When Bill Dodson retired after 31 years with the Glendale Fire Department, he decided to devote much of his time to taking care of a local war memorial, ringed with snapdragons and affixed with the names of 19 local servicemen killed during Vietnam.

He'd fought in World War II, firing so many shells from a Navy carrier that he still can't hear well out of one ear. Never again, he said, did he think he would see protesters dishonoring dead American soldiers.

"Unless you've been there," he said, "you can't understand that."

Medford, 60, and Dodson, 83, live in the same little village, Montrose. They are not as unalike as they think -- she says she is no pacifist; he says he is no hawk -- but they have never met. This evening, their lives will intersect, as they do every Friday.

As shadows creep through the folds of the nearby Verdugo Mountains, Medford will arrive at the main intersection in town, carrying a bag of signs -- one that says "STOP THE WAR NOW," another that says "WAR," with a red line through it.

She'll distribute them to 15 or 20 or so people who have held weekly peace vigils at Honolulu Avenue and Ocean View Boulevard for two years. Then she'll assume her spot, on the corner, flashing a peace sign when passing drivers honk their support.

Dodson will already have come and gone.

Every week, he stages a silent protest of his own, lowering the American flag that flies the rest of the time from a 45-foot flagpole that serves as the centerpiece of the little memorial at that same intersection. He folds the flag up, drives it home and then -- after the protesters have gone -- returns and puts it back up.

So who is right?

Maybe Medford, who believes she and the other organizers of the vigil are performing an act of patriotism by lobbying to bring troops home from an unjust war.

Maybe Dodson, who believes he is performing an act of patriotism by protecting a memorial that he views as sacred ground -- not a grave, he says, but close enough.

Or maybe things haven't changed a bit since 1968. That's when the memorial went up. In Vietnam, the Tet offensive was raging. In California, radios were blaring with a Buffalo Springfield song that seemed to address the divisiveness of war. "Nobody's right," the song said, "if everybody's wrong."

In the fall of 2005, Medford got an e-mail from an organization called Progressive Democrats of America, urging its members to start peace vigils to mark a grim milestone: the death of the 2,000th American service member in Iraq. Medford picked the corner with the war memorial, and she picked it on purpose.

"I truly meant no disrespect," she said. "I truly think that the best way to support the troops is to not send them -- again -- on a futile mission."

Montrose has long been rock-ribbed conservative and, perhaps as a result, the vigil instantly became a source of great fascination -- and consternation.

"I started getting phone calls from merchants saying: 'What's going on?' " said Glendale Mayor John Drayman, also a dues-paying member of the local business association because he owns a nearby photo conservation and restoration shop. Montrose is part unincorporated Los Angeles County and part city of Glendale. The memorial is in Glendale.

"It was kind of a shock to the body of consciousness up there," Drayman said.

Bill Dodson wasn't going to stand for it.