From Tracy Droz Tragos

Before making this film, I thought about my father every day, but I rarely talked about him. I knew asking questions brought up painful memories for the people I love, and so I seldom did.

For so many of us whose fathers died in Vietnam, our fathers remain a mystery, shrouded in tragedy and remorse. We have no memories of our own, so we depend on the memories of others—and yet we are reluctant and sometimes even discouraged from reviving these memories. We don’t want to cause our mothers or our families pain; we don’t want to be morbid; we are afraid to admit our own grief and loss. And what good will it do to resurrect the memories anyway? Our fathers have been gone such a long time. The Vietnam War is a divisive and uncomfortable subject. And so we keep quiet.

More than anything, this silence is what I hope to break.

By chronicling my own personal struggle to know my father, I hope to help others talk about their loss, and to raise awareness. It is estimated that there are 20,000 Americans who lost fathers in the Vietnam War. The loss we have endured is real, and so is the opportunity for us to heal. Even if the Vietnam War did not directly affect your life, I hope you will be moved by what is universal in my story: the lingering impact of war on families and survivors, the damage of repressing grief and the importance and healing power of remembrance.

Thank you for taking part in this journey.
—Tracy Droz Tragos

9/24/04
Cindy Treadwell Oberschlake

I could empathize with Tracy's feelings in "Be Good, Smile Pretty" in many ways. My story is different from hers in that I was 9 when my father died in Vietnam. On June 3, 1967 Maj. M. Leon Treadwell along with a number of others died when the helicopter they were in crashed I forget where. For me the sense of abandonment has accompanied me all my life though I could not have told anyone that until very recently. My father was 3 weeks from coming home, and when we received the word we were with aunts, uncles, cousins and the atmosphere was celebratory in anticipation. When the uniformed officer arrived at the kitchen door of my aunt's house the silence from the that room was enough to catch the attention of the children playing raucously (all boys except one)in the 'big room'. (I have sometimes wondered how he found us there in rural South Georgia). I have never been without that day, and until I met my husband who is, I am somewhat embarassed to say,like him I had memories of the sound of his voice and his walk. I have always felt like a ship without an anchor, but that is perhaps due in some part to the fact that my mother 'moved on' very quickly. I guess that is a way to deal with the loss for an adult but children need some continuity I think. We did not only lose our father, but the whole sense of family, belonging, and security. We became individuals lving in the same house complete with step father and half sister. We are not an affectionate family yet I remember my father being affectionate and playful with us. It has taken some counseling in my mid 40's to put all this in perspective. There is pain, but I know that people have endured these losses throughout time. I believe that the strong family bonds,faith, and a sense of identity as a person grounded them helped them to understand and deal with their grief.

I cannot go with you to that place of war protesting or to the office of John Kerry though it effected my thinking much of my youth. I had a despondency about government and a sense of betrayal. I see the rightness of your grandmother's view. I see now that thinking my father died for nothing was self destructive. Having gone to a reunion of the people he served with in Vietnam, both enlisted and officers, I see a picture of men who had purpose, a belief of the rightness of their service. There is much more healing than the mud slinging of the war protests. That only brought anger, bitterness, and confusion. Some of those men I met went back for another tour and found a diffient situation. I believe that to be a product of the war protests. I am gratful my father did not experience that. He was a man of purpose and honor. I do not beleive that our being in Vietnam was necessarily wrong, but I do believe that how the war was conducted was.

I am glad you made your film. You brought that longing I feel to reach out and touch my father to the screen and I knew someone really understood. Thanks

7/12/04
Mary Castaldi
Laguna Niguel, CA

World War II called out to him
And that was all it took
But he was there when I was born
I saw my baby book.

When I was six he left again
He looked into my eyes
"I'll be back with hula skirts"
And then he said good-bye.

His uniform was crisp and green
He held me in his arms
I knew he wasn't coming back
No Dad, no skirts, no charms.

And though I was a little girl
I cried upon his shoulder
I knew deep down this was good bye
He wasn't getting older.

I felt so old, so wise that day
I still can feel the shame.
The family gathered round and played
I thought they were insane.

Twas Christmas day and he was gone
Korea was the name
Two months later MIA
No words can share the pain.

