SAN DIEGO -- To the backdrop of a military drumbeat, a woman’s recorded voice solemnly read the names from a seemingly inexhaustible list of those who served, and died, during the Vietnam War.
Hundreds of people, some fighting back tears, walked slowly beside the black mirrored surface of a 240-foot-wall, leaving small memorials and paying homage to more than 58,000 Vietnam War veterans, whose names grace the wall’s panels.
The somber and respectful setting invited everyone young and old, military and civilian to take part in “The Vietnam Wall Experience,” a traveling replica of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, at Balboa Park in San Diego May 5-7.
The Dignity Memorial Vietnam Wall is one of six traveling replicas in the United States, and it typically tours during the spring and summer.
The wall, albeit a faux-granite replica, carries an impact as strong as the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C.
“They come alive again,” said Susan K. Williams, as tears ran down her face. “I see them again for the first time.”
Williams referred to the memories of two men she still holds close to her heart as she traced repeatedly over their names with her fingers, moving tirelessly from one end of the wall to another, giving each of the Marines equal time.
John A. Graber, her cousin who served from 1966-1967, was the first name she went to see. Williams then made her way to the panel memorializing Victor W. Badway, a Marine who served from 1969-1970.
Williams and Badway were dating when he left for boot camp.
“After John died (in Vietnam), my boyfriend went,” said Williams, a Valley Center resident. “It took them both.”
For one man, walking the length of the wall was almost too much to bear.
“There are too many names up here,” said Allen E. Scott, a Navy veteran and San Diego resident. “Half of my high school class (from Virginia) is on this wall.” The visit, which was Scott’s first to any Vietnam Memorial, was both difficult and therapeutic.
“It’s a feeling that’s so hard to describe,” he said, his voice beginning to crack. “I’ve been putting this off for way too long.”
The wall rehashed sadness, even anger, for some, but for others it was a very spiritual experience.
“This is a big blessing,” said Jim Brunotte, an Army veteran.
“Some people will say that there was no God in Vietnam, and I’ll debate them,” said Brunotte, who lost his legs, left arm and right eye to a landmine during his fifth week in Vietnam. “There’s no way God could not have been there.”
He weaved through the crowd of people, navigating his electric wheelchair with ease, helping visitors find specific names on the massive memorial.
Some visited the replica for others who could not make the trip.
Valerie M. Ware, a San Diego resident, stenciled names for her father, Army veteran Augustine Zapata, who lives in Northern California.
“They’re the names of his friends from Texas who didn’t make it back,” said Ware, indicating the graphite-stenciled souvenirs in her hand. “It’s going to be very special for him.”
Many visitors came to see specific names and leave small, personalized memorials at the base of the wall, but others stopped by out of a simple respect and admiration for the sacrifices paid by U.S. veterans.
One elderly woman, San Diego resident Marcella J. Dalton, walked the entire length of the wall and ran her fingers along every section of every panel.
She took time to stop momentarily and contemplate the enormity of the memorial as she gazed into its reflective surface.
“I just wanted to touch them all,” said Dalton, a warm smile growing on her face. The Dignity Memorial Vietnam Wall’s next stop is Fresno, May 12.