[stylist] Feedback request please

Wed Nov 2 11:03:53 UTC 2011

Hi Brad,
Is it OK for me to share this with my brother?

Thanks.

Jim

-----Original Message-----
From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of Brad Dunse'
Sent: Saturday, October 29, 2011 7:31 PM
To: Writer's Division Mailing List
Subject: [stylist] Feedback request please

Feedback of any willing sort is welcome :).
Pasted from Word so for me carriage returns
"look" extra but I don't think they  actually
appear as such visually, not sure though.

Vietnam Memorial Wall

With gear hanging over both shoulders, canvas
pack-straps and their buckles digging in my
sweat-drenched skin, nervous fingers on both
hands re-gripping their assigned provisions every
ten steps, I huffed my way through the crowds of
uniformed soldiers. Picking my way across the
grounds into a slightly wooded area, I finally
was able to drop my bags with a deep sigh, flex
my shoulders, and stretch my back a bit. The tree
allowed a shady escape from the baking sun.
Mid-morning temps were already in the 80's with
matching humiditythey said it would be like
this; and the mercury was meant to reach into the 90's today.

Under the cover of shade, I took in the action
around me; and in amazement, I began to wonder
what the day might look like in hindsight. A bit
nervous of what to expect, I mean the sight of
battle experienced Vietnam soldiers walking
about, and my taking part in something like this
..., I knew I would have a new friend or two by
days end. Looking about, I wondered which one of
the many souls out there would become my new friend.

Finally, two gents approached asking if I was who
I was. Once I affirmed it, we shook hands,
chatted a minute, and opened up our packs. I sat
down on a stool, opened up a case, and started
fiddling around with my guitar a bit.

No, I wasn't in a base camp located in Vietnam, I
was on the State Capitol grounds in St. Paul,
Minnesota; at a kickoff event for what the
governor of Minnesota declared as Vietnam Day.

So why was I there? It wasn't because I served a
tour in Vietnam, I was born about a decade and a
half too late for that. Besides my age (though I
probably didn't know it at 18-years old), there
was a hereditary disease slowly scattering
throughout my retinas affecting my peripheral and
night vision which likely would have sent me back
4F, preventing me from serving in the military.
If that would have not stopped my being shipped
out, eventually from mere survival of the
fittest, some Asian would have carved my name in
the Memorial Wall with the business end of his weapon.

So just exactly what was I doing there at Vietnam
Day? I was invited by a grass roots effort to
come and play some music, sort of 1960's protest
style, only we weren't protesting, we were
joining the proclamation and recognition of the
brave men and women who served in Vietnam.

A compilation CD of Vietnam songs designed to
help heal emotional wounds, and not let the world
forget what suffering went on back then was
released, and a song I co-wrote was picked as the
featured song for the CD. The song I wrote with
two other writers is called "The Wall." The folks
that put on the compilation project wanted me to
come out and play some music, and of course play the featured song on the CD.

So we set up the small gear out on the large
grounds of the celebration and started playing
tunes. We played for children, fellow musicians,
curious event attendees, friends and families of
soldiers who stopped to listen, and then they
came. One of the gentlemen who invited me rounded
the corner with a group of Viet Vets, metals they
earned clinking as they milled about and then he
said, "Brad, why don't you play your song for these gentlemen?"

I will tell you, I've played for many people at
my gigs, but never had I been this nervous. I
stared out with what vision I could muster, and
saw these amazing souls standing before me, who
all but a handful of decades ago were scared,
brave young men watching their buddies tore apart
right next to them in fox holes, on the battle
field, and riding in jeeps they drove; facing
unknown emotional battles of uncertainty whether
the local people there approaching them, men,
women or children all equal in ability; were
allies of safety, or enemies about to cut them
down. But here they were, standing anxiously,
staring at me, wanting to hear the song we'd
written for them and their buddies; and me
desperately hoping we had gotten what they felt inside, right.

I swallowed hard and slow, strummed a few strums
on my guitar to anchor myself a bit, and started to sing:

When you were searching for my name today

I saw you standing there

Man you look different

With that silver in your hair

Me, I haven't changed a bit

Still all of twenty-one

That's the thing about us spirits

We're forever young

At the wall ..., here at the wall

Mid-way through the song, with a quivering lip
and doubts I could even make it all the way
through without choking up, I began to feel a
reverence for these men stronger than ever
before; men who endured not only a very different
battle out on the field and in the jungle, but
also that unexpected one of betrayal soon after
the planes wheels screeched the tarmac of home.

I don't think one strand of my hair laid flat the
entire length of the song, but I did make it
through to the end. When finished, I was
immediately swarmed with soldiers shaking my hand
60's style, patting me on the back and profusely
thanking me for writing the song. All the while
it was me declaring indeed it was I who owe them
thanks, and it's only a shame that the song had
to be written at all. That was one of the, if not
the, most nervous experience I'd ever had playing for anyone.

Prior to "The Wall" being written, I had been
thinking pretty heavy on writing a song about
Vietnam. Considering it, I had decided what
better topic to write on than the wall, maybe the
Traveling Wall? I'd went back up on the National
Memorial website, and spent hours up there
reading profile entries that folks left for their
loved ones. There were old goodbyes and present
tense conversations: words from old high school
buddies, family members keeping up a vigil,
neighborhood friends who popped in after thinking
about them, school teachers who wrote shortly
after the news, and of course those uniquely
bonded souls who served with them in the war ...;
excuse me ..., "police action." Reading the entries
was nearly an addiction for me, I couldn't help
myself. I was up on their site before dinner
time, and finally hunger coupled with drooping
eyes pulled me off when the sun popped up the
next morning. After spending the night reading
droves of profiles of 21-year olds who never came
back, I so much wanted to write a song about
Vietnam and the wall now more than ever.

About a week and a half from that day, having
knocked around some ideas for a song, I open up
my email and see a message from my writing pal.
Unbeknown to him, or anyone really as I had not
told anyone I'd been drawn to write such a song,
other than maybe my wife, I opened up a message
from him wanting to know if I want in on a song
about the Vietnam Wall and the soldiers.
Naturally I was surprised and said sure and a few
days later we had what is the current version of The Wall.

I often wonder, after nearly two weeks of milling
it around, surfing the web, staying up all night
mesmerized by what I was reading, putting myself
in the shoes of those kids and their surviving
families, not saying anything to anyone about my
desire to write such a song about the Vietnam
Wall, and then to be approached with this
opportunity? I don't knowis that just a simple
coincidence? Or could there have been more to it than that?

The Wall has been played at a variety of places
ranging from major commercial country radio, to
web stations, to memorial ceremonies, to my own
gigs; and I am very humbled it will be performed
by a youth band raising brows up and down the
east coast, as they play it as part of their
invitation to perform at the National Memorial
event in Washington DC this Veterans Day on November 11.

<http://www.braddunsemusic.com/music-45.html>Hear
the song in it's entirety and read the lyrics at:
<http://www.braddunsemusic.com/music-45.html>http://www.braddunsemusic.com/music-45.html

Brad Dunse

"The naive believes everything, But the sensible
man considers his steps." --Proverbs

http://www.braddunsemusic.com

http://www.facebook.com/braddunse

http://www.twitter.com/braddunse
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