Back in the world
Back in the world now. got in Monday afternoon after a long long long flight...my ass feels like it'll be sore for a month.....quickly got back into my old routine. slept soundly and up at 4:30; my bookstore is back in operation and all is well.
Seoul korea airport, 3 hour layover for my flight to Atlanta and then on home to RDU and Chapel Hill….
What an extraordinary 2 weeks in my life it’s been. Everybody had left and Ralph and I still had the “War Remnants Museum to see,” mainly because the Requiem exhibit in memory of all the photographers who died was there.
Neither one of us was prepared for what we saw. There were the expected American aircraft and tanks; there also were replicas of the torture chambers where the Viet Cong and NVA were brutally interrogated by the Americans and the South Vietnamese.
The exhibit actually began or ended with a real guillotine brought to Vietnam by the French….and one had to remember that this was actually invented as a humane device that killed quickly without the usual extended pain. What struck me as I thought about it this morning was how we moved from the Khmer Rouge atrocities in Phnom Penh to our own American atrocities in VN…..Larry Burroughs family going to pay homage to the girl in his photographs….Richard Brummett, coming back to apologize to the family of the old man tortured by his sergeant…and breaking down as he told Ralph about it.
The reconstructed torture chambers included real barbed wire “tiger cages,” so tiny a prisoner could not move without being sliced by barbed wire. we went into the main exhibition building, a very modern open structure with no air conditioning but lots of fans scattered about. Again, all the weapons were there, but what was truly numbing were the displays of families destroyed by the war—not VC, not the enemy, but mothers, fathers, children….with snapshots and formal portraits and life stories. The My Lai massacre took up an entire wall…again not political enemies now, but real live human beings with relatives, friends and families. Another display was devoted to the unbelievably barbaric slaughter Sen. Bob Kerrey engaged in—killing women and children and gutting them like animals.
With the oppressive heat adding to the emotions, we were both numb by the time we reached the 3rd floor. It is a splendid exhibit, if non-air conditioned! Huge fans have been placed around at Tim Page’s very loud insistence…..And there were all the photos of the real horror of war, our own American troops in those last desperate moments facing death.
And there were my friends. Unlike earlier exhibits I’d seen, the photos were a mixed bag from all the photographers…..with various ones spread about the enormous space, not grouped in special exhibits….although there is a special wall or two or three for Larry Burroughs incredible photos. There were several photos by Dana Stone and Sean Flynn….and by Henri Huet and Kyoichi Sawada….I thought about all the fun I’d had with Dana; the quiet moments with Flynn….about what a gentle man was Sawada and how kind he always was with me…that weekend he and his wife, Bert Okuley and I went from Hong Kong to Macau….and I had to marvel once again at the amazing experience had dropped me into in Vietnam….such talented people I am humbled even to have my name listed among theirs….their contributions so much more important than anything I’ve ever done or ever will do. How lucky am I to have been a member of that very special group and to have shared in this historic experience.
I will be sorting out these two weeks for a very long time. Carl Robinson jammed a lifetime—several life times—of experiences into 14 very short days. I told him I’m like the kid who goes to summer camp and loves it and then years to take all his pals home with him, knowing how much he’ll miss them once he gets home. But, again, how lucky was I to have ever been a member of this fascinating band of reporters…..
Seoul korea airport, 3 hour layover for my flight to Atlanta and then on home to RDU and Chapel Hill….
What an extraordinary 2 weeks in my life it’s been. Everybody had left and Ralph and I still had the “War Remnants Museum to see,” mainly because the Requiem exhibit in memory of all the photographers who died was there.
Neither one of us was prepared for what we saw. There were the expected American aircraft and tanks; there also were replicas of the torture chambers where the Viet Cong and NVA were brutally interrogated by the Americans and the South Vietnamese.
The exhibit actually began or ended with a real guillotine brought to Vietnam by the French….and one had to remember that this was actually invented as a humane device that killed quickly without the usual extended pain. What struck me as I thought about it this morning was how we moved from the Khmer Rouge atrocities in Phnom Penh to our own American atrocities in VN…..Larry Burroughs family going to pay homage to the girl in his photographs….Richard Brummett, coming back to apologize to the family of the old man tortured by his sergeant…and breaking down as he told Ralph about it.
The reconstructed torture chambers included real barbed wire “tiger cages,” so tiny a prisoner could not move without being sliced by barbed wire. we went into the main exhibition building, a very modern open structure with no air conditioning but lots of fans scattered about. Again, all the weapons were there, but what was truly numbing were the displays of families destroyed by the war—not VC, not the enemy, but mothers, fathers, children….with snapshots and formal portraits and life stories. The My Lai massacre took up an entire wall…again not political enemies now, but real live human beings with relatives, friends and families. Another display was devoted to the unbelievably barbaric slaughter Sen. Bob Kerrey engaged in—killing women and children and gutting them like animals.
With the oppressive heat adding to the emotions, we were both numb by the time we reached the 3rd floor. It is a splendid exhibit, if non-air conditioned! Huge fans have been placed around at Tim Page’s very loud insistence…..And there were all the photos of the real horror of war, our own American troops in those last desperate moments facing death.
And there were my friends. Unlike earlier exhibits I’d seen, the photos were a mixed bag from all the photographers…..with various ones spread about the enormous space, not grouped in special exhibits….although there is a special wall or two or three for Larry Burroughs incredible photos. There were several photos by Dana Stone and Sean Flynn….and by Henri Huet and Kyoichi Sawada….I thought about all the fun I’d had with Dana; the quiet moments with Flynn….about what a gentle man was Sawada and how kind he always was with me…that weekend he and his wife, Bert Okuley and I went from Hong Kong to Macau….and I had to marvel once again at the amazing experience had dropped me into in Vietnam….such talented people I am humbled even to have my name listed among theirs….their contributions so much more important than anything I’ve ever done or ever will do. How lucky am I to have been a member of that very special group and to have shared in this historic experience.
I will be sorting out these two weeks for a very long time. Carl Robinson jammed a lifetime—several life times—of experiences into 14 very short days. I told him I’m like the kid who goes to summer camp and loves it and then years to take all his pals home with him, knowing how much he’ll miss them once he gets home. But, again, how lucky was I to have ever been a member of this fascinating band of reporters…..
posted by Perry Deane Young at 2:40 AM
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