I hope no one is too upset that I took a day of silence yesterday. I attempted unsuccessfully to write a couple of times, but there was too much I wanted to say that I just couldn’t get out. It didn’t help that it was Vet’s Day and it reminds me of one special person in particular- the man, who I believe was my mother’s true soul-mate, a Lakota indian named BJ. Over two years ago I held the hand of this beautiful soul just hours before he passed on. He should still be here making my mother smile, but instead he now walks in the shadows with just hints of his occasional presence.

BJ was a gunner on a helecopter in Vietnam, and the life expectancy for this position was less than 5 minutes. It was a miracle in itself that he ever made it home, but he battled for the rest of his life with severe PTSD. 27 years after America’s longest war ended, he died of cancer due to exposure to Agent Orange.

It’s no wonder that I’m so fearful for my friends who are in the military. I may not agree with this war, but I will always hope for the best for all of those involved, and I have some very close friends that have been. Alex & Aric, brothers, John and Adam were all in Iraq when we had Joe’s memorial. My navy girls, Becky (Joe’s sister) and Gena have been lucky enough to not be shipped overseas, and I’ve been quite grateful for that.

There’s a song on the OCMS album that I’d like to post the lyrics to. It always makes me think of BJ, who lived in Waterloo, Alabama.

Down in Utah, Alabama in 1965
a young man about 21
No different than you or I
He’s catching catfish and getting drunk

But Uncle Sam called
He called him up
and send him out to Vietnam

That young man got his life turned upside
turned his smile into a frown
brought that kingdom a crown
for an idea he didn’t even know about

He was gamblin’ at the wagon
when that army man showed up
and he flashed that pen and paper
and oh, he signed up

Gonna be a big time
in the jungle
Gonna be firefight
Gonna be a rumble
Send me off to Vietnam

I’ll fight ten men
I got nothing left in the states for me
I want to see the world you see
I know Uncle Sam needs me
to fight for an idea I know nothing about

Oh the drop point was dusty
And the drill sergeant was loud
And he could not see the corpses
For the raging dust cloud

Grab your duffel bags
Head to the check point
Welcome to Vietnam boys,
you’re in for a hell of fight
Take it from the ones who know

The army moved slow
Hurry up and wait
Don’t sleep late
Learn to hate your brother
before you hate your foe

On patrol out in the rice fields
them choppers flew low
Glancing up for the hand signals
that tell you where to go

Then the bombs started fallin’
and pounded his brain
He thought about Utah
and who was to blame
for sending him to Vietnam