The Wall
By Lou Christine, May 18, 2007

Monday is Memorial Day. This year marks the 25th anniversary of the Vietnam War Memorial in Washington, D.C. Unfortunately, the United States is involved in another messy conflict.

Despite politics, varying ideals and special interests, despite right or possible wrong, young men and women in uniform refrain from asking the reasons why—they just honor their sworn oath and do their duty.

That’s the way it’s been for all front-line troops through the ages, whether in Patton’s ranks, Napoleon’s cavalry or Caesar’s legions. That’s the way it was for the soldiers in Vietnam.

I presume most readers remember this time in our history, but I can’t know how many of you have seen the Wall and appreciate both its significance and the depth of the sacrifice made by those it honors.

The emotional responses of first-time visitors to the Memorial most likely vary depending on their age, politics and connection to that generation. Certainly there were many citizens oblivious to the conflict and some have remained so, indifferent to the war’s impact on individual lives and families.

Yet if one lingers, the long list of names can begin to have a profound effect. The design of the Memorial parallels the pace and escalation of the war itself. On first approach, the Wall appears somewhat inconsequential, perhaps not as grandiose as might be expected. The initial black marble slabs are about knee-high with a few names etched on them. Yet, with each step the height of the Wall inches upward, one slab next to another, then another, filled with more names. This design element is an integral part of the Memorial, the Wall’s gradual escalation a sobering reminder of how the body count rose as the war dragged on. After about 25 yards the Wall looms large. Onlookers must lift their heads to read the names.

Longtime San Miguel resident Don Clay, a U.S. Marine Corps veteran who served in Saigon, said, “I found the Wall extremely moving. It rattles the senses.” Air Force veteran Bob Scott shrugged when asked about the Wall, the way many from his era do. “I really don’t want to talk about it.” US Army vet Barry Jakow said he was discharged a week before his unit moved out. “I’ve suffered from a guilt complex and do ’til this day,” said Jakow. “I knew my buddies were in the thick of things and I wasn’t there. I often wonder what happened to those guys. These days I can’t watch a Vietnam War movie without my eyes welling up with tears!”

Vietnam began as a small skirmish and grew into an inferno. The firestorm gained an appetite that was fueled by the men and women in the midst of the death and destruction. The psychological and physical scars can last for decades.

Many of those whose names are on the Wall were given little thought back then. While they were mired in mud, with danger all around, people back in the US were screeching for the Beatles, latching onto whimsical fads and admiring Twiggy. Many seemed to ignore the bumpy ride until the wheels began to come off. Then society took stock, but too many death certificates had already been signed. The Wall is their memorial.


San Miguel resident Jack Jennings pulled two tours of duty in Vietnam as a Marine Corps officer, the first as a commander in an attack squadron in Chu Lai in 1966–67 and the second in the late ’60s as an intelligence officer at MAC V Headquarters near the capital. Jennings, a career officer, said he has not visited the Wall, but would like to. He reflects that the war wasn’t well thought out, that in reality most Vietnamese, especially Ho Chi Minh, were trying to unite their country, which they eventually did.
Sanmiguelense George Fields fought as an Army Ranger in Pleiku, and many of his friends’ names are on that Wall.

Pre-Vietnam War memorials honored those from past eras. If they were still alive, most of those whose names grace the Vietnam Wall would have been entering their prime when the memorial was unveiled back in 1982.

The Wall is etched with over 58,000 names. At its mid-point it reaches a pinnacle, just as the war did. Then the Wall takes a 90-degree turn and begins to slope downward, de-escalating, as did the war.

The brilliance of the monument lies in its artistic emulation of the war’s progression. The Wall just dwindles down and ends, the same way it began.

Today the dead are still on duty, eternal sentries. Though the rain falls, the sun shines and snow sticks and thaws, the monument and their names stand as crucial reminders to us all.


Lou Christine is a local writer and long-time contributor to Atención. He was a seargent in the US Army, 1966–68.









Letters to the Editor
May 18, 2007,



Dear Editor,

I liked the article on tequila (May 4) but I think the tequila drinkers of SMA could use some additional information.

As is indicated on the label of each bottle, there are four types of tequila. I started receiving an education on the subject when I participated in the annual Beber Festival, for the producers of beverages, held in a stadium in Mexico City. By far the most interesting exhibit was the tequila tasting, provided by a maker of bottles for the tequila companies.

