"11-27"

By James Hendershot

A sleeping giant now hides in every corner no longer afraid of the daylight as it slowly feeds from the innocent and the abuse of those whom were once free. Many nations are policed by law enforcement that do not carry guns, yet our police force depends upon guns as a frequently as we rely on introductions. This book explores what nourishes the perception of racism in our nation today, as well as defining where we are and identifying who the killers are. The author shares his real-life experience with rogue police officers who abused their powers, knowing they were breaking the law by using illegal police practices yet knowing the courts will back their version as they testily. The author minimized his loss by searching the Internet before appearing in court, learning valuable lessons, which he now shares in his account of the terrible day, November 27, 2014. Ignorance will get you put in prison with the other millions of innocent people who pled guilty so they could have a chance at a limited freedom later in life. Ignorance will see your children and family behind bars as the United States evolve into a police state, blaming the false existence of racism as the enemy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Sep 3, 2015
• ISBN: 9781490763330

James Hendershot

James Hendershot, D.D., was born in Marietta, Ohio, and finally settled in Caldwell, Ohio, where he eventually graduated from high school. After graduating, he served four years in the Air Force and graduated magna cum laude with three majors from the prestigious Marietta College. He then served until retirement in the US Army, during which time he earned his master’s of science degree from Central Michigan University in public administration and his third degree in computer programming from Central Texas College. His final degree was the honorary degree of Doctor of Divinity from Kingsway Bible College, which provided him with keen insight into the divine nature of man. After retiring from the US Army, he accepted a visiting professor position with Korea University in Seoul, South Korea.

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11-27

James Hendershot

©

Copyright 2015 James Hendershot.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

ISBN: 978-1-4907-6334-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4907-6333-0 (e)

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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Trafford rev. 09/01/2015

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter 01: Where are we

Chapter 02: The day my world stood still

Chapter 03: Nisqually Public Safety

Chapter 04: Released on bail and surprise

Chapter 05: The day of judgement

Chapter 06: Wasted males

Chapter 07: Wasted Females

Chapter 08: Who are the killers

The other adventures from this author

Author Bio

Dedicated to page

Dedicated to my wife Younghee with special thanks,

and to my sons Joshua and John

together with

daughters Nellie and Mia,

and check in coordinator Heidi Morgan.

H:\303 Dad's published books\Final submission to Trafford\Final submission to Trafford\Harvey\dedication page\family painted wall and book covers 640-480.jpg

CHAPTER 01

Where are we

I f you wish to be good, first believe that you are bad Epictetus (50-138 A.D.). My life was founded in the belief that all was either decent or terrible. It goes with all is black or white, gay or straight, female or male. The twenty-first century is adding gray blend the dark and colorless into a sliding sort of scale. We continuously search for more characteristics to divide us. Each year, the characteristics gain their equality or opinion of equality. No matter how we make all things the same, it does not make them equal.

The highest goodness is like water.

Water benefits all things and does not compete.

It stays in the lowly places, which others despise.

Therefore, it is near The Everlasting. Lao-Tzu (B.C. 600)

This passage tells me the highest goodness is, water, which does not compete, nevertheless, benefits all things. Fighting to divide a group into an equal entity produces the opposite result. The need to be identical pulls the group into the middle path, which neither rises nor falls. Jesus taught, about 600 years after Lao-Tzu that he who humbles himself will be exalted. What happens to he who exalts himself? Jesus taught the greatest must be the servant and for the highest to sit in the back, and if he is truly the ultimate, his host will call for him to come forward, and unfortunately send the self-glorifying attendant to be directed to the back. This all-embracing truism did not solely begin in 600 B.C. and reemerge on the opposite corner of Asia 600 years later. This is part of our universal truism and is just as valid today as it was; it was in the days of Methuselah. This reveals that if a group truly wishes to be the greatest, they must become the least, or like water go to the low places that are shunned. An argument could be advanced the struggle to be equivalent does not produce equality, unless it is gained through a natural process. I found that trying to sit in the back and keep a low profile gave me the most peace and least stress. During my college days, I routinely found, consolation by sitting in the backseats. I discovered that those in the back could be viewed with suspicion. To combat this, I would strive to prove an academic desire by answering as many questions in the first few classes. I found the instructors began to ignore me, as I once more slid into my blissful state of seclusion. Additionally, I realized that by answering the initial questions I was creating an illusion of seeking to exalt myself, and within this premise, the behavior became acceptable or in compliance with current human values. I simply wanted to be ignored.

