Perspective from the 19^th Hole is the title I chose for my personal blog, which is meant to give me an outlet for one of my favorite crafts – writing – plus to use an image from my favorite sport, golf.  Out of college, my first job was as a reporter for the Daily Astorian in Astoria, Oregon, and I went on from there to practice writing in all my professional positions, including as press secretary in Washington, D.C. for a Democrat Congressman from Oregon (Les AuCoin), as an Oregon state government manager in Salem and Portland, as press secretary for Oregon’s last Republican governor (Vic Atiyeh), and as a private sector lobbyist.  This blog also allows me to link another favorite pastime – politics and the art of developing public policy – to what I write.  I could have called this blog “Middle Ground,” for that is what I long for in both politics and golf.  The middle ground is often where the best public policy decisions lie.  And it is where you want to be on a golf course.

This blog headline cites an incredible fact:  It’s been 50 years since the Vietnam War ended?

I have lived through those 50 years, just as I lived through the lead-up to the War and the War itself.

It was an event – of course, not just an “event” – but a time of tumult for this country as a war raged on that few citizens understood.  And, many in my age group died fighting the war, which also made no sense.

Photos of the war – and its end – remain fresh in my mind, including the ones of helicopters trying to lift people out of the U.S. Embassy in Saigon before they would be killed or captured.

Back in 1970, as the war continued toward what turned out to be its end, I was just trying to finish college.  A few weeks before the end of that four-year run, the draft lottery took place.

So, as the birthdays were read out loud on the radio, my birth date came up as #32, which meant it would be clear I would be subject to the draft (because the expectation then was that birthdays up to #150 would be subject to being drafted).

The next day, in Seattle, Washington, where I was in college, I went over to the Army Recruiting Station and, fearing I would be a long line around the block, I intended to endure the time, whatever it was, to sign up.

But, I was only person there, so I signed up for what was a six-year hitch, all of which, back in those days, would occur in the states, not overseas.

I had these reasons for signing up:

• I did think it was a good idea to serve my country.

• But, candidly, I wanted to avoid going to Vietnam where I would be risking my life for no good reason.

In 1976, I completed my six years of service.

But, for many friends, Vietnam is continuing to take a toll.  In one specific case, one of my friends, also subject to the draft lottery, took his chances and was drafted.  Trained as a medic, he spent the last eight months of his two-year hitch out in the killing fields, tending under fire to the wounded and maimed.

He managed to make it out alive, but some years later, succumbed to “agent orange” exposure.

My brother-in-law, now almost 90, flew rescue helicopters in Vietnam and also came down with agent orange, from which he will never recover in these the most likely final days of his life.

Various national publications are covering the 50-year Vietnam War anniversary, none better than the News York Times, which is carrying a major story, replete with pictures. 

But, rather than focusing only on the War itself, the Times piece summarizes what has happened to Vietnam in 50 years.  It is now a tourist destination.

I have a number of friends who vacationed there and report a positive experience.  But, for my part, I will never go there. 

Even after 50 years, the War – and its casualties – are fresh enough in my mind, that Vietnam does not beckon.

This is the way the New York Times ended one of its Vietnam War stories today:

“For decades, the conflict in Vietnam lay at the heart of America’s discussion about itself, about what it meant for the world’s wealthiest nation to fight and lose a war in which the purpose was never clear, and that viscerally divided a generation.”

Even now, after 50 years, the purpose still is not clear – not clear to many, including me.