There are certain times in our lives that are heart warming and uplifting. Rare. Yesterday was one.
The Vietnam Living Memorial was dedicated. I missed the dedication in the morning. However made the party from 4-7 in the afternoon.
An experience.
There had to be a 1,000 people. Most seniors. Sixties and seventies. White haired, bald, bearded, paunchy. Smiling , laughing and high fiving each other.
The Vietnam War ripped our country apart. Most were opposed to it. President Johnson wanted it. I have always believed he wanted to be a great war time President as Roosevelt had been.
When the Vietnam veterans returned home, there were no welcoming parades, slaps on the back. No thank yous. They never received credit for having put their lives on the line for their country.
Today, the U.S. as a people have come around to recognizing the wrong done. The veterans are from the 1960 thru early 1970 era.
Key West said thank you, we love you, to the Vietnam veterans yesterday with the dedication and then party at Bayview Park.
Six black granite stones with the names of the 362 who served stand proudly. As proud as the veterans celebrating the event yesterday.
After the Vietnam party, I headed to the outside back bar at Aqua. Knew Mark Watson would be bartending. Mark was recently crowned Fantasy Fest King. Enjoyed chatting with him a while.
Then to Tavern ‘n Town for dinner.
The bar quiet. A lovely lady appeared and sat several seats away. We started chatting. When I had finished dinner, I asked if I could move over.
An interesting person. Her name, Anush. Sparkling eyes. Originally from Armenia, she now lives in London. Vacationing in Key West. She is a cyber security consultant.
We talked quite a while of many things. Agreed to meet for dinner friday evening.
It was back to book writing yesterday afternoon. Knocked out another Growing Up Italian chapter. Revised and edited it several times before I was satisfied.
It is about medical attention in the late 1930s. Home bred. Who went to a doctor? Who could afford a doctor? Someone in the family always knew what to do.
I was 4. We lived third floor front. Something like Clorox was bought by families to clean clothes and whatever else. It was called bouledine. An Italian word. I am not sure I am spelling the word correctly. I googled and could not find what I was looking for. If any of you know, please e-mail me.
In any event, the bouledine came in gallon jugs. My mother gave me an empty jug and told me to place it in the hall with the other empty ones.
The hall was long. I was running. I fell. The empty bouledine bottle cutting the palm of my right hand below the thumb. A large piece of glass sticking out of the wound.
My mother screamed. My Uncle Frank came running up from the second floor. Uncle Frank was carpenter. He took care of the problem
He took a large bread knife and worked the glass out. Cutting me a bit in the process. Then took a needle and thread and sewed the wound. One inch long. Took four stitches. A scar remains today. The four stitches obvious.
Covered the area with mercure com. Everything was covered with mercure com in those days. I do not think it is sold anymore. He wrapped my hand in a clean white cloth. I was the hero on the block the rest of the day.
Dracula in the Operating Room was linked to my Key West Lou website this morning. keywestlou.com.
I have an afternoon visit with the doctor. A follow up visit to my fall last week.
Bocce tonight. Big game! We are in 3rd place. We play the #1 ranked team. They are exceptionally good. Superior. Are first every year. If we win one of the three games, we will consider it a victory.
Enjoy your day!