❝When my parents died I was sent to the VFW National Home for Children. I was 14 or 15.
I made friends there until I finished high school. Then I went to Vietnam.
When I came back I came to Washington. I always liked it here.
You’ve heard of the Vietnam Wall? I went to see the wall and I saw the name of someone I knew, a friend of mine from high school. I chalked the name, Gary Hanna, on a piece of paper. And his little brother Algie Hanna was there, too. He was younger than us and went to Vietnam after us.
I’d go back (to Michigan) every so often and people would tell me Algie was shot stepping off the plane. He never put his foot on the ground.
I never could find out what happened to Gary.
This month I talked to an old friend from high school who told me the Gary Hanna I thought was dead for 30 years was a different one.
I still have to find him. He’s living in North or South Carolina.
You go all your life thinking something is true, but that doesn’t mean it’s true.❞
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