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The Viet Nam Memorial Pamela Lee

As one of the millions who touch the wall each day, I had no particular name to seek but marveled at the subtle curve of wall conceived by Maya Lin with all those names. Then reaching up to feel the polished stone and finger someone’s name incised. I don’t remember whose.

How simplicity makes the tragic more profound, more deeply felt. I recall the stark white walls of the synagogue in Prague inscribed with Holocaust names in black. How no one could speak then or now.

It was springtime in Washington, and beyond the Mall there were cherry blossoms.

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