In 1967 my older brother, Gary, was sent to war in Viet Nam by the US Army. Because our parents were unwell, I was then sent to live with relatives. I rarely saw my brother again until I was grown. Discharged from the army in 1969 with a “service connected nervous disorder”, we later came to know his problem as “Post Traumatic Stress Disorder”. My pre-war brother, a normal and well-adjusted person had become, according to the US Veteran’s Administration, 50% disabled. He took his own life about ten years later. Twenty-five years after his death, I managed to contact some of his wartime friends. I attended a reunion of his company, discovered he had fallen in love during the war, and I twice traveled to Viet Nam to retrace Gary “footsteps” using his photographs and letters to serve as my guides. The story continues to unfold.
It was in 1967 that my older brother, Gary, was sent to war in Viet Nam. Because our parents were not well and could not care for a young child, I was fostered by various relatives in another state until I was almost grown. Although I saw my parents twice a year, I didn’t see Gary who was away at war. When he returned to the U.S, he moved to Colorado to escape societal pressures of civilian life. I rarely saw my brother again.
Honorably discharged from the army in 1969 with a “service connected nervous conditionâ€, we later came to know his problem as “Post Traumatic Stress Disorderâ€. My pre-war brother, a normal and well-adjusted person had become, according to the US Veteran’s Administration, 50% disabled. He took his own life ten years later.
Twenty-five years after his death, I was, for the first time, ready to come to terms with what happened and began to make photographs about my inquiries and discoveries. From a box of Gary’s belongings, I found his letters written home from Viet Nam, photographs, a memo pad that listed contact information for his army friends, and various other war related ephemera. Making every effort imaginable to reach Gary’s wartime friends, I dialed all phone numbers listed in the U.S. for each name listed. Thirty-five years after the war, I did manage to reach some of his friends, even the most difficult to reach. I flew to another city to visit one friend, who, as it turned out had agoraphobia from the war and could not see me – never answered the door. He was too embarrassed to tell me on the phone but after persistent visits, his girlfriend invited me in and explained.
I’ve since attended a reunion of Gary’s company where I met his comrades who kindly spoke to me about what it was like to fly into combat zones, what it was like to be shot down and survive, and explained to me the meaning of some of Gary’s previously mysterious photographs.
By perusing my brother’s Vietnamese/English dictionary, I found evidence, in handwritten notes, that he had fallen in love during the war to a woman he planned to marry. I found that he returned to Viet Nam as a civilian to be with his love. Her identity and his reasons for returning remain a mystery.
Finding a map to the cemetery where Gary Is buried, I visited his grave for the first time and discovered that our mother is buried with him. I found the address and visited the house where he died.
Twice, I traveled to Chu Lai, Viet Nam to retrace Gary’s “footsteps†using his photographs and letters to serve as my guides. Bit by bit, I slowly put together the missing pieces of this past and projected them from my mind’s eye into the form of my photographs. I make this work with the hope to reach others who have, and will continue to lose, loved ones to war.