Seligman Time: The Navy - A somewhat family tradition.

My brother Eric and I were raised primarily in the small rural Midwestern town of Paola, Kansas from the time Eric started high school in 1964. Although I did not know it at the time, war had broken out in the small country of Vietnam. That war would change my life, the life of my brother and of nearly every young person in the United States.

In 1968, the year Eric graduated from high school, the war had escalated and thousands of young men and women were being called upon the fight in a war that no one seemed to know much about except what we saw on the news and in the protest songs of the era. The military draft was still in existence and at the age of 18 all American men (or should I say boys), were obligated to sign up.

The only way to "avoid the draft" for most young males was to be in school or to be handicapped in some way. It did not matter if you were "soldier material" or not - only that you were an 18 year old male American citizen. I know that some who read this will take issue with my views on the draft. But I have and always will believe that patriotism does not necessiarly mean killing.

My brother chose college and off he went leaving a huge hole in my world with his absence. I felt abandoned at the time - as if he had left me behind. I'm not sure why I felt that way - only that I did.

Eric was not in college very long (I think only a semester), when we received a letter that he had been dismissed from college due to skipping ROTC classes. As unpredictable as was that letter, the next letter received was totally predictable - Eric had been called to service. My heart sank as I had seen the horrors of this war that had already ravaged the lives of friends who had young men who would never return home.

My brother decided to join the Navy rather than be drafted into the Army and off he went to basic training leaving me with the feeling of abandonment and despair about loosing him to a war I did not understand.

My brother was a gentle person (still is I believe) and not for one solitary moment could I imagine him in combat fighting for his life. As it turned out, my brother was one of the lucky ones. He had joined the nuclear submarine branch of the Navy and never had to serve in Vietnam.

I graduated high school listening to the songs of war protest and watching the news of college campus protesting and the all too vivid war footage. It's a time in my life that I shall never forget. I'm not sure if you could actually call me a hippie, but I lived in fear for friends, prayed for those in Vietnam and thanked God that my brother would be safe. My hair was long, I wore the clothing of the era and chanted with friends to whom ever would listen to allow our young people to come home. I lost two very dear friends to what I considered at the time to be a senseless and cruel war and hated that fact that this had invaided my world.

I can still hear the voice of Neil Young as he sang (referring to the famous incident at Kent State University in Ohio)

On May 4, 1970 four students had been shot dead by the Ohio National Guard on the campus of Kent State University. The writing and recording of the Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young song "Ohio" is somewhat of an urban legend. As the story goes David Crosby and Neil Young were hanging out when Crosby handed Young a copy of Time Magazine with the now infamous picture of the student grieving over the body of a dead protesting classmate who was shot dead by the National Guardsmen. Apparently Young sat down and wrote the song and within 24 hours, the band was recording the song. Acording to Neil Young's biographer, 'In ten lines, Young captured the fear, frustration and anger felt by the youth across the country and set it to a lumbering D-modal death march that hammered home the dread.':

"Tin Soldiers And Nixon's Bombing

We're Finally On Our Own

This Summer I Hear The Drumming

Four Dead In Ohio"

"Gotta get down to it.

Soldiers are gunning us down.

Should have been done long ago.

What if you knew her and

Found her dead on the ground.

How can you run when you know?"

Eric and I were raised in a more gentle time than now. A time when neighbors watched out for each other - a time when friends held on tight to each other - a time of hope for the future and prayers for the end of the war. The war in Vietnam changed that gentle time in American history for me - but most especially for the more than 58,000 American families who lost family in Southeast Asia.