Being ignored has its advantages. I learned this early in my military career. We were informed, through the grapevine not to volunteer for anything. The trick was to graduate and have the instructors shake their head asking, Who is he? My excitable high-strung nervous personality prevented this, and I suffered accordingly. As luck would have it, this shortcoming was survivable. A hearing test, later in my life revealed my hearing was not good, which accounted for the high volume of my voice. I was loud, which sometimes made those around me feel uneasy and even at times threatened. I had to accept an act that I intended to go for good, was potentially perceived as bad. Accordingly, I had to add this to the instability of my existence, and those who I share this Earth. I knew a day would arrive where some questions needed asked. Nothing seemed to matter until November 27, 2014. I tried to keep my focus and survive each day not caring much about others surrounding me; except a basic desire, they were not suffering or in terrible health. Bad health is something that can shake off any feelings of persecution or being harassed. The news of a friend suffering from a serious car accident, or dying of cancer almost makes me feel fortunate that such a curse has passed my door. I watched the Pride of the Yankees, which once more brought tears to my eyes. Lou Gehrig did everything by the book, played every day if it were possible. He set a high standard and at no time lowered it. Babe Ruth was so opposite, never caring for his health, and instead living each day as if it was his last. Sometimes there is no logic answer for why. We simply wobble our heads and wonder. The actual idea of life confuses me. One aspect is that of man and animals. Our animals have similar organs that function such as ours. They have hearts, blood, brains, can see, make noise, and smell. I often wonder about taste as I try to conceive the joy in eating hay and grass. Many of our pets understand us, such as sit, and definitely shut up, among others. My question is why animals cannot talk, or better yet, how we can talk. Anyone who has stared into the milky brown eyes of a pet dog or horse, just to name a few, should have wondered about this. This is one of so many questions that plaque my mind, such how there can be so many heavenly bodies without life in this universe. These are questions to feed my curiously until science or something adds some more information, causing us as a public to form a new consensus.

This opens the question as to what we use to form our consensus. What do we trust? How we are so easily programmed continues to amaze me? I even find myself being somewhat puzzled over why I believe what my world tells me, after all, are not we, the good guys and everything against us bad? My children seem to flow naturally with the new social held values; therefore, if they do, then why should not I flow as well? These are simply too many questions. Maybe it is time for me to reexamine who I am and what we are. The black-white issue never troubled me. I grew up in a white world, remembering my parents explaining the black people had nothing because they were lazy. They also labeled one of my uncles, the father of four of my cousins as being slothful because he was on welfare, and welfare was such a terrible thing to receive. Actually, welfare is a safety mechanism in place to prevent people from starving when they become the victim of the capitalistic program that takes dollars from those who have and give back pennies to those who need. I marvel at how little they ‘award’ those who are needy. How a family could survive on this is beyond my understanding. Somehow, society shifted the blame on them and not society’s responsibility to offer the opportunities needed to survive. When the government takes the income from those who work and misuse these ‘revenues,’ I find myself becoming sick. How can they claim the income from another as their revenue? This is so unjust. I often believe the government considers the wages from their citizens as their income. What also bothers me is that I can take my earned income, which is taxed by as many as five government organizations, and then use this income to make my house payments, of which another tax called ‘property tax’ almost exceeds the amount for the balance, not counting the interest charges. These interest charges become income for a bank, which the government once more taxes. The land of the free, only if you for a fee. Try to get legally married, build an expansion on your house, or even better drive to the place you earn the government’s paychecks without a license. A license is nothing more than permission, granted for a fee. Another thing that bothers me is how the state ‘earns’ more money from the sale of a new car than does the dealership.