Fifty years have come and gone
Since we received the letter
He never came back home to us
It never does get better.

I need to tell the story
Because old men forget.
It's not just soldiers that we lose
their families are bereft.

They hold a family update
To mollify our hurt
And then they send more babies
Out to die on foreign dirt.

It's not that I'm a pacifist
I'm not against all war
But I'm for talk and talk and talk
And then you talk some more.

The wars may be inevitable
And we will be prepared
But war should be the last resort
So little girls are spared.

6/21/04
Michelle

My story sounds so similiar to Tracy's. My father James Michael Triplett was killed on April 17, 1969 and I was only 7 months old. He was a SGT in the Marine corps and was killed by a sniper. So I really have no remembrance stories to talk about. I too only have some pictures of him, but none of him and me. He did get to see me when I was 6 weeks old and I still have the teddy bear he gave me.

My mother was so young when so was widowed and never remarried. I guess this was something she never recovered from.

I have been to the Vietnam Memorial in Washington D.C. and the traveling wall here in my town. I have such a hard time going, it makes my cry to see so many names.

I have not seen the film yet, but I looking foward to.

Thank you for allowing everyone to share with you.

Michelle

P.S. I would love to hear from anyone that knew my father.

6/21/04
Carllyn M. Rausch Boivin
Saline, Michigan

My father, PFC. Carl A. Rausch, Jr. USMCR, was killed in action in WWII in Okinawa, on Apr. 3, 1945. I was one year old when he died and I spent my lifetime in silence, too.

Another war...another place...another time...another face...and yet I am struck by the similarities in your story and mine.

I understand your emptiness and the need within you to search, discover and honor your father's life through your own life. You are making your father proud of you by honoring the past and you are also helping to keep alive all the memories of many generations. All of us who have suffered the death of a father or mother through the horror of war have a common bond and a duty to honor our past and work for peace.

God bless your efforts.

6/17/04
Kim Morrow Taff
Atlanta, GA

Tracy,

I ran across your story on 60 minutes last night and I felt compelled to thank you and share my story. My father, CDR Richard David Morrow was a navy pilot who was shot down in '67 and listed as MIA. I was seven at the time and I have 3 other siblings---we ranged from 8 yrs old to age 2. My mother remarried when I was 10 and they changed his status to KIA. His remains were returned in 1978 when I was 18 and the floodgates opened for all of us. I understand the pain of losing your father, the pain of silence, the need to grieve and memorialize your loved one, the desire to really know someone who is so much a part of who you are! My family has all walked through this journey. I think it must have been especially difficult for you because you did not have siblings who can relate to this particular pain--the hole in your heart left by losing your father that you long to know. Please consider me and all the other children who lost their fathers at a young age your sisters and brothers.

God Bless You Tracy!

6/1/04
Cynthia Denny
San Mateo, CA

5/15/04
Benjamin Fry
London UK

i lost my mother when i was 11 months old. my father married a woman he met a few months after. no one ever spoke of my mother.

over the years of my adult life i collected information about her and recently confronted my father and step-mother with the reality that they had kept her memeory out of our home. my step-mother has not spoken to me since and they deny everything even though many third parties corroborate it.

i always felt that i had a choice between remembering my dead mother and living with my living father. I took the path of least resistance but in the end could not cope with living with anything but the truth.

In the end, it is the truth that cuts through everything and has the greatest power. Even though it has left me isolated, I have never felt more complete in my heart and soul.

It is just such a shame that others can't understand why a child needs to grieve for and to know a parent that was lost before the age of traditional notions of "memories".

Perhpas this film will help.

3/29/04
Judy Cowee
Freewater Or

We haven't seen the movie as yet but my sister told us we should try to get it so my husband can watch it. In talking with him, he felt he had played baseball with your father before the ambush. My husband's boat was the 45. He has often wondered what has happened to any of the "Swifties" as they were called, since that terrible war ended.

We are very proud of what you have done and hope to be able to buy the video or find it to rent. I am hopeful it will bring closuer for him or at least let out some more of his feelings he has never been really able to talk about. He thinks it is the same ambush he was wounded in and I can't tell you how greatful we are that he made it home safely from that terrible experience with a very normal and happy life.

