Memorials Affirm Selflessness and Say Thanks

Nations navigate by symbol, so that our great memorials reflect our deepest values. Californians have stewardship of two--the Veterans Memorial atop Mt. Soledad in San Diego and the state Vietnam Veterans Memorial that opened in Sacramento on Dec. 10. They illustrate that America’s great memorials no longer cluster in the East.

Soledad overlooks San Diego from the shore, and one of the most beautiful vistas on Earth can be seen from there. It is brilliant in sunlight, like a natural cathedral, in the same family as Corcovado peak above Rio de Janeiro.

The Sacramento memorial is a circle of panels enclosing a group of statues in Capitol Park, a stunning use of sculpture evoking memory and emotion. I first saw it at midnight on Dec. 8. Its power was already evident. The panels reflected the white Capitol dome, a bright image on the names. I could not tell quiet visitors from statues. A weeping man pointed to his brother’s name. People had left photos, notes, a service cap. Walking back to the taxi, my cabbie broke into tears. “That war took a chunk out of our generation,” he said. Some names were his high-school buddies. Then, wiping tears, he said, “I haven’t done that in a long time.”

The memorials affirm the principle of giving oneself for others. Mt. Soledad does it through a living memorial, a vista open at all hours to travelers, pensive nearby residents and (I think that all veterans bless this) amorous teens. It thus also reflects the ideals of openness, welcome and informality. Proposed ecumenical symbols and its cross stand for the burial markers of 1 million Americans who gave their lives--from Valley Forge and Midway to Heartbreak Ridge in Korea and Black Virgin Mountain in Vietnam--and especially for those killed in sea battle, where no marker can stand.

The panels of names in Sacramento reflect the value of individuality, and the figure of a nurse--the first among major Vietnam memorials--expresses the role that women played. I have two favorites among the bronze reliefs. One is the Constitution. I saw the Preamble and considered that I fought in Vietnam to “secure the blessings of liberty” for its people. The other is a trooper clad only in flak vest wading into water to bathe. We see him from behind, and, well, it works (but only in California!).

For much of the last two years I lived in Los Angeles and San Diego writing on how people heal and grow from war. I learned that memorials, their role and care, are still new in West Coast consciousness. For example, few Californians, even San Diegans, know that Mt. Soledad is a veterans’ memorial. It is a vulnerable national treasure, with developers eyeing the grounds and an atheists’ group threatening suit to remove its symbols of faith.

Like citizen concerns of clean air and clean beaches, memorials need steady community attention to guarantee that they keep offering healing and uplift to adults and, most important, gentle teaching for our children.

Their biggest effect is on children and families; 40% of the visitors are children 12 or under. Often they transform a child’s relationship with a veteran in the family by showing how the country loves the veteran.

Overseeing construction of the national Vietnam Memorial and helping to build 20 others, I watch the kids. They sense from their parents’ faces that the places are special, and they usually become hushed, like their parents, and pensive. They try hard to relate to the symbols. One night at the wall in Washington, I heard a tiny voice and then Mom’s reply: “No, they can’t replay it. This isn’t a VCR.”

Girls stand back and rely on their eyes, save to touch a name. Boys stride right up to the statues for close inspection. Boys relate immediately to the young soldiers and feel at home at the site. A 12-year-old girl paused and said, “I like the way the guys in the statue are looking at the wall.” She noticed much, though young: the tension between wall and statue and, I believe, the fears and hopes of young men at war.

To help young girls feel more personally included, I favor putting a statue of Vietnam service women near the wall. I propose three figures--a field nurse, a Medevac flight-crew member and a Vietnamese child at the new entryway that will connect the wall to the 56-Signers Memorial on the Mall and two new neighbors, the Black Patriots and Korean War Memorials. Women have pressed for a statue, and this solves the design issues of mass and placement. California’s Vietnam Memorial is strong precedent.

“Sacramento” means an outward and visible sign of inward and spiritual grace. Mt. Soledad Memorial and the Vietnam Memorial are signs that point to the things that matter most. They are part of our children’s inheritance and need our best care; they fill places in our hearts.