touch. His father had died long ago, and his mother was always working as a nurse to support the family.
When I received your notice of the dedication and unveiling of the Memorial, I was about to complete the fact sheet that was enclosed concerning Chris Prather because I had sponsored his name a few months earlier right after I participated with my group at the Thunderbird Hotel fundraiser in Bloomington. I located Ted Prather in the phone book and told him that the background sheet you sent should be completed by a family member. Ted had no information concerning the activities of the Memorial and was grateful to be notified of the completion of the memorial and the dates that were scheduled. I met with him, and he told me that a lot had changed since we were all students in North Minneapolis. Ted had been recently divorced. He had gone back to his old home to recover some of his personal possessions that he had stored there. He found that everything had been taken away. He no longer had Chris’s burial flag or Purple Heart Medal. He also had no other photos or remembrances of his brother. I had brought the plaque with his brother’s name on it which I had planned to show him. The plaque was a visible reminder to me of Chris – I had put him out of my mind until seeing his name unsponsored on a list at the Thunderbird Hotel. I gave Ted the plaque to keep. Ted brought his children to the Dedication of the Memorial and talked about his grief when other family members took the platform. I’m glad he did not miss the event. It really meant a lot to Ted.
Rollin Goldsberry
Vietnam Veteran
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Dearest and Loved Mom and Dad and Brothers and Sisters
I died fighting for my country. I died because it was God’s will and God’s will is the best judgement known to man. He must have or did have a good reason for taking my life. I lived a very short life down on Earth, but my next life will be a long one and I will see all of you again in your second life. God knows best and I will see all of you again.
Love all of you
Your son and brother
Ronnie
Ronald A. Jenniges
Army Sargent from Wanda, MN
We all miss you so much!
Your brothers, sisters, especially mom and dad
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To me, the most memorable moment of the MVVM dedication ceremony was the procession from the State Capitol. I had never felt more honored in my life than when I carried that banner down the steps. The time for the Minnesota vets to be honored was long overdue.
Adam Nicolai
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It has been almost 2 months since the unveiling of the Minnesota Vietnam Memorial. It was a sad day, but a happy time for the loved ones that came back and their families. They felt welcomed home for the first time. That’s what made it so special that weekend.
You can stand there and look at the hundreds and hundreds of soldiers that didn’t come home alive. Our son, Tom Stricklin, was one of them. We know the heartfelt feelings of the parents and other loved ones. You don’t know how it hurts until you go through the war hoping and praying your son or daughter would make it back home. We understand that Tom was told to get a wounded soldier. He had him in his arms. On the way back the sniper got both of them. I felt everything just stood still when we got the sad news.
Cheryl, Tom’s wife at the time, lived with us for several months and after their son Tom was born it was such a pleasure having them at our home. The Bible says “God giveth and God taketh.” That is what happened to all of us. He has filled our hearts with joy and love with Tom’s son, and he is such a joy to all our family. His grandpa would be proud of him. When I was up to speak there at the Wall, I said to myself, “Oh Lord, if the angels in heaven could just look down on us and bless us and all that is going on now and this whole weekend.”
I’m so proud of my son Dean and his wife and family. Also, my two daughters in California, Judy and Sharon, and their families. I’m really sorry they couldn’t be here. I will be going to see them, and I have a lot of pictures to take to them of all the people and the beautiful Wall.
Each of the Gold Star Mothers had a 173rd Color Guard member assigned to us. They stood behind us during the program. Mine was Arlen Johnson. He’s such a wonderful guy. I thought how could I have ever gotten through all of this without him and all the prayers said for me. Every time I looked around, he was by my side. Always smiling, he gave me such a lift. I will never forget him and his lovely wife. Thank you and God bless.
Eunice Stricklin
Gold Star Mother of Dean Stricklin
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Probably the most enjoyable and the time that gave me the greatest feeling of accomplishment was when the parade started on Dedication Day. That was almost overwhelming. I can’t explain the feeling of excitement. Like someone was coming to your rescue after five years of captivity. My good friend Mike Kjome was a POW for five years. Maybe there was a relationship. Something like the day the Cobra gunships came after we had been under attack by the Viet Cong for two days. They saved our lives. The feeling was similar. Those guys looked so good coming down from the Capitol. Like a triumphant victory march. They were the reason I was in this thing. It was most satisfying. Anything else since then has been very anticlimactic. Almost even the Wall itself.
