A War Seen Clearer Through Time.

This year, Americans will celebrate the 92nd anniversary of Veterans Day, which began with a Presidential proclamation as Armistice Day in November of 1919.

Armistice Day was initially set aside to honor veterans of World War I, but after the great mobilization of Soldiers, Sailors, Marines and Airmen during World War II, and after American forces had fought aggression in Korea, Congress amended the official remembrance by striking the word "Armistice", and inserting in its place the word "Veterans." With the approval of this legislation, November 11th became a day to honor American veterans of all wars.

I am old enough to remember a generation when Veteran’s Day was barely acknowledged even by the retailers who might benefit from additional sales.  Our then President Jimmy Carter, in his own words described America as struggling through “a malaise” where heroes and patriotism were but a faded memory.

But morning in America dawned, and with it a new Presidency which restored hope and faith not only for every day Americans, but for the men and women who so proudly served this country.  In the years that followed, successive actions in Grenada, Lebanon, Bosnia, Kuwait, Iraq, and Afghanistan have served to elevate our fighting men and women back to the proud pedestal once held when their Fathers fought “The Good War”, but it wasn’t always that way…

From the end of the Korean Conflict till President Kennedy began his deployment of “Military Advisors” to the country of Vietnam in 1961, the United States was generally able to skirt the many local and regional squabbles taking place around the globe.  This country’s actual military involvement in Vietnam began as assistance to the French in the fall of 1932.  It would take more than three decades, but our small contingent of advisors would grow to a force that would virtually destroy one nation, and eternally fracture another.

The war in Vietnam, unlike virtually every conflict this Nation had seen before, was an action whose goals were essentially political.  At risk was not our independence, our southern or western boarders, our union, or even freedom itself; it was our government’s desire to restrain the growth and expansion of a rival form of government called Communism.  With war aims as insipid as those, it is in hindsight no wonder the conflict left us holding our first military defeat, and nursing a deeply divided country back from the brink of social anarchy. 

It is embarrassing to look back now and realize just how many in this nation vented their anger and disdain not just on those in power, but on the Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen, and Marines who in their loyalty and service to this country, were powerless to do anything but advance and enforce the goals of their commanders.

Five difficult years had passed from the last helicopter leaving Saigon in April of 1975 till the inauguration of Ronald Reagan as President.  It took nearly as long as the war itself, but America was again ready to restore its faith and confidence in those who fill the boots that protect us.  Perhaps no greater Mea Culpa  could be seen than when some half a million Americans of all ages, races, and backgrounds lined Broadway in lower Manhattan on May 7, 1985 as 25,000 of our Veterans of South East Asia proudly marched the parade path.

Earlier that year, President Reagan accepted on behalf of a grateful nation, the then completed Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington D.C.  An almost obelisk like scare in the landscape, the memorial was unlike anything this nation had seen before.

Carved in its stones is the story of America, of a continuing quest to preserve both democracy and decency.  There are 58,267 names now listed on that polished black wall, including those added in 2010.  Something to think about is that most of the surviving parents of the dead, are now deceased themselves.

The names are arranged in the order in which they were taken from us by date, and within each date, the names are alphabetized. It is hard to believe we have lived 36 years since the last casualties.

The first known casualty was Richard B. Fitzgibbon, of North Weymouth, Mass., listed by the U.S. Department of Defense as having been killed on June 8, 1956. His name is listed on the Wall with that of his son, Marine Lance Cpl. Richard B. Fitzgibbon III, who was killed on Sept. 7, 1965.  The last American Soldier killed in the War was Kelton Rena Turner, an 18-year old Marine, killed in action on May 15, 1975.

There are three sets of Fathers and sons on the Wall. 39,996 on the Wall were just 22 or younger.  The largest age group, 8,283, were just 19 years old.  12 soldiers on the Wall were 17 years old, 5 were 16, and one soldier, PFC Dan Bullock was 15 years of age when lost in battle.

997 soldiers were killed on their first day in Vietnam, 1,448 soldiers were killed on their last.  31 sets of brothers are on the Wall, forever reminding us that thirty one sets of parents lost two of their sons.

8 Women are on the Wall, killed while nursing the wounded.  244 soldiers were awarded the Medal of Honor during the Vietnam War; 153 of them are on the Wall.

West Virginia had the highest casualty rate per capita in the nation with 711 killed.  Beallsville, Ohio with a population of only 475 lost 6 of her sons.  The most deaths for a single day was on January 31, 1968 at 245.  The most deaths for a single month was May 1968 at 2,415.