Nevertheless, this does not fall within the focus of my book, a purpose I will continue to evade for a few more pages. I still have some venting to express. I recently watched a TV documentary series called Women behind bars. I noticed how many of the prisoners reported foul play by the police in their cases, yet to no avail, even based on evidence that I did not feel was beyond a reasonable doubt convicted them and took away their freedom. This is what convinced me that my 11-27, which I will explain in the pages ahead of us; that innocence is not the factor when seeking justice. The primary issue the families of these victims stressed was the need for a good lawyer. The police always try to paint all lawyers as not decent. Nevertheless, I have noticed on the TV’s shows and documentaries, how the police must stop when a lawyer is requested. The police constantly try to paint a person who calls for a lawyer as guilty. This could not be further from the truth, in the reason to request a lawyer, is to make sure they do not abuse their power and their power. The police operate under the consensus; they can break the law. They have no qualms about lying to elicit confessions, yet if the defendant lies to the police, they tack on added charges. I had a friend in high school who volunteered to help the sheriff work on a case by answering questions. The deputy at once went off on my friend claiming that he had evidence that my friend was part of credit card theft and using such cards. He did not know much about credit cards, considering we were still in the pay cash as you go world. My friend chocked and began confessing. Fortunately, the victim or gas station that was robbed the owner knew my friend was innocent and did not press charges. This story scared us and as the story spread, the deputy was eventually dismissed. The point I learned is that once law enforcement gets you where they can, they will cheat and lie to get what they want.

Accordingly, another thing that disturbs me is how police immediately go after the family of a murder victim when they attempt to solve the case. This terrifies me without end. If my wife were to die, I would have enough grief, let alone to have lazy fat police harassing me as they create a guilty person when they cannot find one. This is such a cold practice by punishing the victims. Notwithstanding, they are so effective at rearranging the facts. I now begin to think about the black-white issue, knowing that for me, growing up in an all-white town allowed me to form my views later in my life. I had the normal role models, such as Willie Mays, Diana Ross, and TV shows such as Mission Impossible and the Flip Wilson Show developed a favorable impression, to go with history heroes such as Abraham Lincoln. My church life helped, contribute to this view, with such songs that began with, Jesus loves the little children, Red, and Yellow, Black-and-White…., therefore, concepts such as racism seemed unreal to me. Why would someone hate someone just because of the color of his or her skin? My post-high school life began quickly as I went into the Air Force. While in my Advanced Individual Training, my roommate, and I hope still is black. He was so special, and I quickly gained great respect for him. His friends would come into our room to visit him, and he told them not to bother me, which comforted me to the place where I could simply relax and listen to what they were saying. He offered me great advice on the clothes to purchase and develop my fashion style, which proved to give me the advantage, as we were all young and away from home. One evening, my roommate and his friends were smoking marijuana in our room. They asked me if I wanted this. I was afraid that to do so could require me to help with the future purchases. I was going through the transition from Stroh’s beer (popular in Ohio during the 70’s) to Coors’s beer, famous in Colorado. Coors satisfied my need to alter my state, with the promise of a porcelain queen in the mornings. I simply laid on my bunk and rested. Strangely, someone knocked on our door. I would have simply opened the door; nevertheless, to be precautious my roommate asked who it was. The individual ignored his request and continued to knock. A few of his guests rushed to our window to toss the marijuana outside, yet found military police officers staring at them. Subsequently, they began to eat the marijuana, eating all their stash. I marveled at how well they disposed of the evidence, to no avail. The military gave them a urine test, which revealed if they had smoked the forbidden substance. When the police came into the room, I was smart enough to pretend to be asleep. They woke me and took me out of the room. The military police asked me why I was in the room. I asked them if they read the names on the door. One had and therefore, established this was also my room. They asked me how I could sleep through this. I explained that they played their music so loud that I could hear nothing else, so I just would go to sleep. I told them I had to survive. They asked me if I knew the smell of marijuana. I told them I came from a small town in Ohio, and thought this was simply black cigarettes. They asked me if I saw anyone smoke. I told them that they smoked non-filtered Camels, and I saw the Salem buts in the ashtray as the police pulled me from my room. It worked, with me being the only white person among this group. My pride was I pulled it off without ratting out my roommate. No one ratted him out, although his urine test came back positive, the commander decided to give him another chance. My roommate and his friends discovered I had given the police no evidence. I told them later that sometimes having a country white boy around was a benefit. They never smoked in our room again. I felt so much at ease with my new black friends, still ignorant to the racial tension that existed between the blacks and whites. I reported to my first duty station, and even though I had my own room, I shared a bathroom with a black airmen for four years. We got along fine.

