ONE VETERAN'S REFLECTION: I SAW YOU, BROTHER

Oh, how grateful I am to the organizers of the Quincy Veterans' Appreciation Parade for their work, their passion and their ability not to let the perfect become the enemy of the good. I shall write more about these humble giants later. But this is for the Vietnam vets who quietly watched the parade.

Today, Brother, I want you to know I saw you. You were back away from the sidewalk, watching the parade quietly. But I saw you on every block. You and I had talked earlier about your time in country, or we hadn't. You were wearing unit insignia, or you weren't. You were wearing a Vietnam Vet's ball cap, or you weren't. You had the "in country" ribbon on your fatigue jacket, or you didn't. You and I were acquainted, or we weren't But I saw you, Brother. You were there on every block, because you had to be. And I saw you.

Brother, I knew why you couldn't be inside the parade elements. We have never been easily aborbed within the rank of our other brothers, from other times. You couldn't stay away, either. You felt guys from Korea and the "Greatest Generation" and even the very special Gulf war stars could never understand what it was like to return home and be spat upon, to go back to work and find people keeping sharp objects away from you, to go to college and have the seats next to you in class empty. So you stayed back, not only out of the parade but as far away from the route as you could place yourself and still see. But, brother, I saw you.

Brother, you knew that we formed our own veterans' group. You knew that its only purpose is to make sure future veterans are never treated as our brothers....and you..have been treated. And you know, hard as we try, we're failing. Despite all the patriotic speeches, our country "can't afford" us, just as it "can't afford" the new crop of our brothers and sisters who will need services.

I saw you, Brother. The long salute as I walked was for you. When I touched my heart right after saluting, it was for you. It was to tell you I saw you, Brother, more clearly than you can ever know and on every block of this parade route.

And, now, I want to tell you something else. The people who were out there are ready to thank you. I understand why you could not walk with us this time. But you saw the same people I saw. They want to make it right. Next year, let them see you as I saw you. Let them embrace you. Any element in that parade would be proud to have you, Brother. Walk with me next year. Sure, one parade and one round of applause will not fix forty years of apathy for your service. But you deserve the applause and the gratitude. Come out and accept it.

Know this, my brother: I saw you on every block, gave you the salute you deserve and touched my heart to let you know that your service and your sacrifices after serving touched it far deeper than these, or any, words can express.

Next year, walk with me, Brother.