Marshall Ramsey

It was a crisp fall day on the Washington Mall.  An older gentleman walked with purpose toward the black, marble wall. On that wall were 58,272 names. Names that had left their lives back in Vietnam.  Leaves crunched under his feet as a cold wind chilled his heart.

Captain Daniel Gober had served for two years in Vietnam. He remembered the day he came back home — or let’s just say he had tried to forget it.  Protestors had spit on him and yelled, “Baby killer.”  Flames in his soul still burned at the thought.

“Father forgive them for they know not of what they do.”  How many times had he recited that to calm down?  Too many.

The Vietnam Memorial was controversial when it opened in 1982. Designed by Maya Ying Lin, a 21-year-old Harvard University architecture student from Athens, Ohio, it was the winning design from 1,421 entries.  It consisted of two simple walls that descend until you get to the middle.  Many of his veteran brothers had protested the design when it was first revealed. But over time, it became known as the most moving monument on the Mall. The 58,272 names powerfully illustrate the incredible loss this country suffered. The memorial quickly became a shrine.

Daniel Gober headed toward the name he was looking for. The one name he truly cared about. The name of Sergeant David Gober.  His little brother.

Danny and David were inseparable as children. One-year apart, everything Daniel did, David did too.  When Daniel went off to West Point, David soon joined the Army.  Both boys turned out to be natural leaders.  David quickly rose to Sergeant and was known for his calm leadership under fire.  Both were shipped to Vietnam to their mother’s horror.

Daniel still remembered that night they ran into each other in Saigon.  The laughter. The stories. The beer. It was the last time he saw his brother alive.

He came home for the funeral that fall.  Protesters spitting on him in the airport scratched at an already open wound.  He felt the flames burn again in his soul: “Father forgive them for they know not of what they do.”

Things went downhill quickly after that. His mother had a mental breakdown and was institutionalized. His father started drinking.  Daniel buried them both within a year. People talk about the cost of the Vietnam War: His family photo album was  a documentary of it. It had nearly chopped down his family tree.

Daniel came up to the spot where his brother’s name was. He put his palm on the cold marble and began to talk  to his brother like he did every Veteran’s Day.

“You were the best little brother a man could ask for. Damn the war. Damn the mine that killed you.  I know you’re up there with Mom & Dad  — so please tell them hello for me. Man, I look forward to the day soon that I will able to join you.  Because  the worst part of you dying is that I miss you so much.  Oh yeah, you wouldn’t believe how the country now reacts now to the military coming home.  They thank them in airports. They are praised in cartoons and on the radio.  But there are still serious problems.  Too many of us struggle to get back into society.  I pray that is remedied some day.” The old Captain paused for a second, looked at the name and finished by saying, “Well, I need to go.  God bless you David. I miss you. And I love you so much.”

Tears ran down the older man’s face as he knelt down to rest. After 4o years, the pain of losing his brother still crippled him.

A young soldier came up behind him, put his hand on his shoulder and said, “Sir, are you OK?”  Daniel turned around to look at the Sergeant and said, “Yes. Can you help me up?”

“No problem, sir.”

The Sergeant reached out his hand and pulled the old Captain up. He then hugged him.

And on that cold Veterans Day, Captain Daniel Gober was brought to his feet by Sergeant David Gober II.  Both men looked at the beloved name on the wall one more time and walked back to their car.

Fear and Hope walked down the leave-covered path.  Both waved their arms wildly as they carried on a conversation for the ages.  Leaves fell to at their feet as they walked into the darkness.

“I’m winning!” Fear proclaimed.

Hope slowed down and thought about the last few years.  She had to admit that Fear had a point.

“People are starting to snap.  Protests are erupting, families are in despair and leadership is pretty much nonexistent,” Fear smugly continued. “Business has never been better. People are giving up.  Institutions and heroes are failing. And to quote James Brown, ‘I feel good!’ about it all.”

Hope continued to walk silently, allowing Fear’s boasts to sink in.  Hope and Fear were like stocks and bonds. Traditionally, when one was up, the other was down. Judging by the evening news, it would be fair to say that Hope was down right now.

More leaves fell off the tree and crunched under their feet. Winter was approaching rapidly and the last of the foliage was on the ground.  These were cold, dark times.

They came to a clearing overlooking a small reservoir.  Both sat down on the hillside and Fear pointed to the sky. “Look at the darkness.  Look at the inky black water beneath it.  That’s where the world is right now.  People have given up on you, Hope.”

Hope just sat quietly.  Then she stood up, brushed off her bottom and started to silently mutter a quiet prayer. She raised her hands toward the stars and pointed to the same dark sky in front of them.  A chorus of birds chirped in the distance as if to announce something grand in the works.  Hope continued to stand silently and overlook the water.

The first pink rays of dawn erupted on the horizon. Pink and purple turned to red and then orange.  The blackness of night recoiled in horror almost like the Wicked Witch doused by Dorothy’s bucket.  Light tickled across the water to their feet. Hope stood up straighter as the day pushed back the night.  It was the promise of a new day.

Fear looked at her and knew that he had been temporarily beat back.

Hope began to speak, “You may be winning, but I’m still here.  And if people have hope, even in the smallest amount, you may win the battle but you will NEVER win the war. Hope is a gift given to humans.  And I intend to be there for them.”

“Let’s go have breakfast,” Fear abruptly changed the subject. “I’ll buy.”

“You’re on,” said Hope. As they walked back toward town, she knew that Fear would get the best of her again. But for right now, she knew that she had the upper hand.

The sun rose over the sea of campaign signs in front of the church.  Like mushrooms after a rain, they had sprung up the day before the election. The election was now over but the signs remained.

In a hotel room twenty miles away, a candidate woke up with a killer headache. It had been a hard-fought campaign. He had traveled nearly 70,000 miles since the campaigning began and his body felt it. He was no spring chicken.  And today he felt fried.

But he had won.  That took away a lot of his fatigue.

He had won by promising his donors what they wanted. He had won by making cliched promises to the voters.  When it came to the art of pandering, he was Picasso.  Now he faced a more daunting task: Leadership. He had to lead.  As much as he wanted to just please the small majority of people who had voted for him yesterday, he realized he had to represent 100% of the people in his district.  It was the difference between being a leader and being a political hack.

His head hurt.

He walked into the bathroom, splashed cold water on his face and looked into the mirror.  Did he have it in him? Could he make Mississippi a better place?  Playing politics was so much easier.  Tackling historical problems like poverty and educational woes loomed over him.  What could he do to get people back to work? How could he attract jobs to an area that needed them like the desert needs rain?

He had won. He had achieved his dream. But like most dreams, he had to eventually wake up.  He had to wake up and lead.

He took two ibuprofen and made some coffee. The next four years would define who he was as a person.  It was time for him to rise to the occasion.

Maybe later. He laid back down and drifted off back off to sleep. He’d be in the Capitol facing problems soon enough.  It was time to once again bask in his victory.