I sneaked away from my duties over several days until I had tried them all. The well-dressed men tasting the tequila reminded me of sophisticated Frenchmen discussing fine wines. One of them (facetiously I think) offered me a lifetime supply of tequila if I would write a guide in English about it.

Tequila Blanco: This type of tequila is distilled only once. Even the best of it—such as the Herradura Blanco favored by many well-to-do Mexicans—tastes like firewater to me.

Tequila Joven: Also distilled only once, this type is aged a few months in oak barrels, which smooths it out a bit. Casco Viejo, which costs less than 100 pesos, is, in my opinion, the best value in a tequila to drink straight.

Tequila Reposado: This type is distilled again once or twice, but to me it is still firewater…toned down somewhat.

Tequila Añejo: With the successful merchandising by the tequila industry, they borrowed from the rum makers the term añejo, which indicates that the beverage has been aged in oak barrels for several years. Particularly for those used to drinking wines aged in oak, this is the best tequila to drink straight. It is also the most expensive. The best tequila I have tasted is Centenario Añejo, which costs more than 300 pesos. One can taste it for free where it is produced in Arandas, a cattle-and-farming town which is becoming an important tequila-producing center. It is a far more interesting place to visit and sample tequila than the sleazy, Tijuana-like town of Tequila, on the far side of 

Guadalajara. (Arandas is on the near side.)

My favorite tequila drink is made with the juice of half a fresh grapefruit and an equal amount of tequila (en las rocas con sal), which I call a Salida de Queretáro, because I first made it in the house of a friend who lived there. Any kind of fruit juice goes well with tequila, half-and-half. Many think that both tequila and cranberry juice are good for you…so would not a cranquila be even better?

David Ramsey

Dear Editor,

Congratulations on the garbage clean-up in La Lejona—I hope it will inspire other neighborhoods to do the same. I did want to point out that the trash problem in Mexico is not solely due to ignorance or apathy, but comes also from a widespread awareness of the jobs created by littering: “tirar basura genera empleos.” The people whom one sometimes sees gathering discarded bottles and cans along the highway turn them in for some extra pesos, so pitching a Coke bottle out the car window is akin to giving a “limosna.” Needless to say, we can only hope that Mexico’s future will bring less unsightly litter and fewer people so desperate they are forced to collect it to buy their daily meal.

Kati Blake Bohne

Dear Editor,

The article condemning The Secret seemed to be shallow and unwarrantedly judgmental. What Mr. Dispenza describes as a “Gimme” mentality is, to me, rather a simple but very potent method of self-empowerment for the many persons who are now, some because of this movie, just starting out on their own spiritual paths as well as for those of us who have been seekers for decades.

The author points out that the basic philosophy behind the secret has been around for decades. I suggest that if he were to go back a little further, 2000 years ago, and study the Essene writings, he would find virtually the same philosophy. It wasn’t wrong then, it hasn’t been wrong through the ensuing years, and it is not wrong now. Granted, someone could choose to use it in a totally self-serving manner. The author suggests that all who are using the method of the Secret are doing this and I KNOW this to be untrue. My friends who use this method are extremely other-oriented and use it to aid society on both micro- and macro-cosmic levels.

The author omitted mention of the quantum physics proofs behind the power of this philosophy, several of which were given in the film, by physicist Fred Wolfe. The most important of these is wave-particle dualism, where any quantum particle, whether it is in you, me, a chair or a tree, can instantaneously transform into a wave and instantaneously reappear somewhere else in some other form. These migrant particles have been proven to influence their left-behind fraternal particles and to be equally influenced by them at great distances, showing us that these particles have a means of instantaneous communication. One can extrapolate from this that the old saying, “We are all One” is, indeed true and that, no, “the believing that we create reality entirely on our own…” does not leave us in “a terribly lonely place from which a downward spiral is inevitable.” It shows instead that we are all connected, all beings of light and energy that interchanges among each other and among all that is.

Paula Moran



Dear Editor,

I just read Joseph Dispenza’s response to the The Secret and can only add my heart felt applause...bravo! I couldn’t watch the movie, found it so very, “you too can have a two million dollar home and a trophy wife.” Maybe it got better as it went on but I didn’t have the stomach for it. So, thank you, Joseph, for your wonderful offering. I hope you will write more and write often.

Kathryn Wilder