My last love in the Air Force was a black female airmen named long lost lifetime soul mate. We had a solid relationship and spoke about marriage. I separated from the Air Force and returned to my home to finish my college. I was so shocked when my father and mother, who were divorced and remarried, threatened to leave the Ohio area if I brought my black fiancé to our hometown. I could not believe this; especially since they attended churches and professed, they were Christians. They disproved and as a fool, I broke it off with my long-lost lifetime soul mate, who had announced her love to her family and suffered from her brothers beating her. Both sides were against us, but the question was why, both sides hated one another. I felt bad that my long-lost lifetime soul mate’s faith in me turned out as betrayal. After graduating from college, I entered the Army and got out of Ohio. Twelve years passed after my long-lost lifetime soul mate when I married Younghee, a Korean, whom my family readily accepted. She was my second wife, the first being white. I did not care about my family accepting Younghee, since I lived in Korea for almost ten years and enjoyed it. I was absolutely a minority there and enjoyed when small children would be shocked when they saw me. Their mothers would be accordingly embarrassed as they pulled at their stunned child away from the situation. Korea offered me a chance to be a minority, and I loved it. Younghee bore me, a son and a daughter before cancer required her reproductive organs be surgically removed. She struggled, giving more than 200%, surpassed impossible odds, and earned her Registered Nurse degree passing the excruciating state exam. When I became disabled and no longer able to work, she began her career providing us with a solid life in the state of Washington. This provided me with the tools I needed to begin writing books, with seventeen published so far in the United States, to supplement the four published in South Korea. I began enjoying history shows and documentaries. We are fortunate to live in a nation where the news reports everything. Unfortunately, we ignore the news holding fast to our stereotypical disputability behavior. Our ability to ignore and hear what we want to hear is dangerous. This is almost as if we treat news like religion, another freedom we misuse or ignore.

I see on the news where a black man is shot by the police in Ferguson. The news quickly paints the victim as a bad person and the police officer as an innocent law enforcer. My first consensus was shocked the people in the area were making such a big fuss. I could not understand why they were rioting and causing so much trouble. My perceptional view changed after 11-27. I saw how the police will abuse their power and follow their personal agenda. The report shows where the police officer shot this victim multiple times, as he charged him. My dilemma stems from why this victim changed his path of escape to charge, especially as he was unarmed. There can be purely one possible reason. He was charging the officer as a final attempt to save his life. The police shoot too many people.

