As all journeys must, this one has come to an end. My “Ride Across America” took root in the Vietnam
experience. Vietnam was a pivot point
that shaped many lives and I am no exception…never fully trusting happiness, I
am driven, unrelenting, uncompromising, and too often lured to adrenaline-
charged endeavors. In short, I can be
difficult. These traits have been a
heavy burden for my wife who remains steadfastly faithful in her love for
me. She grasps and does not scorn my
will to live life unrestrained in a manic fashion nor begrudge those times when
I seek solitude. When I venture off
alone, she appreciates that I am simply hitting life’s reset button. She worries but never thwarts these endeavors
and remains forever supportive. Together
we have discovered the power of love and together raised two incredibly high
achieving daughters who love us dearly. Without
her support this journey would never have occurred.
Bizarre as it seems, I flew to war on a commercial
airliner with amenities served by good-natured and pretty stewardesses. Transported to Long Bien, I was nearly
hijacked by a unit to which I was not assigned but who sought to secure live
bodies to fill their depleted ranks. By
grace, an officer interceded and demanded to see my orders and put a stop to
this larceny. Redirected to my intended
unit, it was there that I met, soldiered, laughed and went to war with the nine
souls who accompanied me on my “Ride Across America” some 45 years after my return
from Vietnam. Their memories were my only
companions. Too early, their lives and
futures were the causalities of that war, leaving only an empty seat in the
hearts of those who loved them. Taking
time to write their stories, describe their personalities, how, when, and where
they were lost was my personal tribute to each.
These I carried in my saddlebags and upon completion of the trip
lovingly cast them onto the “Great Beyond” with the aid of helium inflatables. From our destination in Seattle, their
stories were carried with the winds eastward in hopes that they might again
reach our point of departure…the Vietnam Memorial. An accompanying note was
enclosed: “If you find this packet, carried by bicycle from Washington, D.C.,
to Seattle and then sent aloft by balloon, you will read the stories of my friends. Take a moment to absorb their sacrifice and reflect
on the absurdity of their loss. If you
are moved by their stories, return them to our starting point…the Vietnam
Memorial. While there, seek your
reflection on the polished granite walls and let the solemnity of that moment
counsel your thoughts…
But for the grace
of God.”
Stephan E. Speer, Staff Sergeant, United States Army, 1968 - 1970
