Jim Hartnett

Jim Hartnett

Pictures you never forget. Jimmy and I played Little League Baseball in Redwood City against each other in the early 1960s. Good hands. Good Italian kid. But it is from the summer of 1976 that I remember him most. My work took me to the Veterans Administration complex in Menlo Park. I encountered Jimmy one sunny afternoon walking the grounds, I think he may have had a beard, and we talked about baseball. Before I could ask him what he was doing there, he said: “My general left me by myself in a field.” I never saw Jimmy again.

In what must have been 1969, I can still see like it was yesterday the closet door in a narrow hallway at our home in Redwood City. On the door was a map of Vietnam. In Vietnam was my brother, a Marine. My parents kept track. My brother started sending me mail in which there were sealed envelopes marked “War Stories.” He instructed me to not open those War Story envelopes unless he didn’t come back. I still remember kneeling in front of the open closet door of his room, sun from a window to the backyard shining through, looking at the first War Story envelope, and hiding it. I never told my parents. I thank God I never had to open the envelopes.

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