6:30 AT THE PEPPERMILL

I don't like saying goodbye. I've often left places in my life, including college, without saying goodbye to my closest friends. So when my friend Dean called to invite me to dinner at the Peppermill, although I said yes, I didn't like the idea that I'd have to say goodbye to the guys I've grown the closest to. Dean said he'd be calling Michael, Michael (Ellsworth and Montecalvo) and Jerry (Vergara).
This (including Dean Builter himself) comprises my vets group.

Almost fifteen years ago I found these guys--or they found me is more like it. Now that I'm 30 years back from Vietnam, that was halfway back to now.

I owe these guys my life back, it's that simple. Together with Linda Reinberg, our therapist who loved all of us back to life, they gave me a sense of self and of a new reality that I could fit into. Up until the time I joined the group I was wallowing in a kind of warm water bath of self pity, drunken dreams and a generally unrealistic view of living; one also filled with deep rage.

This group got me sober and helped me to stay there. There is no way I could exaggerate the gift these guys gave me.

There is a bond that veterans of the same war have in common that is as strong as any bound that exists. There are things Vietnam Vets know about themselves that cannot be explained nor that I can even sometimes understand. I'll tell you just one story.

When I was the new member in the group, Michael Ellsworth got married for the second time to Maggie. Michael's wedding was the first time I'd sat with our group in public. Michael had given us a table of our own, which he joined from time to time, set to one side of the large outdoor gathering.

For some unexplained reason I felt a real feeling of power just sitting at the table with these guys. It wasn't something I was imagining when others at the wedding seemed to notice the same thing I did. People looked over at us from time to time and commented quietly amongst themselves. We seemed to be set apart from the group in a most real way, exuding a quiet, sober strength.

I still feel this today. I am proud I do.

At the Peppermill a few weeks ago, the night before I began my trip across country, I couldn't tell these guys the gratitude I have for them. Not in person anyway, because I know I would've lost it right there in the restaurant. So I'm doing it now.

What I know absolutely about these men is that I trust them to "cover my back." There are very few people we meet in life that we really trust this much. I think the reason for this trust comes from their individual honesty. I know who they are down deep and I admire what I know.

What a lucky man I am to count Michael, Michael, Dean and Jerry as my friends. Even though I'm moving across the country I'm bringing a lot of who these guys are with me--in who I have grown to be, myself.

I hope someday I will learn to embody the quiet dignity and strength that each of them lives.

This is your day guys; thanks for the gift and happy Veteran's Day.

Posted by Tony at November 11, 2003 12:54 PM