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NORTH COAST TIMES EAGLE, 27TH BIRTHDAY ISSUE, JULY 2006
HORACIO FIDEL CARDO
FREAKS & BABYKILLERS
BY ELIZABETH LIEBIG
It was a hot day in April of 1975.1 was 13 and searching
for my place in a world that made no sense to me. My mother
was very ill, my father was an alcoholic and the world was
coming unglued around me. I walked from the city bus, up a
flight of stairs and into my dad’s office. I quickly ascertained he
wasn't there and sat down at his desk. He was the director of a
community action program that offered every kind of service from
a free medical clinic to retraining programs for veterans.
As I sat down I realized the room was abuzz with activi
ties — much more than normal. I had never answered the phone
but when it rang one of the other people signaled for me to pick it
up I said nervously, “Community Action, may I help you?"
“Yah, is Tommy there?” a ragged voice asked on the
other end.
“No, but I’m his daughter. Can I help?”
“Have you been watching the news?" the voice
demanded.
“I’ve been at school all day, but.. ."
The man on the other end interrupted me. “The commies
are taking it honey. Saigon, Vietnam. Our boys died for nothin’.”
Panic set in. I had no idea what I was dealing with here,
and I was pretty sure my intro to psychology class wasn’t going
to help. I tried to get someone’s attention, but everyone was too
involved to help me.
“I don’t think they died for nothing.” Boy, that sounded
stupid.
“Have you ever held your best friend as he died in your
arms? Have you ever smelled blood in the jungle? There is this
irony smell from the blood and the smell of decaying plants. And
then he gasps his last breath and dies with his eyes staring up at
you. It haunts you. What’s your name?"
"Rebecca."
"Rebecca, do you know what I have?”
“No sir.”
“I’m sitting here with a fifth of Jack and my service
revolver. Do you know what I’m going to do?”
“Finish the fifth and take your own life?" I’d seen this on
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TV Boy, I sounded all grown up but I was scared to death. I had
to stop this man.
“Good girl. Smart."
The line went quiet and I realized I had to do something.
“Sir, what is your name?”
“Jack. My name is Jack. Everyone is afraid of me. They
say I’m a baby killer and a freak."
“I don't think you are either. Jack, tell me about your
friend.”
“Do you know the Barry Sadler song, Watching the Rain
Drops FalP"
“Of course...urn...‘I’m watching the raindrops fall' and
something about shadows on the wall."
PTSD
BY ANNA MYERS
PTSD stands for post traumatic syndrome disorder.
It impacts the veterans of our country. The vets who live with
PTSD have difficulty both at home and at work coping with
every day life situations. PTSD impacts them in many ways;
divorce, suicide, loss of custody of children or visitation rights.
PTSD impacts veterans of past wars, but it is now
impacting the vets who are coming home from the Iraq War.
Many of today’s vets have served three or more tours of duty
in Iraq. I think it is wrong for anyone to serve in a war that many
times.
In the Vietnam War we had so many vets who came
back with PTSD because of what they had to do in order to stay
alive. Some of the vets who return from war have the added
burden of survivor’s guilt. Survivor's guilt is wondering why they
survived a traumatic event but their comrades perished.
PTSD is a recognized medical condition characterized
by exposure to a traumatic event. A person will experience this
event through a flashback, and believe the event is happening
again. Many other symptoms can include depression, anxiety,
sleep disorder, and outbursts of anger (which may bring violent
harm to themselves or others). Not all vets suffer from all symp
toms at one time. Vets may not know or care to divulge if they
are suffering from these symptoms, even to loved ones.
PTSD does not have to occur every year but can vary
from year to year, depending on traumatic events that have
happened to the individual. Gordon Kero, a Desert Storm
veteran in our community, suffers from PTSD. Last year he
had little or no flashbacks, but this year he has suffered from
many flashbacks, his most traumatic in June.
Anna Myers is the daughter of Elizabeth Liebig She
is 22 years old. She was born with the effects of Agent Orange
Her father was a Vietnam veteran who died from Agent Orange
exposure when she was 18 months old.
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“God, Rebecca, you must be the only woman in America
who knows it. I'm like Sadler — my friends come to me at night
and say, ‘Don't let us die in vain.'”
“They didn’t die in vain, Jack. You are here to tell their
story.” I was searching for words and nothing seemed to make
sense.
“Well, I guess I am.”
For the next hour I listened as he related stories about
being in combat. That hour changed my world forever. Many
things he said to me I have never repeated to anyone, and many
of the things he told me are as clear today as they were on that
April afternoon. When the conversation ended, so did my child
hood.
As the conversation drew to a close I said, “Jack, can
you do me a favor?”
“You listened. What?” he replied, his voice sounding sad
and exhausted.
“Empty your service revolver where I can hear it,”
I requested. I don’t honestly know where that came from.
“Sure. Can we talk again?"
“I’m here almost every afternoon.”
I heard the chamber snap open and the bullets clank into
or onto something.
“Thanks Jack.” I was never so relieved to hear that
noise.
“Bye Rebecca.”
For the next 10 years I continued in school, worked with
vets both as a listening ear and an advisor, and I was also
involved in fund raising and lobbying for basic veterans
programs. My daughter was born in 1984 and in 1990 I went
back to school and made the biggest mistake of my life — I
became a teacher.
I do not regret getting my degree in social work so I
could continue to work with vets. I know today I could once again
be of use but I don’t have the money to return to school and
there is no financial aid for people who already have a degree.
My heart and soul wants to be back and working with the men
and women coming home now.
Elizabeth Liebig is the high school coordinator at Tongue
Point Job Corps Center. She lives in Astoria.
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