The sacrifice of a life

A curious thing happened yesterday on Highway 1. We took a trip up to Big Sur with the Schuler sisters (more on that later), and around San Simeon we picked up a hitchhiker. This isn't normal for us- actually, none of us had ever done this before. We passed him walking along the highway, and we felt compelled to offer him a ride. He carried a large pack, and his small body looked tired as he struggled down the road. 

His name was Darrell, and he was a rancher from Montana. It didn't take him long to feel comfortable in the back seat next to the sisters, or perhaps his situation in life made it so that comfort necessary before opening up to strangers. He had come out from Montana for a visit to the coast, and he was making his way up to Eureka where his brother would take him to surgery. He had cancer, and was probably going to die soon.

He told of how he'd spent years in Vietnam and was on the ground when the US sprayed Agent Orange. The government said it was a harmless herbicide that would clear the plant life but leave people unharmed, and the soldiers believed it. They even bathed in the containers. Now, it had given him a tumor in his brain and a few more in his stomach. He spent years feeling helpless as he tried to get the government to take responsibility for what it had done, for stealing his life. He collected 6,000 signatures of soldiers and presented them to representatives in DC, and he saw the signatures thrown into the trash as he walked out the door. 

His entire life has been affected by his years as a soldier. He still has nightmares about what he saw, and did, in Vietnam. He didn't choose this life- he wasn't really given a choice. I wish I could say he taught me some beautiful lesson about how to feel hope and joy despite terrible life experiences, but that is not true. His spirit was beaten down and heavy. He smiled, but there was pain. 

I've never felt much emotion connected to Memorial Day. It is hard for me to comprehend the depth of a sacrifice of an entire life, entire lives...but his story made it easier. 

Darrell's daughter is 6 months pregnant, and we are praying that he lives to see the birth of his granddaughter.