There were things in the Sixties that were whispered around the kids. The Vietnam War being one of them. I remember watching Walter Cronkite every night. Cameras were there, up close and personal with soldiers making it the first and last war to be filmed on the battlefield. I remember some nights the soldiers looked like a group of friends hanging out on a Friday night and some nights THERE WOULD BE BLOOD. On those nights I would look away and hope that nobody would die. My grandmother had a grandchild there and I remember her being very worried, so I can remember adding my cousin's name to my prayers at night. There were boys lost in my small town. I didn't know any of them but I remember the adults talking about the devastated families. There was also talk of guys coming home and having trouble adapting to life out of the battle zones. I remember a lady in a store talking about her son sleeping on the floor because he could not get used to the comfort of his bed. I was not aware until the early seventies that there were people protesting the war. My cousin's class went on a field trip to Washington DC and one of the protesters put his sign down and SHE TOOK IT. She brought it home as a souvenir, I can't believe the teacher let her. The sign in big, black, block letters said" Make Love Not War". That made an impression and in two years I was with that same cousin when the sirens rung, signifying the end of the Vietnam War.
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