When the Vietnam War of Healing Rolls into Town in Clinton Township, MI.

With police escort, and more, the moving mobile Vietnam Wall rolled into Clinton Township Wednesday afternoon, north of Detroit. Always a solemn and sacred time, the Wall's presence provides an outlet for healing for many who have experienced the loss of loved ones in that battle. Merging misery with mystery, my tears wed wit the rain as it poured on to my head as I searched for my deceased brother's name on the black granite and polished wall in November of 1982 when the wall was dedicated. In the Washington National Cathedral the names of the more than 58,000 military personnel, among those missing in action, were read out loud. I got to say my bother's name, Lukas Ventline's. As I shuttered from the rain outside, and, the rush to the Cathedral, I had a grateful heart. I did. For Lukas. For those who served. With thanks to a grateful nation. My prayer tonight at the Wall sitting on the Clinton Township Civic Center, I will say: It was all sacred that night I flew into D.C. from Detroit, O God. Sacred silence and a hushed quiet awaited me. Soldiers assisted me in finding my brother's name on the wall as the rain wed with my tears. While the holy water poured and poured and soaked this saturated soul, it was clearly sacred ground. Silence pervades. Stillness did also. We were all like one soul silenced in the sacred moment of the many who died in Vietnam. I touched the granite black and polished wall and felt my hand feel his name, his heart, the wounds that mangled his temple. With thanks, and, the rain still pouring, O God, I said, "Give me always a grateful heart." I left. In silence. Amen.