Gary Lindsay
Vietnam Veteran
MVVM Board Member
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It was eleven-thirty on a Friday night as Ron and I, friends for thirty years, stood before the wall, him for the first time and me for the one hundredth. It was raining. Not a drizzle, but a long, steady rain that continued for hours. Having just had dinner, having just described as best I could the Memorial, the design, the emotion of the weekend, we decided to make a visit. Maybe, just maybe the rain would stop before we got there. If not, we’d run from the car to the plaza, quickly, and take a quick look. We were certain, given the time, we’d be alone.
Instead, we joined, on that rainy Friday night, eleven other people. Standing silently in the pouring rain, Ron and I, mostly silent, scanned the names, remembered the past, remembered the controversy, remembered the pain and even the excitement of the times. Standing some distance back, umbrella in hand, we gazed at the wall. No one else had an umbrella, yet they stood hardly noticing the rain. The others had come on that rainy Friday night for their own reason. One came alone. Another came with a friend. There was a group of three who came together… and one family. All standing in the rain. All at one point lined up in a perfect row the same distance from the wall as we stood behind them gazing. The rain, glistening off the polished granite of the wall fell upon the light fixtures built into the floor of the plaza and created an etherial mist that rose up to make the names in the lower part of the wall difficult to read.
We stood there for some time wondering what brought the others out that rainy Friday night, lost in our own thoughts, reflecting on the miracle that our names were not on the wall but could have been, thought about the families of each of the men, and then slowly, silently walked back to the car.
And then we cried.
Harlan Limpert
Vietnam Veteran
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The war in Vietnam was a defining event in my life as it was for nearly every member of my generation. Never again would I be able to view war as something separate, removed, a thing of the movies. Beliefs that had never been challenged were suddenly scrutinized from every side. The idea of war took on a new and terrible meaning for all of us. My involvement with the Memorial has been full of lots of unexpected revelations. The view in retrospect is almost always a clearer view; but to experience something as moving as the coming together of all of us, no matter what our position on the war had been, was to receive a gift. The gift has many parts. One part is the comfort and peace that comes with healing. Another is the chance to find new friends among a group of incredible, remarkable people. One part of the gift was truly unexpected. That is that my children, who have thankfully never had to personally experience war, have been given the opportunity to personally experience the cost of war through the sharing of others. May the generations that come after us gain insight into this cost through shared memories and find a way to end all war. Thank you for allowing us to be a part of shared memories.
Sandy Naughton
Co-Owner of James Steele Company
MVVM Builder
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Tommy Soma
I miss you and love you.
Aunt Audrey
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Welcome Home at last Mike Shea!
We love you-
Your family.
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Writing my feelings about the Memorial has been no easy task. How do I put all my feelings down on paper? I have been agonizing about this for weeks. Finally, it hit me this afternoon sitting on the Memorial’s Mississippi Riverbank on this glorious sunny Veterans Day. I sat and talked with a wonderful woman, a Gold Star Mother, who was never allowed to grieve for the loss of her son until now. She quoted poetry she had written about her son and his death and her own guilt about his death. I told her how I was struggling to write this, and she told me that the words would come. I sat and talked with her for a long while, and then she showed me her son’s name engraved on the wall. I made a rubbing for her as she was unable to do it herself. As she got ready to leave, I was struck with a panic that I would never see her again, so I ran after her and we exchanged addresses and phone numbers, and I took her picture and she took mine. I never wanted to forget this wonderful person who touched my heart so deeply in so short a time.
After she left, I sat on the bank of Lake Superior and watched the man that I love with all my heart and soul struggle with his emotions and feelings. He is not doing well at all. He has been losing it more and more with each passing day. For the last seven years I have watched him struggle with himself and I have watched him steadily lose the battle. His drinking is killing him. He is sick every day. I know that I can’t fix it for him as much as I would like to. I would love to take away his pain, but I can’t. All I can do is love him and pray that he will find peace in his heart. Watching him here today at the Memorial and seeing his brothers reaching out to him helped me feel some hope that he may be able to find that peace.
