• I would like for you to Meet. .
    On Behalf of the 
    United States America, 
    We Present to you this Flag....
     A Visit with Dad at The Wall
    On Father's Day 1992,
    I visited The Vietnam Veterans Memorial,
    also known as The Wall.
    I was there in the presence of not only the 58,000+ who did not return home, but with the Children whose fathers are ON THE WALL.
    This was my 3rd visit to Panel 55 East, the panel which represented May 5, 1968.  There I could see my dad's name, Eddie E. Chervony, in my reflection along with the other 186 men who died on that sad day in May.  The other two were very special, however this visit I had an introduction to make, that of my unborn child, my father's legacy.
    For as long as I could remember, I had always promised myself that if I had a son, he would be named "Eddie" after my dad.  Now, I was going to give birth to a child who would be born 25 years after my father's death.  I saw the first images of "this child" on May 7, 1993.
    May 7th has a special significance, however I did not realize what day it was.
    The day I had my sonogram, was 25 years to the day that we received the notification from the Government that my father had been killed in action. I was 13 months old at the time and my mom was 19.  May 7th, the day that forever changed my mother, and our lives.
    As Father's Day approached, I knew I had to take a gift, so I decided to make photocopies of my sonogram, frame them and give them to dad.  However, I knew that the TRUE GIFT was inside of me, and that teaching my CHILDREN about their "Papa Eddie" would be the
    greatest gift that I would be able to offer to my father.
     Dad, I would like for you to meet. . .
    On Father's Day 1993, I was accompanied to the Wall with over 300 children who were there to Remember their fathers, along with family and friends. We the Children, are known as Sons and Daughters In Touch.  At the base of Panel 55 East I placed my visible gift along with a Red Rose.
    WHY THE RED ROSE??. . .signifying that daddy has come home to rest in peace, even though his family had lost ITs PEACE.

    There I was, 6 months pregnant, standing a few feet away from the Wall, wishing that I would have brought a small tape recorder to place behind MY GIFT.  The comments made by those who visited Panel 55 East.  People were attracted to it like a magnet, as the viewed the 'UNBORN CHILD' and read the words from A DAUGHTER to A FATHER.  I don't know if it is because the sonogram signifies life and here we are at a Memorial that brings the reality of DEATH into OUR LIVES.

    Offerings At The Wall
    In 1995 due to an unexpected flat tire,
    I went to a book store as my tire was being repaired.  I saw a white book w/ a folded flag on the cover and a POW/MIA bracelet on the flag with the date, yes, May 7.
    The book was titled OFFERINGS at THE WALL. I began to look throughout the book and saw that it had photographs of the "GIFTS TO THE WALL".  I thought I would look for a Table of Contents to see if there was any order to the book. After the PREFACE, I thought I was dreaming when I saw "MY SON's SONOGRAM".  Eddie was with me, sitting quietly in his tears began to run down my face  reading the words I had written. The words did not appear on any of the pictures I had taken.
    "Happy Father's Day- Dad
    Here are the first two images of your first grandchild. 
    I don't know if it's a boy or a girl. 
    If the baby is a boy- he'll be named after you. 
    Dad- This child will know you- 
    Just how I have grown to know and love you- 
    Even though the last time I saw you 
    I was only 4 months old. 
    I love you Daddy- 
    Your Daughter, Jeanette"
    The Sonogram Baby. . .EddieOn Father's Day Weekend 1997, I had the opportunity of introducing MY SON, Eddie to The Wall, another chapter in our life as a family.
    The book Offerings at The Wall has opened many doors for me, well I guess I can say..."My Father's Death" has opened many doors for me AND I just can't stand there and not walk through.
    I have made a commitment to my father that I will "educate others, so that I will never have to attend a MEMORIAL dedication to my son, due to the lessons unlearned" and a lesson from my mother, who is now with my father, that her "sacrifice and silence was not ignored".


    I have a dream, we all have dreams.  I have mine in my heart and on paper and hope to see it come to pass very soon. This is a dream to OUR FUTURE, OUR CHILDREN, OUR LEGACIES.
    The Vietnam Remembrance Quilt
     Meet OUR Dads

    I have had the pleasure of meeting Linh.  He has a poem also featured in the book Offerings At The Wall.  This book has brought us together via healing.  Please read his poems and share in his APPRECIATION FOR AMERICA AND TO THOSE WHO DIED IN HOPES TO FREE HIS HOMELAND.  His book of poetry is available with a portion of the proceeds going to the the SDIT SoCal chapter.  Below I have included a poem not included in the book.

    From Hue to My Lai to the South China Sea

    Oh God, who crossed Ben Hai River
    when the ink on the Geneva Treaty 
       had not a chance to dry.
    Who pushed their people into the jungles
       beating the path, making the Ho Chi Minh Trail.
    Who buried three thousand alive, mother and child,
       in the ditches in Hue, my ancient town.
    Tet Offensive, or breach of truce,
       filled my whole country with death and misery.
    "Total Attack," as the evil Viet Cong declared,
    while they sniped at their enemy from behind
       the children and women of My Lai,
       that dismal morning in March.
    Oh God, the VC used my dear helpless people
       as their hostages,
       pushing them before the line of bullets,
       forcing the children to throw grenades at the Americans.
    Who donned the cone hat on Jane Fonda,
       hugging the big guns made in the evil empire of Communism.
    Who used the nine-year-old girl burned with napalm
       for the longest bout of propaganda until she escaped.
    Who breached the Peace treaty signed in Paris
       pushing a million out of my motherland.
    Every three refugees who made it to freedom,
       one died in the cold water of the South China Sea.
    Oh God, I don't know....
    I don't know, God, please answer me...

    Linh Duy  Vo
    (The Boy in the Poem)
    Friday, 13 March 1998 (c)