by george chavez

Created on: July 26, 2008

The fabric of society suffered a huge tear during the Vietnam War. Families all over this globe were affected by it. So were governments and businesses and cultures When I recall the Vietnam War I can still feel the fear, the lump rising in my throat, the goosebumps rising on my skin. To me the war meant death and...and murder really. The images sent back by the journalists of people, women, children, teens, whites, blacks, soldiers and civilians running and fighting and dying scared me. My oldest brother had signed up with the Marines when he was seventeen. Seventeen! He was over there.

I was 12 years old when this war ended. I remember riots in the street. My elementary school was accidentally tear gassed one day by the National Guard Helicopters who were trying to gas some demonstrators at a nearby university. We had to hold wet paper towels over our faces.

Riot police were in the streets in their fighting gear shooting bird shot and tear gas at rioters. My own mother was chased down the main street of town in a mad rush against a crowd by the police. They used to be called the Fuzz, or Pigs. I never liked that. I always respected cops. I knew they were following orders. And I knew the orders were wrong.

I was fearful because in a short period of time our very own President was murdered, people were playing strange music and dressing funny, the older generation who had made everyone feel so protected for so long could not do so anymore. It was as if some giant hand had taken a snow globe, shook it up, and set it upside down with everything twirling and spinning the wrong direction. Maybe not the wrong direction but in a different direction.

We went through LBJ and next was Tricky Dick Nixon. The government put our soldiers in a meat grinder and packaged them in body bags. Our soldiers were brave and fought well. I was proud of what they were doing but I did not want them to die for this...this...lunacy. There was a commercial that ran about that time that noted if the Vietnam War continued at its current pace anyone who was 12 years old at the time could expect to be fighting in that far away war.

Godbless those soldiers who served in Vietnam. I thank them for what they did. I wonder how many others could have been as brave as them?

Looking back on those terrible times is like reliving an extraordinarily terrorizing dream. Over the years specific details blur and soften but the emotions remain the same.

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