"Sharing can be a way of healing. Grief and loss can isolate,
anger even alienate. Shared with others, emotions unite
as we see we aren't alone. We realize others weep with us."
~Susan Wittig Albert

Through our writing, we walk out of the darkness into the light
together, one small step at a time, recording history, educating
America, and we are healing.
~CJ/Todd Dierdorff



Sunday, January 30, 2011

The Steps to Healing

The steps to healing are, first and foremost, recognizing and embracing the hurt in its entirety, feeling it's wholeness and sting, acknowledging that it doesn't own us, and then releasing it -- allowing it to go.  In the releasing of it is where healing begins.  It's then that the tears come.  Tears are meant to cleanse and they do, if we'll only allow them.
  

When my husband, Doug, was killed in Vietnam in '69, one of the most poignant poems I ever read was sent to me in a sympathy card.  The words mean just as much now as they did then, and I  would like to share them with you:


Tears (Anonymous)

Tears on the outside
fall on the ground
and are slowly swept away.

Tears on the inside
fall on the soul
and stay, and stay, and stay.



I've never forgotten those words -- how wonderful and healing they are.

CJ


“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do. And by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale


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Friday, January 28, 2011

A Vietnam Veteran: Al Comeau

This was put during one of my many moments of retrospect and reflection.  No day goes by without thoughts of that time or memories of war's horror.  I provide this for your use, should you find it worthy.  I served with the U.S. Army in the Central Highlands of Vietnam from November 1965 through December 1966 as an enlisted member of the 1st Cavalry Division (Airmobile).

Al Comeau
34 Roland Street
Waterbury, CT 06706
Tel: (203) 419-0378 (Home)
(203) 597-7687 (Cell)
My E-mail

A VIETNAM VETERAN

I was eighteen.
I chose hardship, over comfort and duty, in Vietnam.
I made longer America’s heritage,  proud to have done so.
I was firm in my resolve, though my country was not.
I knew distrust, not respect, upon my return.

Mine was a blood trust with those whom I served.
Mine was glory not easily bestowed.
Mine are memories of horror, not joy.
Mine were wounds never to heal.
Mine was a war not celebrated.

Each nightmare is mine to endure.
Each day brings thoughts, unresolved.
Each comrade lost is a wound upon my soul.
Each battle fought remains a scar upon my mind.
Each year gone by, lends shadow to my past.

There is pride to know I held the torch of Liberty high.
There is pride that Freedom is mine to share.
There is pride that others carry America’s banner - still.
There is pride in what I chose to do.
There is pride to have served and not to run, as some.

I am a VIETNAM VETERAN and I entrust the torch of Freedom to those that choose to wear the uniform of the Armed Forces of the United States of America and to their families who support and honor them for their service.

Just as it is without conscience to kill the messenger who conveys bad news: It is unjust to disrespect and dishonor the warrior for acting upon the orders of his superiors in service to his Nation’s wishes. The mission of the warrior may be distasteful but service to Country is embarked upon through an uncompromising oath to support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic and bear true faith AND allegiance to same.

We, as a Nation of free Americans, must never again find it acceptable to dishonor those warriors or veterans who, through their service and sacrifice, allow all Americans to breath the fresh, clean air of FREEDOM.

**Thank you, most sincerely, Al, for your service and for taking the time to write for Memoirs.
From CJ, with my most humble regards and respect.

Welcome Home, Al Comeau.


“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do. And by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale

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Thursday, January 27, 2011

Richard Schwartz: Thoughts on Writing

I wrote the following in the hope that others might be encouraged to try writing, by explaining what writing is like for me. ~Richard Schwartz

Richard Schwartz

Thoughts on Writing:

by Richard Schwartz

Although my chronological age is 62, I am a newborn in the area of writing. Up until now, my career has been in an area of electronic device development that, unless you are in the electronics engineering field, you wouldn't have heard about firmware engineering.

My work was methodical and performed precise step by precise step. It involved a huge amount of mathematics. Writing fiction is about as far from that type of work as night is from day.

About 9 months ago, a friend suggested that I check out a website that had memories of soldiers who had served in Vietnam. I loved reading the articles contributed to the website. I decided to write an article for the website and thus began my writing career.