As I sat there thinking about all this, the Great Spirit sent a sign of hope. A female Bald Eagle came soaring overhead and circled the area four times. What a magnificent sight it was. The Great Spirit sent her to us to prove that He is here and that He is our hope for peace. Zach, if you are reading this, please know that I love you for who and what you are. I am proud of you as I am of all vets. You were brought home for a reason, and you will need to be healed. You were there, you saw the eagle and you know what you need to do.
In the years working on this project, I have made many friends. I hope that we will keep in touch with each other. I love you all.
Mary
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To all of you:
Thank you so much for all you did to plan and build such a beautiful Memorial. It is one that is not only beautiful but an inspiration.
Four of our children and two daughters-in-law were here today with me. We all thought it a very special day. A day we will always remember. One son and daughter were 12 and less than 14 when we lost James, their brother and my son. Now they experienced this day as adults.
Thank you all, God Bless,
Violet
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8/Nov/67
Dear Mom, 0430
By the time you find this note I’ll probably be in Vietnam. I hope the worst doesn’t come to pass, but if it does I want you to know I love you and dad more than anything. Don’t worry for me being in Vietnam. But worry for all the guys that are hurt and in bad pain and hope that I didn’t learn the wrong things in Corps School. I suppose I could say a bunch of hogwash about being over in Vietnam to fight Communism but I’m not there to fight, but to save lives. I know I’m scared now just thinking about what it’s going to be like when I’m there.
May God be with you.
Love, Chuck
HM3 Charles E. Olson
Feb. 19, 1968
Quang Tri Province
Age 20
Navy Medic assigned to 3rd Battalion 1st Marines
His name is 3rd line down 1968
3rd light on floor from left –
My brother – I’m proud of him!
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There were a number of activities that took place that had an impact on me, probably the most significant was my son’s presence on Sunday morning. I volunteered both of my children; however, our daughter was in Chicago with her mother so only our son was available to participate in Sunday’s events. Sunday was a luminous day. It was bright, crisp, and full of hope and expectation. Jonathan was given the task of passing out ribbons, which served as descriptive arm bands for individuals who had given friends and relatives to the war and/or who wanted to say thank you to those that had given their time and/or those who had given to the war in some way.
Watching Jonathan, I couldn’t help but marvel at the “living monument”, a phrase I had heard Saturday afternoon. I couldn’t help marveling at his presence on earth and I couldn’t be happier for his hopes and prospects for the future. As I walked the grounds of the State Capitol, coffee cup in hand, I would return frequently to The Memorial and run my hands over some of the names. There but for the grace of God go me and therefore my son. I will be eternally grateful for the weekend’s experiences, not the least of which was the time my son and I spent together. Thank you.
Peter
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As parents of a son who died in Vietnam, we want to send a special thanks from the bottom of our hearts for the beautiful day and Memorial given to us. You must know it was appreciated by all.
Our family would like this donation given to hopefully cover the cost of engraving his name on the wall. The dedication was a special day for a special son and brother who was much loved. Thank you.
The Roy Stradtmann Family
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27 Sep 92
Father –
Although your name is not here on this granite panel I still can feel you here. I’ve seen the eyes of your brothers in those of my peers. It does not matter how long its been, the wound in my heart is still fresh. I just can’t cry hard enough or long enough. I’ll never forsake or forget you. You are all that I am and ever hope to be. Come from the place of beauty and hear my voice. I think you’d have been proud of me when I spoke on Friday. Everyone says how much like you I really am. If I am one tenth of the person you were, then that would be enough. I’ll always love you.
Your first born, Annie Whitewolf
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I had never intended to see the Wall in DC; I was afraid of it. In June, however, I got a chance to take a quick almost expense free trip to D.C. I figured this might be my only chance to ever see the wall, so I went. Once at the wall I felt nothing. I was stone cold even as I looked at the name of my friend, killed when I was wounded in 1967. I was puzzled over my lack of feelings, but once I returned to Minnesota, I started showing a lot of anger over little things. Finally I started attending group therapy at the Vet Center, trying to sort things out. I am still going to group. And it has helped a lot. Taking part in Dedication Weekend helped a lot also. I was with my friends, they were teary eyed, so was I. I felt emotions and it was good; I wasn’t afraid to show emotion with my friends. Dedication Weekend left me feeling drained but also feeling good. It has helped me, along with group, to get in touch with myself, my emotions, to sort things out. I am glad I was a part of Dedication Weekend, and whenever I think of that weekend I will feel a warm glow.