A random search on the Internet revealed the extreme statistics of this abuse to the American public. Some facts I discovered at the guardian dot com revealed, In the first 24 days of 2015, police in the US fatally shot more people than the police did in England and Whales, combined, over the past 24 years. Iceland has merely one fatal shooting in its 71 years of existence. One last statistic from these sight reports, Police in the US fatally shot more people in one month this year (March 2015) than police in Australia officially reported during a span of 19 years(between 1992 and 2011). I recommend those who find this alarming to visit <http://www.theguardian.com/ the>counted. My objective is to cite a few solid stats to show how we compare with the world. We are supposed to be the land of the free, ruled by the people. Our police have an apparent tendency to shoot first, or depend on their weapons to enforce the law. The fact is that our nation kills more in days than other nations kill in years. Returning to the Ferguson case, the boy who was shot was juvenile and young people do not have the same logical processing abilities as older adults do. The police officer knew who this escapee was and should have let him go, and apprehend him on another day. The police officer killed this boy, and like a coward resigned. I feel so sorry for his family, who could have to pay for his abuse of police power. This is not something I want to think about, as I can have no satisfaction in the innocent suffering. There was no place for this boy to hide from the police. The police in so many other nations catch their criminals without the use of deadly weapons, so why cannot the land of the free?

The police often use too much destructive behavior, as they did in the Eric Garner case. The ability for the public easily to record video of these encounters prevents the police, solely in these cases to outright lie. One look at Eric Garner revealed that he was not a danger and could be apprehended through some patience and respect. A need for a chokehold did not exist. Naturally, when the police use these violent terrifying methods, the alleged criminal must engage in a lifesaving mode and struggle to keep his life. This man died from suspicion of selling single cigarettes from packs without tax stamps. Multiple police officers forced his face to the ground, restricting his ability to breathe. He cried out eleven times that he could not breathe; nevertheless, the police ignored him and continued their murderous behavior. The medical examiner declared Eric Garner was killed by compression of chest, neck, and prone positioning during physical control by police and thereby declared his death as a homicide. However, the police officer that murdered Eric Garner was not indicted. This man died because he was selling cigarettes that were not taxed. I wonder how those who participated in the Boston Tea Party would have judged this tragedy. Moreover, what is even more disturbing, we can see what happened, and the murderer released. This is not justice, as in spite of when police are caught, they are granted immunity. I was equally disturbed when I saw a police officer mounted on a black female teen in a bikini preparing to give her a thumping. One of her friends saved her life by recording this event. I have a teenage daughter and know how she thinks. She is not letting anything get by her without an argument. I do not jump on top of her and attempt to beat her when she does this. It appears a cell phone is one thing, which is saving us. I was disappointed on my 11-27 when the police took my cell phone. Since this event, I have purchased a watch that can record and take pictures.

There have been other killings by police and so many stories, which is beyond the focus of this revelation of police abuse. The important factor that continues to emerge is those cases where someone video recorded it; the truth comes forward, which, for the most part, reaffirms this shoot to kill philosophy. When I see a police officer shooting a man in the back, I become disturbed. Even the Wild West had a rule against shooting in the back, as a coward’s method to achieve their objective. I lived in Seoul, South Korea for almost ten years. I traveled in crowded subway cars and walked on packed streets. I remember allowing my ten-year-old son to walk two miles from our apartment to the Army Post, without any concerns. He would pass by thousands of people. He was an American with an American mother, my first wife. Therefore, he was a foreigner. I had no concerns, even though I seldom saw a police officer. The ones I saw carried no weapons except for a club that was two feet long. The public obeyed the laws and offered no antisocial behavior. Nevertheless, my father who at that time lived in a small town in Ohio could not let my son walk to a nearby gas station without supervision, beside it was located beside a four-lane highway. There was a possibility that the sexual predator might kidnap my son, and the kidnappers could use the highway in their escape making it difficult for the police to catch them. The United States, which should be the safest place to live in the world; however, we live in fear. We know the police have a bad record of accomplishment in solving crimes and whenever involved appear to obstruct justice by letting the wrongdoers free and entrapping the law-abiding people forcing them to catch the criminal to prove their innocence. This introduces another part of justice that baffles me, and that is plea-bargaining. They actually allow, known criminals to walk free in exchange for their testimony against another. This defies common sense, in that justice cannot be served when a criminal is released, yet his partner in this lawbreaking goes free. I remember watching one case where the three boys were innocent, yet they had to plead guilty to get a reduced sentence. They all agreed and went to prison. I can see through so many documentaries where the innocent person was threatened with a long prison term, notwithstanding, if they plead guilty to a lower charge, they would receive the lesser prison term.