It remains to be seen if this career will produce dollar one but I thought it might be fun for some of CJ's readers to learn what writing is like for me and, hopefully, inspire others to try their hand at something that I find brings lots of joy into my life.

My novel follows three generations of a family in the Pacific Northwest. Except for the locations, it is pure fiction. At least 15% of my time is spent on research. Reading about some location or people tends to paint a mental picture of what I want to describe for the characters in the novel. I have one section of my novel that takes place in the early 1900's. I'll be developing that section late next week.

I've just discovered a book on pioneers in the Northwest that will provide background for that section of the novel. That also involves a couple who were born around 1850. so having a history of the Northwest will help outline who they are.

Today I'm starting to outline a family member who has emotional problems. Right now I think it will end in a suicide or suicide attempt or both. When I start writing about a character, they seem to take on a life of their own. I really don't know where they'll take my imagination.

An example of this would be when I decided to start a chapter with one of the main adult characters interacting with a child. I needed her to be a window character and intended to write one paragraph with her and that would be the end of her involvement in my novel. As soon as I started writing her, a flood of ideas poured into my head for her and now she's one of the main characters in the novel. Shortly after introducing her, an important and joy filled wedding takes place.

While I was agonizing over how I would write the wedding, I started hearing Sarah, the 5 year old, telling the story as if she were talking to her cousin, Ethan. So the entire wedding takes place from the viewpoint of a joy filled 5 year old girl.

Wondering where my imagination will take my novel next is kind of like watching a cloud. I don't have control over what it looks like or where its going. It may rain or snow or sleet or just pass by to reveal endless sunshine. Sometimes I struggle for hours to put a simple idea on paper and sometimes I can't seem to type fast enough to get all the ideas on paper that my imagination is supplying for me.

And never mind what time it is or where I am. The ideas just start pouring out. I've excused myself at dinners with family to sneak off and write down some ideas. I've gotten up at 2:00 in the morning and run down to my office with the intention of writing a couple of brief notes and then end up sitting at my keyboard for the next 6 hours busily typing away. That brings up another oddity. I lose track of time when I'm writing. That's NEVER happened to me before.

Yesterday around noon I told Carolynn that we could go out for a fast food lunch in 5 minutes. Five hours later, she came into my office laughing at me and asking if I was ready yet.

I've read that some writers' characters speak to them. Mine don't speak to me but I can hear them speaking to each other. Each character has a different voice. I don't assign them a voice but when I start writing about them I start hearing their voices as they talk to their fellow characters.

Oddly enough this is where the real fun comes in. As an absolute (now former?) techno geek, I am astonished that the part of writing I enjoy the most is creating language in little 2 dimensional symbols that describes the world and feelings I wish to convey to the reader. Its also (at least for me) the most challenging. I have to be honest. Writing is the most fun I have ever had besides activities with my children and family.

The best description of this is that for 62 years, I went to work every day. Although I spend 6 -12 hours writing nearly every day, it just isn't work. Does life get any better than that?

Having a great partner who understands the uneven creative process and providing a great sounding board for my ideas helps more than I can say. I had a chapter-long story completed that was based on an actual experience of mine when I was in 7th grade. Carolynn told me that no one would believe the story. I reiterated that this actually happened to me.

“I'm sure that this happened to you but none of your characters are as strange as you are so unless someone knows you, this is not realistic,” she told me. I rewrote the chapter as happening during the characters' college years and suddenly it was believable.

The question I am asked the most when I tell people I'm writing a novel is, “Where do you get your ideas?” The honest answer is that I don't have a clue where they come from. The second question I get is “Who is you favorite fiction author?” The answer is Mark Twain - but when people ask me that, sometimes I think they're really asking who inspires my writing.

I really don't have an author who inspires my writing. Maybe you've figured out by now that my characters inspire my writing as I write them. I know when my novel will end (death of a certain character) but I really don't know how I'll get there.  See? Carolynn is right. I really AM strange!

My thanks to Vietnam buddy, Craig Latham, and author, C.J. Heck, who guided me into this literary adventure.

"Per correr migliori acque alza le vele ormai la navicella del mio ingegno che lascia dietro a sé mar sì crudele."

