I have always been confused by the fact that death inspires feelings of both dread and curiosity.  Until I visited the New Jersey Vietnam Veterans‘ Memorial, I was ignorant of how two such divergent emotions could come together.  It wasn‘t until after I walked up the wooded path in the sunshine and stood staring in the face of history that I truly understood how a person can be filled with both fear and wonder at the same time.  It was my experience at the Memorial that made me realize the true meaning of the word, awe.

The memorial itself is so profoundly beautiful that its beauty almost clouds the realities of war.  There is a sense of serenity and peace that hits you as you appreciate the natural landscape as well as the clean, polished look of the granite and brick that reflect the death and violence that only war can bring.  I remember thinking about my own family, my parents and brothers, and how horribly painful for them it would be to look down at my name etched on a brick or glazed on a granite wall.  I thought of my mother having to mourn my death in this way, and I became transformed.  I questioned myself as to whether I could be so brave, so unselfish, so loyal.  I don‘t know the answer.  I only know that I was filled with fear and a profound sense of wonder.

I wondered, as I looked at the statue of the fallen soldier, if he really knew the people who comforted him at his last moment.  I was moved, and I was afraid.  Having spent the last four years in high school feeling that I was so grown up, I suddenly felt like a little boy looking at what “adults” do.  And then it hit me.  So many of the fallen were my age, young men and women who dreamt of making a difference by upholding the values that are the basis of American democracy.  I connected the past to the present and the reality of those fighting and dying in Iraq became real to me.  If I was born in a different time, I could have been one of the fallen, and in the times we currently live in, I could still be.  This was what made me the most awestruck.  This was more of a reality than any movie, television program, or novel I have experienced.  This was the harsh reality of war.

The contrasting images present at the Memorial are so meaningful.  Viewing the endless names on the wall made me feel both despair and pride.  It is so hard to justify war when it takes the lives of so many, yet there is a strong sense of pride in knowing that America is built on the sacrifice of those who have been brave enough to put their life on the line for freedom.  The mix of sun and shadows is a symbol of both the darkness and hope that accompanies war and its outcome.  Every message printed on each brick lining the road to the top represents the extent of the love and loss felt by the relatives of the fallen soldiers.  The circle of granite panels is a statement of the cycle of war and peace that has been endless throughout history.  I stood there in awe, feeling the fear that comes from being near or around death and wondering why I still had a sense of hope.  Then, it hit me.  We are all part of this family.  The soldiers who died and the ones who survived in this war are part of the same circle that includes all those who have given their life in every war.  Each of them fought a battle so that someone else could have a better life.  The outstretched hand of the fallen soldier is not just an expression of hopelessness, but it is also a symbol of hope, that each of us will give to the other the loyalty necessary for liberty.  I now understand so much more about the lives of those who cared enough to make the supreme sacrifice, and I am in awe of each of them and the gift they gave to me.

Joseph J. Gianetti, Closter, NJ
Northern Valley Regional High School at Demarest