Mike Clark
Vietnam Veteran
VVA 470 – Anoka County
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I spent most of the weekend in the Command Center, therefore, I did not have the opportunity to interact frequently with the public. I was, however, deeply moved by the dedication and proud to have been a part of it. During the days following the dedication, I found that I was having a hard time expressing to other people just how special an experience it has been for me, and then, while reading a children’s book, Dragonwings, by Laurence Yep, I came across the following passage. I feel that it expresses with much more clarity than I was able to muster exactly what it meant to me to be able to be a part of the dedication. I hope that it will have the same meaning for others.
“And all of a sudden I saw that if life seems awfully petty most of the time, every now and then there is something noble and beautiful and almost pure that lifts us suddenly out of the pettiness and lets us share in it a little.”
Cynthia
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No greater love has a man than he lay down his life for a friend. John 15:12
You were young
You died
We do remember you.
Thank you.
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It wasn’t until Sunday afternoon after the closing ceremonies that the impact of the experience really hit me.
For the entire weekend the walkie-talkies has been alive with directives, requests, and news for the event. As the weekend progressed the activity levels dropped and people went off the air, having completed their tasks. Later Sunday afternoon there were but a few of us left on the network as most of the people had gone home. Soon the last few people had turned in their radios and I was the only one on the air. I walked to the Command Post and turned in my radio. It was then when I realized what we had done. It was over, it was done to the best of our abilities, and I could go home with a sense of pride in what we had all done. This time we had truly completed the mission.
Keith
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To whom it may concern,
Thank you for your persistence in working for this war memorial! It won’t bring back the young people who gave their lives, but they now will be remembered with their names on the Memorial.
Mary
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The presentation by Nancy Larson was one of the most moving events I have ever witnessed, and I was delighted to realize that I felt like I knew Verle personally as Nancy read aloud the letters he had sent home.
As producer of the MVVM fundraising video, I was standing atop the northern end of the Memorial’s Mississippi River videotaping the Larson ceremony. Seated on the riverbank was a man with his daughter, who appeared to be about four years old. During the ceremony, the little girl kept twirling her father’s hair in her fingers, and I thought this was one of the seemingly insignificant events in life that Verle might have enjoyed had he lived.
Suddenly, something caught my eye; I looked and I saw a little yellow leaf tumbling through the air. It landed in the Mississippi.
Sensing the value of a shot of a leaf floating down our river, I tilted the camera down and began following the leaf as it drifted downstream. It was turning and bobbing in response to the power of the water, a classic metaphor for the human condition. The leaf had traveled about five feet when, suddenly, a tiny hand appeared in the camera’s viewfinder. Reaching into the water, the diminutive hand plucked the leaf out of the river. It was the little girl. I zoomed the camera back to see that she was carefully examining the leaf, noting its shape and color.
Assuming the shot was over, I returned the camera to the Larson ceremony. Abruptly, I swung the camera back to the leaf, she tossed it back into the river and watched as it floated away. I slowly zoomed the camera past the girl to the leaf, stopped the zoom on a close-up and waited for the leaf to float off-screen.
I chose to believe that the leaf symbolized Verle Larson and our other fallen sons and brothers. The little girl represented us, examining their lives, their deaths, their beauty. By returning the leaf to the waters, the girl was teaching us how to let go.
That shot was one of the most beautiful scenes I recorded during my association with the Memorial. I came to see it as a gift. And I will never in my life forget the lesson taught to me by a little girl and a leaf.
Rich
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John,
If you asked me to get you the ketchup now, I would. Wish we could ride on horseback into the sunset.
I miss you so,
Your little sister, Mary
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During the Dedication, things got pretty hectic. Running around checking on things, talking to people every time we turned around. Quiet moments to sit and reflect were very rare. One time as we were viewing the Memorial, Carol took off her KIA bracelet and placed it on the ground at the foot of the wall. The bracelet was for Gary Love, who I knew in the Nam and wasn’t even on our wall. But the meaning was symbolic. The reason we got involved with the Memorial project was because of Gary. I loved him much and the day he died in my arms a big hole opened in my life. Carol filled a big part of this hole when we married and I believe, by doing this, she helped to fill the hole a little more.
