As I stood in line at an event last evening, I met an older man who steadied himself with a cane. I soon learned that he is a military enthusiast, and he began talking extensively about Civil War-era Virginia, a topic that I also find fascinating. His accent sounded distinctly northern, and he shared that he had grown up in Philadelphia, having moved there from the South, where his mother was from, and where his great-grandfathers had fought for the Confederacy. 

In fact, as our conversation continued, I learned that every generation of his family since the Civil War had fought in all the major conflicts. An older brother had served in World War II, another in Korea; he had served in Vietnam, and his sons were soldiers as well. 

He told me his first name is Wilson, and the first thought that entered my mind was of Wilson, the volleyball in the Tom Hanks movie “Cast Away,” and the heart-wrenching scene where the two were parted at sea, Hanks’ character crying, “Wilson! I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Wilson!”

I soon learned that the Wilson beside me had also had some heart-wrenching experiences. When his family moved north to Pennsylvania, he said his family was looked down upon because they were southern. And when he returned home from Vietnam, he experienced the heartbreak of  being reviled by the very country he had served on behalf of. He related how he was refused service in a restaurant, being told, “We don’t serve your kind.” Wilson believes he was perceived to be a “baby killer.” After fifty years, the sadness, the frustration, and the bitterness were still evident. 

I was only a kid when the Vietnam War ended and can vaguely remember seeing TV reports about it on the evening news. Of course, as I matured and was educated, I came to understand more about the war’s complications and the demonstrations that were waged against it. 

Whether you agree with our country’s involvement in Vietnam or not, I believe those who served and fought and sacrificed with honor are deserving of our respect. 

I thanked Wilson for his service. Inside, I was saying, “I’m sorry, Wilson. I’m sorry!”