For many Americans who read this, they will only see the numbers that the Vietnam War created. To those of my generation that survived the war, and to the families of those who did not, we see the faces, we feel the pain that these numbers created. They were our friends, Fathers, Husbands, Wife's, sons and daughters.

There were deep divisions about the wisdom and rightness of the Vietnam War. Yet after more than a decade of desperate boat people, after the killing fields of Cambodia, after all that has happened in that unhappy part of the world, who can doubt that the cause for which our men fought was just?  Through the hindsight of historical analysis, it was after all the cause of freedom, just imperfectly pursued.

This Veterans Day, as we do every year, we take a moment to embrace the gentle heroes of Vietnam and of all our wars. We remember those who were called upon to give their last full measure of devotion for our country, and we remember those who were prepared to make that sacrifice if demanded of them, though it never was. Most of all, we remember the devotion and gallantry with which all of them ennobled their nation. Our liberties, our values, all for which America stands is safe today because brave men and women have been ready to face the fire at freedom's front. And we thank G-d for them.

How G-d Created the E.M.T.

When the Lord made EMT's and Paramedics, he was into his sixth day of overtime when an angel appeared and said, "You're doing a lot of fiddling around on this one." And the Lord said, "Have you read the specs on this order?

An EMS provider has to be able to carry an injured person up a wet, grassy hill in the dark, dodge stray bullets to reach a dying child unarmed, enter homes the health inspector wouldn't touch, and not wrinkle their uniform."

"They have to be able to lift 3 times their own weight, crawl into wrecked cars with barely enough room to move, and console a grieving mother as they are doing CPR on a baby they know will never breathe again."

"They have to be in top mental condition at all times, running on no sleep, black coffee and half-eaten meals. And they have to have six pairs of hands."  The angel shook her head slowly and said, "Six pairs of hands, no way."

"It's not the hands that are causing me problems," said the Lord, "It's the three pairs of eyes an EMT has to have." "That's on the standard model?" asked the angel. The Lord nodded. 

"One pair that sees open sores as they're drawing blood and asks the patient if they may be HIV positive," (when they already know, and wish they'd taken that accounting job), another pair here, on the side of the head for their partners' safety, and another pair of eyes in front that can look supportively at a frightened person and gently explain that their spouse of many years has departed this life."

"Lord," said the angel, touching his sleeve, "rest and work on this tomorrow." "I can't," said the Lord, "I already have a model that can talk a 250 pound drunk out from behind a steering wheel without incident and feed a family of five on a private service paycheck."

The angel circled the model of the medic very slowly, "Can it think?" she asked. "You bet," said the Lord. "It can tell you the symptoms of 100 illnesses; recite drug calculations in its sleep; intubate, defibrillate, medicate, and continue CPR nonstop over terrain that any doctor would fear, and still it keeps its sense of humor.

This medic also has phenomenal personal control. He can deal with a multi-victim trauma, coax a frightened elderly person to unlock their door, comfort an assault victim's family, and then read an article in the daily paper about responders being too slow to locate a house (which had no street sign and no house numbers.)"

Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek of the EMT. "There's a leak," she pronounced. "I told you that you were trying to put too much into this model." "That's not a leak," said the Lord, "It's a tear." "What's the tear for?" asked the angel.

"It's for bottled-up emotions, for patients they've tried in vain to save, for commitment to that hope that they will make a difference in a person's chance to survive, for seeing an accident victim walk again, for the family time they will miss while serving the community, for life." 

"You're a genius," said the angel.

G-d replied…..

"I didn't put it there."

For My Italian Friends

The Jewish holiday of Yom Kippur is a tough one to say the least.  25 hours of fasting, introspection, and almost mandatory attendance at synagogue services where we spend the better part of the day trying to convince G-d and ourselves that this year, we’ll be better if he just gives us a chance.  Never mind that we are all likely repenting for the same things we repented for the year before, and the year before that.

 This year, as with most, the twenty five hours of Caloric abstinence ended with a meal called the “Break-fast” at the home of my Wife’s Parents.  The repast, which can be as extensive and labor intensive as a Thanksgiving dinner to prepare, is in this family at least, an extravaganza of dairy based, brunch style entrees meant to be easy on the stomach after so many hours without a bite.  This year, Mom invited cousins we had not seen in some time, as well as friends from just around the corner. 