Later as we sat by Lake Superior and watched the people at the wall, we held each other and tears did flow. It’s because of this that there is love between us. Hopefully, someday the hole will be almost completely filled. I doubt if it will ever be totally healed because I still love and miss Gary. I hope from the work we’ve done, he’s happy with me. I know we’ll meet again someday, and I can introduce him to my wife.
Gary Holthaus
Vietnam Veteran
MVVM Board Member
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Dear John, I have wonderful news, the 173rd Airborne society has changed their name from 15th N.W. Chapter to SSgt John K Weber Chapter. They are so wonderful to me. When you were killed it left a hole in our family that has never been closed. We love you so much. Danny lives in Australia. Wouldn’t you have loved to visit there? I will see you in Heaven John and then we will never part.
Your loving mother
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Being involved with this effort has honestly changed my life, as I’m sure it has and will for many others. Some of those changes have been a bit hard to deal with, and others were long overdue. I suppose it goes without saying that when you get involved with a project of this magnitude you meet people who will influence the rest of your life (Teresa, Sally, Joanna, Gary (take your pick), Nancy, Diane, Tim, Bill, Gene, etc. etc. etc.). But I met someone I never expected to meet during the last 2-1/2 years. I came face to face with the person I’ve feared the most in the world, Me.
In 1969 Ron left for Nam, and me, well I was too busy with my career to take the time to see him off. As you know, that was my last chance to see him. I regretted, even hated myself for that for years, and somewhere down that road of time, I just stuffed those feelings and said “forget about it.” I did a good job of it too, or so I thought. It never surfaced until about 1986 or 87, when Laurie (my wife) began to tell me I hadn’t dealt with Ronnie’s death. She was wrong! I had dealt with it a long time ago, and “I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT.”
In 1990 I got involved with MVVM. By this time my marriage was under a lot of stress, in fact a lot more than I could see, and it was to get much worse before it would get better. Because of MVVM I met four Vietnam Vets who gave me so much of themselves to me, a non-vet. They were Gary Lindsay, John Staads, Keith Pollari, and Tom Schepers. It took you guys to finally help me get on top of some things. My not going to Vietnam and not being there when my Little Brother needed me. Not taking the time to say good-bye, well that’s something I have to live with, but instead of hiding it, now I’m learning from it. As it’s turned out, Laurie was right, I really hadn’t dealt with Ron’s death, and maybe it’s something that never can be dealt with completely.
I’m thankful to have been given the opportunity to meet each and every person involved with MVVM, you’re all special. I know our Minnesota Vietnam Veterans Memorial will show thousands of Minnesotans that there are people who still care and share.
Anver
Gold Star Brother of Ronald Larson
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Dear Teresa and all:
I would like to thank you so much for all your time and effort to make the MVVM a reality.
Being a Vietnam Vet, I suffered a lot of emotion from that period. I felt alone. With the Memorial I hope it will help others like myself. Saturday was the most emotional day of my life. I saw my brothers and sisters and we could feel something together.
Although I didn’t know Dean Stricklin personally, I guarded him in basketball when he went to Marshal and I went to Edison. We were all in the same boat. And my heart goes out to his family. Thank you for all you’ve done and God Bless.
Jim
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For me, Vietnam was, like it was for most people who lived during the 60’s, something I saw on the news or read about in the papers or heard second hand from conversations with friends whose brothers or relatives had gone. My own brother was old enough to go but come up lucky in the lottery… the high 200’s…with almost no chance he’d be drafted. I remember how he whooped for joy when he got the news.
So when Teresa Vetter came to Concept Group’s office in the spring of 1987 with her idea of building a memorial to the Minnesota Vietnam Veterans and asked us for help in getting the word out, I thought it was a nice idea. But I couldn’t help but think, is it really necessary? I mean, didn’t the vets already have a memorial in Washington D.C.?
But I was an advertising man, so I took the project as a challenge. And I did the best I could to wholeheartedly believe in what I was working on.