[For better waters that are heading with the wind, My ship of genius now shakes out her sail, And leaves the ocean of despair behind].  Opening lines of Dante's Il Purgatorio - Dorothy L. Sayers Translation

Richard A. Schwartz
27708 246th Ave SE
Maple Valley, Wa. 98038


***Thank you so much, Richard.  Another well-written article -- you've captured the very essence of writing, and I can hardly wait to get a copy of your novel!  Best wishes.  ~CJ



“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do. And by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale


Wednesday, January 26, 2011

DOD Project for VN Vets

I got this in an email and thought I'd pass it along for those of you who haven't seen it yet. ~CJ

Defense Department Begins Project for Vietnam War Veterans
Courtesy of American Forces Press Service

WASHINGTON -- More than three decades after the war’s end, the Defense Department has begun a project to pay tribute to the nation’s Vietnam War veterans. The 50th Anniversary of the Vietnam War Commemoration was spawned from the 2008 National Defense Authorization Act.

“It was a very important time period for veterans, because most Vietnam veterans, as a whole, never received the homecoming that our troops receive now,” said Army Lt. Col. Hunter Holliday, public affairs officer for the commemoration.

At the center of the project is a website, 50th Anniversary of the Vietnam War Commemoration, which will serve as a clearinghouse for information on the war once it is fully functional, a milestone expected this spring.

"Information gleaned from the website is expected to be used for a myriad of purposes, such as to chronicle facts, provide educational materials, and offer resources for a commemorative partners program," Holliday said.

The partners program will comprise guidance and materials for agencies, veterans groups, local government and nongovernment organizations to conduct their own Vietnam War commemoration activities. A calendar will also list major DOD-sponsored events.


“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do. And by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale




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Monday, January 17, 2011

Conversations

There's a lot that goes unnoticed behind the blogs of Memoirs -- discussions, for instance, between people who live miles and states apart, people who have a history through birth or by circumstance.

Craig Latham grew up in the same small town that I did, graduated from the same high school, and after forty-something years, we reconnected through Facebook and Memoirs. We didn't travel in the same circles, so I didn't have the pleasure of knowing him back then -- but what a nice guy and great friend he is. Craig has heart and I respect that. I also respect the fact that he did his time in Vietnam and he's had the courage to write about it here for all of us to share.

By Craig's suggestion, I want to share a conversation we had the other day in Facebook:

CJ Heck - January 15 at 6:49pm
Hi Craig -- I got your story and Thank You! It's going on the blog in the morning. I'm glad you had some good experiences. I think most did, and I'm surprised that more don't contribute.

Gotta ask -- is it me? Is it that others don't feel comfortable sharing? Or is it that they aren't comfortable writing, thinking they don't write well enough? It's very puzzling to me because Memoirs is getting a good readership, which means people DO come and read. They just don't want to share yet. Any tips, I'm all ears.

Thank you again, my friend. I always know when you send a story, it will be good and it'll touch hearts. A hug of appreciation, Cathy

Craig Latham - January 15 at 7:03pm
I assure you that it isn't you. It is hard to get people to open up. Some feel what they have to say means nothing to anyone but themselves or other Vets (which isn't the case). There isn't a week that goes by that I don't read some sort of Veterans web page or read what they have written in a Guest Book somewhere. Some think they can't write or put any of it into words so that most people will understand.

I write, but this article took me all afternoon to remember. Then sometimes when I'm remembering, I get a little emotional and have to stop for a while. But rest assured, I will write more.
Thanks for having the site Cathy.
Craig

CJ Heck - January 15 at 7:09pm
Thank YOU, Craig. You are one person who is making the site worthwhile for so many others. I'm amazed how it's helped me. Remembering is painful for me, too, but every time I read something by you, or someone else, (and I do get all emotional, too, at times) -- but I always feel better because of it. It's healing. Reading is, and so is the writing. Cathy

Craig Latham - January 15 at 7:16pm
Just a thought, buy maybe you would want to put what you and I talk about here on a blog sometime. That way, others might realize that we aren't just people here, but friends and we are always willing to listen to anyone, anytime, any subject. Craig

CJ Heck - January 15 at 7:17pm
Okay -- that's a great idea. Day after tomorrow, I'll cut and paste this whole conversation on the blog, if that's okay. It's a great idea.  Cathy

Craig Latham - January 15 at 7:19pm
Yep. Do it.  Smiles and Hugs to you. Craig

CJ Heck - January 15 at 7:20pm
The very same backatcha, my friend. It's a great idea. Cathy


***C'mon now, Veterans, just be yourself -- your thoughts and feelings are important.  Talk to me, I care.  Talk to us, we'll listen.  Talk to each other, you all understand.  Leave a comment, start a discussion, bring up a rant -- there isn't anything we can't talk about here.  

