Did we forget?

On May 5, 2008, in Uncategorized, by The News Staff

By William C. Shelton

Sheltonheadshot_sm(The opinions and views expressed in the commentaries of The Somerville News belong solely to the authors of those commentaries and do not reflect the views or opinions of The Somerville News, its staff or publishers.)

In gratitude for all those who…gave their last full measure of devotion, lest we forget.
– Honor Roll,
  City Hall Concourse

We can’t forget.
– Vietnam Memorial,
  City Hall Concourse

Every marine, soldier, sailor, and airman takes an oath to support and defend the Constitution of the United States. Six monuments on the Concourse that runs between City Hall and the Public Library commemorate Somervillians who gave their lives to uphold that oath-78 in World War II, 31 in Korea, and 33 in Vietnam.

In January 2006, the Board of Aldermen passed an ordinance giving the Somerville Veterans Commission on Monuments, Memorials, and Dedications “charge and control” and “custody and care” of these monuments. It also decreed, “no name shall be given to the City Hall, High School or the Concourse.” In September 2007, the Board passed this amendment: “The concourse shall be named Anthony Fedele Way.”

Tony Fedele was an exceptional Somerville educator and outstanding citizen. However, a month earlier, this newspaper had suggested that the Board honor him in a way that did not infringe on the Concourse’s role as a memorial to those who had died in our defense.

Veterans groups across the city only recently learned of this change. American Legion Posts 19, 388 and 527, VFW Post 529, Disabled American Veterans, Gold Star Mothers, and the Allied Veterans’ Council have all submitted letters of protest to the Board. Since these letters were placed in file, the Board is not obligated to act.

The veterans revere Tony’s legacy. Indeed, some cite his teaching as the inspiration for their patriotism. But they view the change as a betrayal of a promise. They feel outraged that they were never notified, the amendment was never the subject of a public hearing, and the Veterans Commission on Monuments was never consulted. John O’Leary, the mayor’s liaison to the Allied Veterans’ Council, wrote, ‚ÄúI’m amazed that the city has public hearings regarding Dog parks, but did not bother to include the Veterans community [in this decision].‚Äù

City Public Information Officer Jackie Rosetti told me that there has been an unfortunate misunderstanding. The intent of the Board was not to rename the entire Concourse, but only to call the driveway fronting City Hall and the high school “Fedele Way.” She said that the community deeply appreciates the contributions made by veterans, but would also like to rename this small portion of the Concourse to appreciate the contributions of a beloved educator.

Veterans groups whom I was able to reach were skeptical of Ms. Rosetti’s response. For example, American Legion Post 19’s Commander Stephen Pitcher and past Commander Warren Fencle termed it ‚Äúmore politicians’ talk.‚Äù

Some readers will think that the veterans are oversensitive. They already have monuments. What’s the big deal? Those who believe this have never survived combat, or held a loved one who has, through the dark night of the soul.

We are steeped in popular-culture depictions in which bad guys are vanquished, some good guys die nobly, and the rest triumph and live happily ever after. Simply describing the circumstances of strangers doing their best to kill you, brothers being torn apart by enemy fire, and you struggling to keep them and yourself alive does not fully convey the experience.

You’re in a situation that you can’t live in, you can’t get out of, and goes on and on. The gain-control on your fight-or-flight response gets shoved up so high that it breaks off. Your synapses fire so intensely for so long that they use up all of your available adrenalin, serotonin, and norepinephrine. To conserve these chemical messengers for future survival, the synapses down-regulate. In times to come, your feelings will habitually be so dark and blunted that these synapses will require massive stimulation to fire. When they do, you will be overwhelmed by their explosive disorienting intensity.

In the moment, survival depends on keen awareness, and the doors of perception get jammed wide open. A giant undigested bolus of frozen terror, horrific imagery, anger, hypervigilance, and guilt passes through those doors unimpeded and takes up permanent residence in your brain. The guilt is about being alive. You feel the same undeserved self-condemnation that rape victims report.

Nowhere, among your friends, in film or fiction, in journalistic accounts, do you see anything that accurately describes what you’ve experienced. You really don’t have the language to effectively convey it, and people give you subtle signals that they don’t want to hear it, or don’t know how to. The easy, idiotic grin of people in commercials, television programs, and even at work and family gatherings is a constant reminder that you are different. It councils you to keep your inner horror to yourself. You feel that you have been broken in some way that can never be fixed. You begin to feel ‚Äúother.‚Äù

The politicians pay lip service to you, while they pay a private company to assess whether you are disabled. The company has incentives to determine that you aren’t. The help that you get is hit or miss. You understand why so many people don’t get what you’re going through or what you have given, but you can’t help but resent them a little for it. And you feel badly about that too.

For you, all this is what those few public remembrances of your sacrifice commemorate. To others, the memorials are simply recognitions of those who gave a few years to Uncle Sam before pursuing their careers. Or, of those who had the terrible luck to die in the process.

Those who think that aren’t bad people. They just don’t share your experience. And they probably don’t understand why taking away even one of the precious few memorials to those who did not come back, or who came back very different, would be hurtful.

Tony Fedele, a veteran himself, loved to teach young people about the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. He cherished their creators and those who risked their lives to defend them. When the founders pledged ‚Äúour lives, our fortunes and our sacred honor,‚Äù they weren’t just mouthing patriotic sentiments. Unlike today’s leaders who ask only combatants and their families to sacrifice, the signers’ necks would have swung in English nooses if they had failed. I’m guessing that Tony wouldn’t think that renaming the Concourse was such a good idea.

So it seems to me that the Board of Aldermen, with the best of sincere intentions, made a mistake. No big deal. We all make mistakes and fix them on a regular basis. Alderman Bruce Desmond, who proposed the amendment, is chagrined and saddened by the distress it has caused. He is willing to rescind the amendment, meet with the veterans, and find a more fitting memorial for Tony. That’s how we as a community come to understand each other and make things better.

Ms. Rosetti told me that the city will be drawing up extensive plans for renovating and redesigning the Concourse, and the veterans’ memorials will have an honored place. It would probably be a good idea to involve the Veterans Council on Monuments, Memorials, and Dedications in the planning.

 

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