"I just wanted to shake your hand," said a trim and muscular 30 ish man, as his 30 ish lady friend, also in top shape, stood behind him. "We think it's great what you're doing."
"Thank you for caring for these people," I replied in reference to the sign.
In Iraq this week, death ripped through the nation. On Monday for example, in Ramadi, about 60 miles west of Baghdad, a suicide bomber drove an explosive laden truck into a police station.
An instant later, seven people were blown to bits and 16 more were severely injured as the stench of thick black gray acidic smoke engulfed the surrounding area. And soon afterward the victims' families got the gut wrenching news.
As tears flooded down their cheeks, it couldn't wash away the ache that overwhelmed them. Only hours earlier their lost loved ones had lives and plans and now they're gone. Their clothes hang in their closets, pictures smile brightly and memories are everywhere. But now that's all it can be.
The survivors must break this sad news to others and they have funeral services to plan and pay for. They will now have an intense struggle to function each day without the paycheck the whole family depended on to keep a roof over their heads and put food on the table.
As for the severely injured, their families rush to them, hoping their loved ones will survive and live normal lives again. Those families put everything on hold and if necessary they will mortgage their homes and sell what they own to pay for the medical care.
On that day in Iraq, 23 people were killed and 50 were severely injured. And each day is like this one in this war torn nation.
But thousands of miles away, last night's vigil was joined for about 40 minutes by John Fortier, a 76 year old Korean War veteran. John conducts a peace vigil every Friday evening nearby, a vigil that began as President Bush ordered the invasion of Iraq in 2003.
John knew what Mr. Bush was about to do was a horrific mistake and he appealed to others to help prevent it. Now, with over a million people killed and Iraq in ruins, in a war that continues today, John was proven right.
He knows first hand the agony war brings. When John was just 19 years old, he was a tail gunner opening fire on enemy troops as his aircraft swept down on them at high rates of speed. His actions took their toll in blood on anyone in the line of fire.
And for all the years since, John has carried in his heart a burden of deep regret. In response, he's determined to help bring peace and reaches out to others to join him.
But his effort doesn't stop there. For peace to take hold, the world must become a better place for all. John was a devoted school teacher and counselor including in South Central Los Angeles, until his retirement at age 66, nine years ago.
Yet he never retired. As a volunteer, he teaches and counsels at a nearby Samoan Center, at an Indian Center and at various other places where people are desperately trying to uplift themselves.
As frequently happens, when there is a shortage of books or equipment, it somehow always quietly gets solved, whether from John's creativeness or out of his wallet.
John and his wife Michelle just adopted a rescue dog. They got it from a police officer who found it wandering alone, lost in the world. She gave it to a shelter for adoption.
But a week later when the shelter couldn't find a home for this loving little pet, she learned it was about to be euthanized to make room for another homeless dog.
Desperate, she took the dog with her but it couldn't stay in her apartment. She met John and Michelle in a parking lot and moments later this tiny pup had a home.
All of these actions speak to the character and compassion of John Fortier for this is how he lives his life. He and Michelle have sons 44, 42 and 41 so over many years she's gotten used to his idiosyncrasies and his causes.
After John left, a 50 ish woman on a bike said, "I hope it will be over soon." I hope it will be over as well, but for now each week we will continue to light our candles and conduct vigils and raise our voices for peace.
Dick
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