Now the first few minutes of most of these meals are pretty quiet as everyone tries to get as many blintzes and bagels into their mouths as will fit.  But as the lox begins to disappear, and the hunger pains begin to subside, the conversation begins. 

With the headlines being what they are, it was only natural for a group of well educated adults to enter into a discussion about current events.  Were this just a conversation between my Father-in-law, who believes the only President worse than the one we have, was the one he replaced (with Carter pulling a close third), and I, the discussion would be lively enough.  But with Cousin Randy, a successful businessman having views just to the right of the Reverend Falwell, and Dad’s friend, the Judge, somewhat conservative and practical, but pessimistic that any hope is left for this country to turn around any time soon sitting at the table; I felt the tension begin to mount.

The gloves came off as the group of us attempted to solve all of our nation’s problems from unemployment and immigration to corruption and fiscal accountability.  An ambitious enough task in itself, but where nerves were finally struck, was when the discussion turned to the moral fiber of it all.

America has seen its share of tough times.  In the last 100 years, we have fought two world wars, been devastated by both disease and depression, and have lost Presidents to assassination and resignation, and all of this pales to the struggles and loss of life that preceded it in our first 100 years. Yet I can see no moment in our past where the moral fiber and decency that has held us up as a light and example to all other nations has been so challenged or even endangered, as it is today.

From the endless parade of Housewives on the Bravo Network to the sad scenes of child stars turned crack addicts, incoherently slurring their way through a 12 episode series, our sense of what is acceptable has hit an all time low.  We live in a world where athletes have multi-million dollar contracts waiting for them as they exit prison, and politicians caught lying, stealing from the public, or unfaithful to their wives, are rewarded with book and television deals shortly after blaming their misdeeds on their childhoods, their opponents, or some convenient addiction to the prescription drug.

As we commiserated over the litany of offenses to our society and our senses that seem to be driving their way deeper into our lives, one area in particular struck the Judge with special distaste.   For years now, cable television, movie scripts, and even the average “Joe” on the street have been slandering and demeaning the proud accomplishments and successes of Italian Americans.

While movies like Good Fellas (1990), A Bronx Tale (1993), and Casino (1995), all preceded it, the HBO Series “Sopranos” (1999-2007) did little to improve the image of Italian Americans. Today, an even more distorted view is offered up in the form of the MTV series “The Jersey Shore” depicting obvious Italian youth winding their way through life drunk, stoned, stupid, and forever breaking the law.

The Judge shared with me how his Father drove a truck to feed the family and put him through law school.  His uncle sold cheese, and while he ultimately became successful, it was not before losing everything three times over.

After listening to his stories, and in the spirit of this being the 74^th anniversary of our national celebration of Columbus Day, I decided to do a little research of my own and share with you a little of the true “reality” of Italian American heritage.

 Between the years 1876 to 1976, the U.S. was the largest single recipient of Italian immigrants in the world.  The Italians played a major role in the social fabric of this young nation with individuals rising to national stature in many different fields.  From 1880 to 1900, southern Italian immigrants became the predominant Italian émigré reaching nearly 485,000 in that mass migration.

In the U.S., where by the turn of the 20^th century cheap land could no longer be found, the mostly agricultural Italians in Italy became mostly urban in America.  Starting from the bottom of the occupational ladder and working up, they accepted jobs such as shoe shinning, rag picking, sewer cleaning, and whatever hard, dirty, dangerous jobs others didn't want. Even children worked at an early age, often at the expense of their education. The Italians were known for rarely accepting charity or resorting to prostitution for money, another reflection of patterns of morality brought with them from Italy.

Living conditions for the Italians tended to be over crowded and filthy.  Italian laborers also tended to skimp on food in a desperate attempt to save money. However, after time, and the later generations found their way, the dirtiness of their homes disappeared along with the complaint of weak Italians from lack of nutrition.

The Italians who immigrated to our shores were noted for their diligence and sobriety as workmen. In the late 19th and 20th centuries, Italians often became fishermen, shoemakers, waiters, fruit sellers, and tradesmen. Most were unskilled laborers though, working in mines and construction. Over the years, the Italians rose up the economic scale acquiring job skills in blue-collar jobs as well as becoming educated and entering into professions.

