NJ Vietnam Veterans' Memorial Foundation
2007 Scholarship Winner
Melody Lyman
Midland Park, NJ
My Visit to the New Jersey Vietnam Veterans' Memorial
My whole life I have lived in the town of Midland Park, population 6,953. The town's total area encompasses less than two square miles. It is a wonderful place to live. We have yearly town-wide picnics and quaint windmills decorate yards to celebrate our Dutch heritage. I have fond memories of summers that were punctuated by block parties as parents gathered on their front porches while the neighborhood kids captured lightning bugs in jars. To fit into its theme of small-town Americana, the encyclopedia lists my town's noted resident as baseball legend Johnny Vander Meer. Sounds like a pretty safe place, doesn't it?
However, it could not escape the horrors of Vietnam. The encyclopedia does not mention the Vietnam soldiers that used to occupy seats at the dinner tables of the residents of Midland Park. They no longer watch baseball, eat hot dogs or sip lemonade on those front porches. I know who they are because there is a plaque with their names on it at the high school: Steven Foster, Norman Goble, Michael Parmerter, Brian Wedlake and Alan Zimmerman. When we studied about Vietnam in school, I looked up their biographies and the one that particularly struck me was about Steven Foster. He enlisted in the Marine Corps on his 18th birthday and was hit with shrapnel in Vietnam only 19 days before he was scheduled to come home. Five days later he died. He was 20 years old. I just turned 18 two months ago. My biggest fear is leaving home for the first time to go away to college. My sister is 20. She is engaged to be married and has a whole lifetime of happiness in front of her. Steven Foster at age 18 faced a fear that I can hardly imagine, and my concerns about homesickness now seem pretty minuscule. His life was cut short at the same age that my sister is now, and he was robbed of his future.
It is because of Steven and his story that I wanted to see the New Jersey Vietnam Veterans' Memorial. Somehow his life and death did not seem real to me - how could someone my age be the victim of such an atrocity? It seemed more like a fictional movie to TV than an encounter of a real live person. I went with my parents and I was not prepared for how the whole experience would move me. My only other interaction with honoring veterans had to do with the town Memorial Day parade, and that seemed more festive than solemn. When I first walked from the parking lot to the paths leading up the entrance, beautiful gardens and a chorus of singing birds greeted me. However, when I walked through the entrance into the memorial, the black walls seemed to drown the bird's songs. The only sound was the distant impersonal swish of highway traffic. The area was much bigger than I imagined, and I was impressed with its design but at the same time saddened by its purpose. We were the only ones there, and in spontaneous reverence, we chose not to speak. Instead, we let the memorial speak to us; it communicated loss, pain, sadness, worry and fear. It told of sons, daughters, fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters. I felt a lump in my throat when I thought of Steven Foster and his family.
Fixed on my mission, I moved along the walls to find Steven's name. I soon discovered that each panel represented a day of the year and as a result, was able to find Steve fairly quickly. My fingers traced his name over the cold stone, and for the first time, his story seemed real. My father was at the opposite end of the memorial when I shouted, "I found Steve Foster!" My voice echoed throughout as it bounced his name off the walls. As I listened, I found this symbolic of how the names on the walls would echo memories for the families that mourned them. It was then that I noticed the tree in the middle and the larger than life scale statue of three soldiers. As I walked down the steps to get a closer look at the beautiful statue, I noticed a card placed on the outstretched hand of the wounded soldier on the ground. It had an American flag on the outside with the words printed on the bottom, "To our soldiers and veterans *Please Read!" I opened the card to find the following words:
Dear soldiers and veterans and their families,
We just wanted to let you know how much we honor and appreciate all you have sacrificed for our great country and us. We teach our four children to respect all those who serve and have served. You are all always in our prayers. We will always remember! Thank you - God bless you - God bless America.
The card says it all. I must always remember the men and women and their families who have sacrificed to let me enjoy the freedoms of my country and the safety of my own small town. The NJ Vietnam Veterans' Memorial is a tribute to their bravery and will be there as a reminder for generations to come. Although I never knew Steven Foster, I would have been proud and honored to be his friend. "Greater love has no one than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends" (John 15:13).