The Black Wall

August, 1985

I have not been to the Black Wall in Washington, but I am told, by articles and photographs, that there are sizable contingents of men who lurk and literally live there at the monument. I have seen pictures of them in worn fatigues, touching the wall, leaning into it as though somewhere in their fingers they might bring the life back to a name blasted into the rock. Apparently, there are flowers left continuously, men sitting under the stars, through wind and rain, seemingly lost in the silence...