“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do. And by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale



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Sunday, January 16, 2011

Craig Latham: Good Memories

I spent my summer of '65 in Dorchester, Massachusetts, a very large suburb of Boston. I was a camp counselor for the Mt. Bowdoin YW/YMCA. I was just a young kid in a big city.  It would be the first of a couple of summers doing this job for my foster-brother, Buzz.

I made many new friends while I was there. Being from another state (Ohio), everyone accepted me into their circle of friends. I was known as "The Hair from Ohio".

One particular counselor that I met was named Ned Ford. He was chubby-faced with red-hair, funny and an all-around good guy from a neighborhood made up of all races. There was always turmoil amongst the different kids there, but being the outsider, I got along pretty well with everyone.

At the end of the summer and the last weekend of camp, the others threw me a going away party. At the party were Mike, Linda, Janet (my first girlfriend ... lol), Ned, Rich and even several more. The party broke up around midnight. Everyone gave me a gift or card and we talked about the past summer -- the trips with the kids to the beach, the amusement parks, zoos and how we would remain friends and write. This didn't happen (except for Janet --we wrote every week for about five months). Ned was one of the last to leave and as he said his good-byes, the last thing he said was "We'll meet again, my friend", and then he was gone.

Now we'll skip forward six years. It's August '71.  I'm a combat writer/photographer in Vietnam and I'm "SHORT".  This means I only have a few days left before I rotate home, back "To The World". I had an assignment at Firebase Tomahawk, the blown off top of a small mountain where artillery units were and infantry companies worked out of.

Tomahawk:
It was late in the week and I didn't want to spend any more time outside the wire at Phu Bai than I had to. I'd made it through my year and all I could think about was going home. There were no more helicopters coming into Tomahawk until Saturday. Tomahawk was about 20 miles or so from Phu Bai.  There was some daylight left, so I decided to try and hitchhike back.

I figured once I humped (hiked) down the road from Tomahawk to QL1 (major highway from Dang to Phu Bai), it shouldn't be a problem getting a ride. I had my rifle, ammo, and ruck to carry. I finally flagged down an Army truck (a deuce-n-1/2), climbed into the back and off we went. There were two guys in the front and me in the back.

The driver asked where I was going and, when I said Phu Bai, he said no problem. I noticed the driver kept looking at me and it was giving me an uneasy feeling. Several times he actually turned around in his seat to look my way. It wouldn't be the first time someone got mugged in the service and now I was getting jittery. Here I had survived my year only to get mugged.

About halfway between one of the villages and Phu Bai, the driver pulled the truck over to the side of the road and stopped -- right in the middle of Bum-Fucked-Egypt. Then I got worried. He got out and walked around to the back of the truck, looked at me and asked, "Do you have a brother?" I said no and he turned and headed back to the front of the truck but then he turned around again, came back, and asked, "Are you SURE you don't have a brother named BUZZ?" Then I noticed the red-hair and his boyish look. Although I had no real brother, BUZZ was my foster-brother who I worked for in Dorchester and I realized who this red-haired soldier was. It was Ned Ford.

We started to chat but then realized it was getting late and it wasn't a good idea to be outside the wire with just the three of us so we headed on to Phu Bai. He dropped me at Brigade HQ and went to park his truck. We had agreed we would meet up at the EM Club after chow.

It turned out that Ned was on his last truck run when he picked me up.  In two days he was headed back home. We had quite a few beers that night. He had been living not more than 100 yards from me for the past year. We had probably passed each other a few times at chow when I wasn't with an infantry unit or at a Firebase. When the night was over, he said, "See, I told you we would meet again". This time no promises were made, but it was nice to know that I was remembered.

Ned moved to New York after that summer in Dorchester. I would hope that somehow he might read this. I doubt it, but you never know. Stranger things have happened.

By the way, "Welcome Home Ned".

Craig Latham
34th PID
101st Airborne Div. (Ambl)
Phu Bai, S. Vietnam
1970-1971


“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do. And by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale