Notes From Peace Demonstrations: John Fortier Peace Vigil, 3/1/13

Dear Reader, John is a Korean War Veteran, a retired school teacher and a husband, a father, a grandfather and a great-grandfather. He has held his weekly Peace Vigil at the busy corner of Pacific Coast Highway (PCH) and Knob Hill Avenue in Redondo Beach, CA since March, 2003 just before President Bush launched the Iraq War. 10 years!

Today he shares with us the story of an infantryman, a man who likely served on the U.S. ground forces during one of its two Iraq Wars or its Afghanistan War. This man felt so strongly felt a need to express himself to John, he briefly stopped in the right lane of Pacific Coast Highway to do it. And as you will see, John was pleased this man did so.

Dick

Whoa, this is a way bigger writing task I'm embarking on than I imagined earlier. I thought I would be describing just one anecdote from a week ago yesterday. Its significance to me is much greater than the time it took, which I recall being about ten to fifteen seconds. No, now that I've just observed the second hand on my watch, I recalculate the time involved as being probably about five to eight seconds.

The guy who started the brief dialogue had come down Knob Hill and made a left on PCH and pulled over to the curb about ten feet from my corner seat and stopped. I noticed his passenger window was down and he leaned as far as he could toward it and said, as best I can recall, "I did four years in the infantry, and I like what I see you doing there."

A lot of people who try to communicate to me from their cars just don't have the the volume for it, though some try again and again before giving up. I had absolutely no problem hearing this guy. He wasn't a kid or a geezer, but maybe mid or late thirties and with the lung power of a drill sergeant. And I know he heard my, "Thanks, man, I appreciate that."

Before and as he took off down the road, we were both smiling and feeling pretty good. It had only taken a few moments, but he looked and sounded like he really enjoyed saying what he said, and I certainly enjoyed his saying it for me to hear. There have been times when I felt a little guilty about how my duties differed from the infantryman's. Being an aircrew member was as good as it gets, unless and until it gets fatal. The infantryman's duties are daunting to begin with and just get rougher and tougher until, as so often happens, the blood meets the mud. I honestly do feel a little guilty about the difference in duties, but I'm absolutely not sorry I had mine, not his.