Armed with my pastels I headed into the District for some real life drawing. Destination - The Vietnam Memorial. I was accompanied by my dad. He is a Vietnam Vet and this visit was forty one years in the making. He wasn't sure if he would even be able to walk over to the Wall. His objective was to "get near it." I dropped him off, found a parking spot and returned to find him on a bench to the left of monument. I gave him his lunch, space to greive and told him where I would be going. "Fergus J. Carroll," he uttered quitely..."56". A giant pit grew in my belly. Without another word between us, I kissed him goodbye and rolled my art supplies down the cobble stones toward the icy black monster. All of those names, all the sons, brothers, uncles, dads, granddads, nephews who honorably served and ultimately paid for our freedom with their lives.
...to be continued