“War Is Hell”
Lee Harvey Oswald being taken
from the theater where he was
hiding, November 22, 1963

This morning while I was waiting in the clinic for my wife, Pat, to have physical therapy, I struck up a conversation with an elderly African American man, 68, who was also waiting for someone. He clearly was a Vietnam Veteran and had this statement all over the jacket he was wearing. We shared deeply with each other our life experiences especially with war. Right after graduating from Rufus King High school in the 60’s he was drafted and remained 10 years in the military, one year in Vietnam where he was wounded. He was proud of his military service and enjoyed it but after time came to realize, as many others, he should been fighting the war at home against racism and did not belong in Vietnam. In fact he had been an early member of the Milwaukee Commando’s, an African American group that protected and organized civil right leaders. He fondly remembers Father Groppi opening up St. Boniface Catholic Church for civil rights efforts. He told me that years later he got on a Milwaukee Transit bus and was surprised to find Jim Groppi was the bus driver. Jim had left the clergy and got married but for him he was still a deeply loved and respected person.

He told me how he was not born in Milwaukee but came here as a child when his father, a minister, was called to a local church.

After serving his ten years in Military service he could not come back to Milwaukee, except for visits. He was out east and down south for awhile but no matter where he went he was haunted by his experiences in the war. I told him about my son, Peter, who always thought that if he escaped Milwaukee, which he did a number of times, all his brain illnesses would disappear. It did not happen. After seeing his reaction to my telling him my son eventually committed suicide I wish, I would not have told him that fact.

He was very emotional and a few times had to stop to gather himself together while describing his life since being drafted in the military. I joked with him that he should have tried to escape the draft until 1968 when fourteen of us raided the Selective Service draft board and destroyed all the 1 A files, thus allowing many young men escape from being drafted in the military.

At one time a lady sitting across from us, in true Milwaukee style, joined in our conversation briefly. Seeing his Vietnam jacket she said thanked him for being in the service and said how proud she was to meet him. However, in the same breathe she said the Vietnam War was wrong and the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan were wrong. We both agreed.

He has recently returned to Milwaukee to live and the friend he brought in for therapy was a person he had know since he was about 12 years old. He had return home from the war after 50 years. Finally his friend came out and it was time to depart. His name was Kenneth. He was a military and Vietnam veteran, just the type of causality of war that John F. Kennedy was trying to prevent when he was killed and just the person that motivates me to stop these ‘endless wars’, the continuing racism in Milwaukee and to stop teaching killing at Marquette University. Kenneth is my friend and brother.

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