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His Name was Vernon Pendergrass...A Memorial Day Story

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His name was Vernon Pendergrass. I didn’t know this man, I have never met him.

But today I learned his name, and it changed my perspective. I was going down to the little town of Fultondale, Alabama. To check out the traveling Vietnam Memorial Wall. As I parked and walked out into the hot July day, it occurred to me that I did not know a single name on that wall. I was about 12 when the Vietnam War wrapped up, my brother had some friends that went to Vietnam. There might of been a few that didn’t make it home. but I didn’t know their names. I was still moved by the memorial and impressed with the crowd. I watched, took photos of folks rubbing names on paper with a pencil.

As  I walked down to the end, I came across a woman scanning the wall and frowning. She looked my way as I strolled up to her. “Can you see Vernon Pendergrass?” she asked pointing to the bottom of a section of the wall.

She tried to stoop down, but I just sat down cross legged, and she joined me on the hot pavement. Her fingers found the name, Vernon Pendergrass, she ran her knotted index finger over the impression. “How do you do this?” she wondered as she held the paper and pencil. I showed her how you lay the paper against the wall, over the name. She couldn’t see well enough to do the rubbing, and asked if I would. She held the paper as I rubbed Vernon Pendergrass unto the paper. I was sitting to the right, so the name appeared first as double s, and then the a, r g, red nep, space non rev, and there it was, Vernon Pendergras. We looked at each other, she smiled and went “oh!”, as is if it were magic. I made sure to rub it extra times, so the pencil was dark against the impression of his name,  the woman oohed and aahed at the lovely dark pencil impression of his name.  She let me know she was very grateful for the help.  I told her how I came to the wall, thinking about how I didn’t know any of the names. But I met her, and learned of one Vernon Pendergrass. I assured her it was my honor to rub Vernon’s name for her.   Ir was hot, we didn’t dally, and went our separate ways.

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 I thought about this man I never met for a long time. Then it dawned on me. What a gift it was to of met the relation of a person whom had their name upon the Vietnam War Memorial Wall. I might make it down to Washington D.C. someday. And when I do, I am going to visit the Vietnam War Memorial. I will walk down the rows,  nearly to the end,  the place on the wall, the space on the wall, with the name Vernon Pendergrass. I will take the paper, and brush the pencil upon the wall, inscribing a person’s name I never met, nor never knew. And be grateful, simply, today, yesterday, and tomorrow.


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