Let us sit back and think about this scenario; two men rob a bank and kill the guard. When the police finally bring them in for questioning, they take the easy way out and instead of using the millions of dollars of police equipment; they tell the suspects who ever rats on the other will get liberated. Therefore, one confesses and walks free, even though he may have been the one who killed the guard, his partner takes the wrap. When his partner discovers the betrayal, he confesses the other man committed the murder, yet now the police refuse to listen to him. The murderer is released as he lies on the witness stand having the full support of the police. The court and jury believe what the police tell them, and the partner gets the electric chair for a murder that the police allowed the murderer to walk free. Where is the justice in this? If someone is guilty of a crime, the police must find the evidence. They cannot depend on criminals to lie to support their case. Only a fool would not jump on this opportunity. Another circumstance, which disturbs me, occurs when prisoners are given deals to testify (or even lie) on another individual to gain a desired conviction. The police must be held accountable to obtain the evidence needed to prosecute a case. If they cannot build the case, then the individual is innocent. Depending on criminals to testify is giving a ticket for someone to gain through lying. To label known criminals as witnesses lack all foundations of truth and justice. How is justice served when it is now exacted on all who violate the laws? Our pledge claims and justice for all. What part of the ‘for all’ am I missing? We are supposed to be guiltless until proven guilty. Such cases as Eric Garner, should be viewed that he was innocent since he was not proven culpable. Now, we have to understand this as the police killing a guiltless man. I know that many people believe that if he were white, he would have been treated differently. I truly do not know the answer for this question, yet I will tell you the reason I am writing this book is that a black officer; with a skinhead idiot, white partner exercised their racist characteristics to revenge me. Therefore, it does work both ways. I do not want to take away from the abuse of blacks; I simply want to warn that our nation is becoming a police state, as the police are now adding the whites to their abuse targets.

