A Parade

I landed at El Toro Marine Air Station the week of Thanksgiving 1968. I was newly returned from Vietnam. I got on a bus that drove me to LA International Airport. I changed planes in Denver, then flew to Cedar Rapids, Iowa.

On the flight home I sat next to a very stylish woman around thirty. We didn't talk. My mind was not yet wrapped around being in the United States and heading home. In order to begin my adjustment to a different world, I mentioned to the woman while we were landing that I was returning from Vietnam. She hesitated before replying, "oh." I did not say anything more.

Chicago held a splendid Vietnam Veteran's parade the summer of 1986. It concluded a week of wonderful events the City of Chicago held for the veterans and their families. It meant a lot to so many people, a catharsis of sorts.

The place where I worked allowed everyone who wanted to go to the parade. I went to lunch at McDonald's across the street from the Merchandise Mart where I worked. I thought about marching in the parade while I ate my Big Mac and fries. I went back to work instead.

I was working hard at my career in 1986. I cared about business success most.