Bravo Mom: Whatever the fallout, don’t withdraw love from PTSD vets
Column by Jenny Bartolus
For The Daily News
CHICAGO - Two years after her son Shane was crushed by a falling dresser in the family’s home just outside Chicago, Lisa Siefert drives to her… Read more
He’s built like a bear of a man. Well over six feet tall. Big and sturdy. Graying hair. Tattoos on his arms and hands, some you can see, a spider on his hand, with the words “Widow Maker” under it.
Another with heartfelt words about his feelings regarding the government and its treatment of veterans. Many more I’m sure that are covered under his denim button- down shirts.
When I look at this man, however, one thing stands out. His eyes. His sad, soft eyes that have seen too much, been treated too poorly, and that filled with tears as he told me his story.
We have all heard the stories of the negative treatment to returning Vietnam Veterans.
He lived this treatment. All because he did his job.
Our visits and conversations are generally brief. We speak in between customers that I am helping and he downs a quick cup of black coffee. He knows all about my two sons. I know details of some of his missions in Vietnam.
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