Keeping your community covered. We're committed to producing high-quality, fact-based news and information that gives you the facts in this community we call home. If our work has helped you stay informed, take action, or feel more connected to Windham County – please give now to help us reach our goal of raising $150,000 by December 31st.
Keeping your community covered. We're committed to producing high-quality, fact-based news and information that gives you the facts in this community we call home. If our work has helped you stay informed, take action, or feel more connected to Windham County – please give now to help us reach our goal of raising $150,000 by December 31st.
At the end of a long stretch of lawn on the Capitol Mall in Washington, D.C. lies a green depression, deceptively serene and muted. As you approach, it appears like a buried black wall, a bunker without an entrance. People move quietly along it.
One woman is about 60. Her hand slowly traces the thousands of engraved names on the wall until she stops at one. It is the name of her son, killed in Vietnam. She turns to her husband, and they both begin to cry.
More names need to be added to that wall, the names of those who died after the war. They are the soldiers who came home and were devoured by the memories of war, by alcoholism, drug addiction, or hopelessness - and AIDS.
The last battles of the war are fought in the crack houses of Harlem, in the shelters and streets where the homeless live, and on the AIDS hospital ward in a veteran's hospital, where 16 beds are reserved for men with full-blown AIDS and tuberculosis.