Italian immigrants established hundreds of mutual aid societies, based mainly on kinship and place of birth. As large numbers of Italians began to settle in America, they began to establish enclaves where they felt they would be safe from the prejudice and fears of the largely Irish and German communities that surrounded them. These communities are often referred to as Little Italy's and would be a mix of small business, bakeries, taverns and men and women selling breads and fruits from push-carts. Many of these communities would publish their own Italian-language newspapers, which contained news from Italy, promoted Italian culture and provided an outlet for frustrated new immigrants who could not yet fully understand English.

"La Familiga" (the family) was at the core of Italian immigrant life, and often seen as the root of survival. As the immigrants settled in America, however, certain traditions pertaining to the family began to change. The condition of life in America was not conducive to the patriarchal culture of Italy and the language barriers served to give the children unprecedented control over the decisions of the families.

Today, the descendants of those early Italian immigrants number nearly 16 million, according to the U.S. census of 2000; although through intermarriage, the number of people in the United States with at least one Italian grandparent is estimated to be about 26 million. The U.S. Census Bureau also reports that Italian Americans are the nation's fifth largest ethnic group, with two-thirds in white-collar positions in business, medicine, law, education and other professions.

As I’m sure the Judge already knows, far from the organized crime stereotypes or the drunken tramps that currently get portrayed by MTV, Italian Americans have made many outstanding contributions to American life since their arrival to our shores.  We are all familiar with Frank Sinatra, Joe DiMaggio, and Fiorello LaGuardia; but here are a few you might not have heard of…

Attilio Piccirilli and his five brothers carved the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, DC along with the famous lions guarding New York's Public Library, statues in Rockefeller Center, and many other works. The studio that he and his brothers established in New York in 1889 became the largest sculpture studio in the country.

The first Italian American millionaire was Generoso Pope, who came to America from Benevento in 1904. He began as a railroad laborer, later worked for a small construction firm, the Colonial Sand and Stone Company, which he bought out in 1925 and made into the largest supplier of building materials in the country.

Two Italian Americans developed the American shopping mall. William Cafaro began building and operating neighborhood shopping centers in the 1940s. When he died at age 84 in 1998, he was one of the richest men in America, leaving behind $800 million. Edward J. DeBartolo, Sr. began as a construction worker and ended with the largest real estate and Development Company in the nation. During the 1960s, DeBartolo Corporation began to develop shopping malls and suburban office parks.

Chef Boyardee, the man behind the nation's leading brand of ready-to-eat spaghetti dinners, pizza, sauce and pasta, was Ettore Boiardi, an Italian immigrant, who began as a chef's apprentice at age 11, eventually opened a restaurant in Cleveland, Ohio and in the 1930s, began selling his pasta and sauce in cans. During World War II, Chef Boyardee was the largest supplier of rations for the U.S. and Allied Forces.

John Basilone is the only enlisted Marine in U.S. history to receive the nation's two highest military honors: the Navy Cross for valor and the U.S. Congressional Medal of Honor for his service in World War II. Basilone, an Italian American Marine sergeant from New Jersey, fought at the Battle of Guadalcanal (1942), raised millions of dollars in war bonds, and was killed in action during the Battle of Iwo Jima in 1945.

Captain Don Gentile of the U.S. Army Air Force shot down over 30 Nazi planes during World War II. Eisenhower called the 24-year-old pilot a "one-man Air Force" and personally pinned the Distinguished Service Cross on him. The "Ace of Aces" was born in Ohio and bought his first plane when he was 15. He died in a training accident after the war in 1950 when he was only 30.

Lee Iacocca, (born "Lido"), brought the Chrysler Corporation back from the brink of bankruptcy during the mid-1980s. The company was in the black within a month of his tenure as chairman. He resigned in 1992.

The cough drop was created by Vincent R. Ciccone, who began his career in the 1930s as a janitor at the Charms Candy Co. and retired as the company's president and chief executive officer. Ciccone secured 20 patents, including the "Blow Pop," a lolly-pop with a bubble gum center. He died at age 81 in 1997.

The oldest tribute to Columbus still standing in America is a stone obelisk in Baltimore Maryland.  It was erected on a private estate in 1792.  Long before Hollywood and comedians began to portray Italian Americans as mobsters, drunks, killers, or beach trash, these proud and successful American’s made their forever enduring mark on the culture and the heritage that is this great country.

I for one thank G-d that Christopher Columbus had the courage to follow his dreams and convictions which allowed him to play a founding part in what turned out to be the greatest nation on earth.  See your honor, there’s still hope.