For four years Teresa came back to Concept Group from time to time with small projects. I shared her enthusiasm when they finally won funding from the State. I shared her excitement about the memorial design contest. But all the while I remained a little skeptical of the whole thing. Was all this really necessary?
Then she came in April with a last request for Concept Group’s help: to design and write the dedication program. And she handed out over a packet of letters that the MVVM had received over the years from contributors. After reading them I knew what had hooked her.
And then came the dedication ceremony itself. Something I would never have gone to had Teresa not gotten me involved. The speeches were all fine, the march of the vets memorable, but I will say that I have never been moved in my whole life as I was moved when the family members took the stage and talked of their lost loved ones.
I saw something I’d thought was long over with and forgotten: I saw what Vietnam had really done to those who were closest to it. I saw the wounds that people all around me had kept covered for years suddenly opened for all to see. I saw firsthand the terrible suffering this war had caused to families all over the state. It was almost unbearable to watch.
That’s when I knew that the project Teresa Vetter had envisioned was indeed a necessary and a worthy one. And I would like to thank her again for letting me do what little I could to make it happen.
Michael
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Dear Danny,
How I miss you, we grew up together.
We played ball together, trapped gophers,
went hunting and fishing together.
We worked together, the long hot summer
days of bailing, then a bike trip to
the pit for a late swim.
We laughed, fought, and talked a lot.
Then we faced Dad’s cancer together,
that changed us, made us closer.
We fought less, talked more.
Then I lost you, my friend and part of me.
Your sis
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Monday, September 28, 1992
With this morning comes a great deal of sadness and longing for me. As beautiful as this day may prove to be, the many things that we have for so long sought are now largely completed. On Saturday afternoon I left the dedication ceremony for our own reception at Macalester College, walking slowly up the hill past the Capitol to the car beyond as the first of many individuals took the microphone to speak about their loved ones. Listening to their voices and with the Memorial literally behind me, it was apparent that we had completed our work and that the real clients, the people of this region, were taking over the project as their own. I hope that those of the future will visit it with respect, both for the work that went into it as well as for the veterans it will always represent.
Rich
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In memory of Sgt. David W. Erickson, USMC
3-16-68 SVN (POW/MIA)
When you were little
You heard of WWII.
You heard when they returned
Everybody yelled and cheered.
When it was your turn to
go over there and when you
returned there was no cheer.
I was too young to remember Vietnam.
All I do know is it is about time
They did something in memory of everybody
that died in Vietnam.
God Bless you all!
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I consider being a part of the Minnesota Vietnam Veteran Memorial an extreme honor. Although I am not a veteran, I never felt so much brotherhood among so many men and women. The respect for each other, the hugs and tears, the honor shown to the Gold Star Mothers and Gold Star Wife. The people, Old Glory, the other flags, the POW/MIA flag, the Memorial, the occasion, it was awesome. On Friday the 25th, I felt a great excitement as we approached the Memorial. This was truly a new experience. At the groundbreaking, I expected many more people there. But as others involved felt, the numbers of people at these events were not the motivating factor. The Memorial, the men and women, the families, the vets, the welcoming home was the focus. This Dedication Weekend was different, there were hundreds of people there on Friday. It was wonderful. I was very concerned about my mother who was speaking at the opening ceremony, one of the Gold Star Mothers. Her sister that she had lived with since my dad died 5-1/2 years ago had just died 15 days before Dedication Weekend. I kept watching her to make sure she was okay. She seemed so strong. I was so proud of her. And my mom has always been such an example of calm, quiet, under control courage, carrying on even under great distress on numerous occasions. But I was still concerned. She was wonderful and spoke clearly from her heart and many were moved. And I was very proud and honored to be her son.
After the Gold Star Mother ceremony a vet approached my mother and told her that he was so moved by her talk and the love she had for her lost son that he wished he could have died in his place. My mother said, “No, no, I wouldn’t have wanted you to die.” I wish I could have been there to witness that conversation.
The next part of the program was the Sons and Daughters. I was so glad my brother’s son, whose name is the same as his dad’s, Tom Stricklin, was there. And probably for the first time he heard from others his own age in his own real-life situation. It was a moving experience to hear from the hearts of those young people who never met their dads except through pictures, letters, and words from others. It was a time of emotional stretching that I was not really ready for. It was so moving.