Is there any danger in a police state? Hitler and the Nazi’s show what can happen in a police state. This becomes a nest for an abusive leader to control the masses. Stalin is known to have abused his power by killing all who opposed him. We tend to think this happened long ago, and that we have evolved above this. Nevertheless, today July 3, 2015, I read a story on the Internet told by a young woman who had escaped from North Korea and revealed to horrors she witnessed, to include people starving to death among so many other things we can merely tremble when we hear about this. A question arises in who handles this. We understood how the Jews were suffering in Europe during World War II, and even I cannot think about what more we could have done, and at the extreme least am thankful, that Germany was defeated and that not all the Jews were persecuted. My experience with Jews worked from hate to admiration. Thankfully, the hate just lasted a few weeks, whereas the admiration lasted for a few years. I found that I hated Airman Kramer during my basic training because he was always not keeping pace with, notwithstanding, he could get back into step when Staff Sergeant Glen, our drill instructor, looked at him. This naturally caught, me tripping over myself, and the victim of our Drill Sergeant’s wrath. Fortunately, another airman was voluntarily discharged, which forced our platoon to reform and someone else was lined behind Kramer. I could march without any complaints by our Drill Sergeant, since another airman was behind Kramer tripping over his feet. Glenn finally figured out it was Kramer, and I received my consolation when I heard Glenn ripping Kramer. I met my second Jew at my first duty station, and we became great friends. We had so much fun, while he taught me much about the Jews. He was not orthodox; therefore, we drank beer, played sports and watched movies, plus the weekend intensive Risk board games. Once more, I learned these people must not be judged with labels and that anytime we remove a group as our friends, we are truly cheating ourselves. This is where ‘11-27’ tossed me a curve ball, in that I now had a group that I considered as my enemies. I can no longer give the police my allegiance, as I currently believe they cannot be trusted nor are they trying to protect and serve. Naturally, not all fall within this category, as most begin on the track of justice; however, pressure from the corrupt forces them to turn against protecting and give way to vice. This concept is eating my insides out, as I remember watching Adam 12 and supporting the two police officers, while the college students called them pigs and other such things. I just could not comprehend the reason they were so cruel to the police; after all, they were trying to save us from the bad people. My highlight in our government came late one night when I heard the words, One small step for man, and a giant leap for humanity, as Neil Armstrong stepped onto the moon. The Americans met John F. Kennedy’s prediction of the Americans winning the race to the moon. America stood together and redefined humanity’s history. We were proud of our accomplishment, which sadly followed by civil unrest, demonstrations and social change. We were fortunate that a full-scale Civil War did not destroy our nation. The civil rights leader deployed a non-violent approach, which tossed law enforcement a curve ball. The abuses by the local law enforcement gave the president the ability to deploy the various National Guard units to battle with these lawbreaking law officials. Assassinations took the lives of many key players, even including a presidential candidate. Styles and fashions changed, as the length of the skirts rose with the new quest for freedom. Sadly, many achieved their freedom by taking illegal drugs, which made them enemies of the state and a target for law enforcement, who dealt with their fear of the unknown, because they were not experienced in dealing with this new youth rebellion. The rebellion touched, home, as for the first time throughout our history, there was a wide spread in draftees’ evading their national duty.

They were told to travel to a war-torn Asian jungle and put their lives at risk fighting for something they did believe was right. The American Government assured the public this was a war against communism. The communists were painted as slowly taking over the world and taking away religious freedom and individual freedom making the world their slaves. Instead of freedom, their people had jobs. Therefore, many independent Americans lost their freedom, and unfortunately even gave their lives as they were shipped to Vietnam. Rage took over the college campuses as young Americans joined the ranks of George Washington once more fighting for a land governed by the people. Poor and loyal adolescent Americans who survived Vietnam came back to an angry America filled with those who hated them. They did not return as heroes. A few wars ended subsequently early; unfortunately, this confrontation lasted too long. We pride ourselves in how the American Civil War freed slaves. Unfortunately, it did not stop slavery, considering that in 2001, according to the United States State Department, as many as four million men, women, and children were sold as slaves. Slavery is now more widespread than in any other time in history. The question remains that if we are the greatest moral and advanced nation ever to exist, how can so many people be slaves throughout the world during our leadership. It could be easy to overlook, yet key officials in our government are the warnings, providing this information, confusion over who is calling these shots becomes clear. Vietnam is a conflict where the American public’s lack of support gave the enemy a hope to hold on for a victory that soon unfolded before them. They could withstand horrific bombings, depending on the American people to force the United States’ government to withdraw from this conflict. I remember hearing the high-school students talking on a school bus when I was in the fifth grade. One young boy was crying, explaining he was drafted, and thus would have to fight in Vietnam. I thought how unfair this was, this teenage boy was being told he was not free and could face death or even lifetime permanent disabilities while his friends could pursue the American dream. This terrified me. What if they take me and destroy my life when the time came.

We moved to another part of our small town, which gave me the opportunity to walk to school. This separated me from the high school students and removed me from such a close exposure to their agonies. Instead, I discovered the young woman, with children who lived next to us, had a husband who was fighting in Vietnam. She trembled each night while watching the news for updates in this conflict. She was fortunate in the father of her children returned. Her name, Amy, will never leave my heart, as I yet to this day remember the agony; she fought so hard to hide from the children who lived around her. She must have realized that her children could read our faces and needed our books to be a source of faith in them as well. Our government continued to stress the importance of this conflict, yet