The next day on the way to the Memorial I wondered what the turnout would be. Would the vets come? Without them it would not be the same. After I parked the car, as I was walking towards the stage area, my heart started beating fast and I became very excited. My wife and my mother had gone ahead and I was waiting for our kids. When I was looking around, a young girl asked me if I wanted a ribbon around my arm. I said yes, both red and white. I walked a little ahead, I took a minute to myself and prayed, “God help me today. I feel very weak. This is it, I need strength from you.” When I had finished, I said, “This is for you my brother. I miss you very much. You would be 43 years old today if you could have been here today with the others.”
There were cars and people everywhere. Wow. Groups of people here and there getting ready for the Dedication Program. The uniforms, the flags, the faces, the anticipation was incredible. This day was indeed special. I started looking for the rest of my family that was going to be here today and I saw my mother who had already found two of my brother’s friends from high school who served in Vietnam. I was feeling like I needed to see Teresa. I went over to the steps that led to the platform. My family was in about the fifth row back. They were cheering me on. It seemed strange for me to be standing there with the governor of Minnesota, General Westmorelend, General Vessey, Jan Scruggs, the Design Team, the Board, Bill Popp, Dick Naughton and his wife, others and our beloved Teresa Vetter. The work was completed, acknowledgments taking place, now the opportunity to express in a public arena the pain from all these years by family members. “Chariots of Fire” filled the air. Flags were moving down towards the platform. I could see vets everywhere. It was such a powerful image. The speeches are a matter of record. I felt so privileged to be a part of the Dedication Weekend.
I must share something special that happened as I finished my speech. I came back and quietly sat and prayed and thanked God for helping me. When I finished praying, I had a vision. My brother in his uniform standing in front of me came to attention and saluted me. And started off toward the Memorial.
When the program was over another special thing happened. We were shaking hands and hugging on the platform when I noticed behind the stage a vet in uniform looking at me. I went over to him and asked him how he was doing. He said fine. And then he thanked me for welcoming him home. He told me he had never felt welcomed home until now. I thought, “This is it. This is worth all the wait. This is such an important part of the whole memorial.” What a day I was having. It was sure a lot more than just giving a speech. What a specific answer to prayer. It was an overwhelming moment for me. I felt such a kindship with him. He is like a brother. Most of these guys were my brother’s age. They were like my brother. They loved me like a brother. And I loved them. I only hope that this is just the beginning.
Friday I was concerned about my mother. Saturday I was concerned about my speech. Sunday I was just going to relax, but the POW/MIA program was so moving I just let go emotionally… Not knowing all these years, I knew I wouldn’t believe it until I saw my brother, but when I did, I knew. They still don’t know. My heart really goes out to them and their families. I had a new feeling for the saying “It’s not really over ‘til they’re all accounted for.”
In giving just a few hours of my life, I have been rewarded many fold. This has been an experience I will always cherish. There are too many blessings to list now. Too many to thank… so many special, wonderful people. Thank you to those who have given my life a very special meaning. Thank you and God bless.
Dean
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What better day to look back than the last day I had the Memorial phone. I should put down how I feel and what really moved me on Dedication Weekend. That won’t be too easy. As I look back, the whole time I was a part of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial was very special – not enough adjectives to express how I feel.
I can lie in bed at night and look back – the people we met, the hugs, the friendships that grew. All the good times! All of the bad times that made us work harder! The tears, the laughter – it was great!
Out of all the things that happened Friday there was one thing really different. There was a man who was always watching me from a distance all morning. He was always not too far away from me. Then that afternoon he came over to me and asked the time. I told him and I didn’t see him again till Saturday morning. He told me he had talked to me a few times. He was in the service, stationed in the state of Washington. And he was originally from Waterville. I remembered him then. He asked if I knew his family would be attending the dedication. I told him yes. His sister had told me that the brother from Washington would not be able to come to the Dedication. He had a big smile – he was going to surprise her and the brother. We talked about this and that. When his sister came off the stage from reading their two brothers’ names, I told her that someone wanted to see her. Up walked her brother whom she hadn’t seen in years. It was great to see a family that found each other again.
Sally
MVVM Board Member
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Phil – You are the only person I knew that was killed in Vietnam, but, sadly, not the only casualty. We had other friends over there who came back – “different”, victims of non-physical wounds. My old friend Jim hasn’t been the same and still hasn’t dealt with it. No matter how much I’ve tried to talk to him and get him to let it out, he won’t. I don’t have my old friend anymore. I feel like an outsider because even though I was in the Navy during ‘Nam I wasn’t “In Country”. We flew the South China Sea tracking subs, and we were based in the Philippines. The “In Country” vets kind of don’t give you any credit for serving unless you were “In Country.” That hurts. God knows that we who weren’t there can’t comprehend the experience. But that doesn’t mean we don’t want to try to understand, and listen, and care.
I am so sorry you were killed and and I thank you for being there for me, my kids and our country. I touched your name on “The Wall” in D.C. and cried. I cried for you and your family, all the names on the wall and the visitors and for my friend – Jim. Today I touched your name again and cried again. Thank you Phil for listening. I’m proud to have known you.
You will never be forgotten Phil.
“Legs”
Vietnam Veteran
De La Salle ‘65
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Now that the Memorial is complete, and life is moving on, I find myself trying to sort out what took place over this past summer.
It is quite difficult to comprehend the emotions attached to this concrete and stone structure.
The contact I had with hundreds of people involved in the construction revealed no single motive.
The obvious tells us the Memorial was built for the Vietnam vets and their families, but it goes further than that. I believe we built this for each other.
The Memorial project served as an instrument for me to discover the goodness in all people.
During my involvement, the contacts I made and stories I heard from vets and families were numerous and extremely moving.
The comment that stays with me was from a friend who served as a medic in Da Nang. He said, “after attending the Dedication and visiting the Memorial I went home, sat down and just felt good.”
Dick
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April 10, 1991
The Minnesota Vietnam Veteran’s Memorial, Inc.
Dear Sirs:
Please find enclosed a $303.00 donation twards the Minnesota Vietnam Veteran’s Memorial. This money was collected from the graduating class of 1965 of Harmony High School, Harmony, Minnesota.
We are donating this money in the name of David Michel, our classmate and friend. Dave was killed on June 11, 1969.
Thank you for the opportunity to participate in the establishment of this Memorial.
Sincerely,
Larry Haugen
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Teresa Vetter
Minnesota Vietnam Veteran’s Memorial
19 September 1990
Enclosed is a check for $250.00 for the Memorial.
I would like to sponsor either Mark Holte or Roger Holte, both listed as being from Grygla, Minnesota. During the design competition, I obtained from the Veterans Service Administration a list of the 1,072 Minnesotans killed or missing in action. Our design team had previously decided to pursue our Memorial competition proposal based in some way on the idea of individuals and community, and the design was evolving along those lines. As I began reading down through the list and gradually located the names and towns on a large map of Minnesota, I became aware of the sacrifice that families from the entire state made. Many of the towns I had never heard of. When I reached the names of the Holtes, two men from a single small town and probably related, the thought of their loss seemed like too much to ask of any family. I finished going through the list over the next few days in great sadness.
I don’t know what peace any of those families may have received over the years in trying to understand the deaths. But because of your efforts to establish this Memorial, the names of individuals like Mark Holte and Roger Holte will be read and remembered for generations. Today when a semi trailer from Grygla passed me on the highway, I thought of them again. I hope that the families left behind can take some comfort in knowing this.
Sincerely,
Richard Laffin
MVVM Design Team
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Dear friends,
This sponsor-a-name contribution is for our son and brother:
Edward Steven Graves who was a paratrooper with the 173rd Brigade, killed Feb 27, 1966. Steve loved Christmas and so after 25 years this will be our last Christmas gift to him.
It seems impossible that my son is now almost as old as Steve was when he was killed – and now there is Saudi Arabia…
We wish you much success and want to thank you so much for the thousands of hours you have given toward the Memorial.
Sincerely,
Gold Star Family
Phyllis Graves, mother, Burnsville, MN
Gil Sicement, sister, Bloomington, MN
Kathy Cole, sister, Plainview, MN
Jim Graves, brother, Apple Valley, MN
Patty Erickson, sister, Eau Claire, WI
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