If you can let us know if any other information we might find about this era, please fill free to contact us.

Thank you,
Judy Cowee
wife of a "Swifty"

3/29/04
Cynthia LaPointe
Dayton Ohio

I am the widow of Spec 4 Jospeh G. LaPointe, Jr., MOH receipient. He was a consciencious objector, and was a medic in Vietnam. My son and I traveled to Vietnam with some of the veterans of B-Troop 2/17 of the 101st Airborne Div., with whom he served. We went to the place he died. We climbed Hill 376. A film was made of that journey, and we also wrote journals. It was a healing. Joe III and I went back again the following year with a different set of B-Troop veterans and others. We climbed the hill again and it was just as important for us to go back again. I will go back once or twice more.

3/29/04
Marilynne Kindell
Loves Park, Illinois

I lost a wonderful friend in 1967 and his name was Richard E. Powell. I would love to find someone or some people who served with him in Vietnam. He was from Pennsylvania and has a son named dirk and a daughter named Carolyn Anne. If anyone knows anything of him please contact me. Thank you Tracy for your wonderful story.

3/10/04
Claudette Stumbo Reaume
Ann Arbor, Michigan

"Be good, smile pretty" really touched my heart and soul. My dad was killed while in the U.S. Army when my mom was 9 months pregnant with me. While my first husband and I were in college, he was killed on a summer job when our daughter was one year old, and I was 21 years old. My daughter and I where thrown into a lifetime of paralleled emotions and needs.

I have seen two sides of the same fence--my daughter's and mine. I have watched my dad's loving family reach out to me with their love and their attempt to tell me stories about my dad. On the other hand, my daughter's situation has been so different. Her dad's (very loving) family can not speak of her dad. I helped a writer with a full feature newspaper story in our hometown, requesting "Memories for Melodie." I wanted stories from anyone who remembered Melodie's dad. He had been a local star athlete in high school and gone on to a promising college career. Her dad's family could not reply or talk about the newspaper article. There has always been a wall there. Very sad that grief can do so much, but no one's fault.

I could also relate to the widow in this touching film and her 'feeling so alone' after her husband's death. So very very true. The psychology between mother and daughter was so very interesting also. I felt like I was a part of the actual scene, because I could relate so so much to what was being said. The film helped me to actually feel more 'normal' because it pointed out to me the same emotions, questions, voids, and fears could be understood and felt by others.

I highly recommend this film to anyone who has gone through the lose of a loved one. Especially to those who have orphaned children. No matter how long ago.

Thank you to everyone who created this film and worked on it. You have really touched my heart. I can't wait to purchase my own copy of the film to share with others.

2/23/04
K. J.

Watching Tracy's story was like watching my own life. My dad died in Vietnam in 1965. My four siblings and I also grew up with very little discussion of my dad.

My dad was so moved by the huge number of orphaned children of Vietnam and wanted to help. He wrote to his church in New Orleans and requested that the people send a bar of soap and piece of clothing. His expectations were surpassed and he received donations to also permit him to build an orphanage. He was only in Vietnam for 2 months to the day but accomplished so much. The orphanage was built two years later in his honor and still is operating in Duc Pho. How I wish I could have known my dad. I was only 3 and have no memories. We have learned more about him during the last few years as some of us started requesting information from mom just as Tracy did. Mom has given us much of what we needed. What a wonderful gift to fill gaps that had eluded us for years.

Tracy's documentary is a beautiful tribute to both her father and mother.

2/17/04
Susan Montgomery
Knoxville, TN

Thank you for putting into words so many feelings and experiences that I've known, but have found that so many others do not grasp. My father returned from WWII with a broken back after his plane crashed off New Guinea. He was given alcohol to ease his pain till he could be flown to San Francisco. The alcohol contributed to the end of my parents' marriage when I was 18 months old, and my mother determined that I would never see him or his family again (You could do that back then, I gather). He died when I was 23, and still had not found him although I tried through Southern Bell information, county by county in Georgia. I understand very well the longing to know him and the reluctance to press those who might hold some morsel about who he was. At 36 years old, I found 2 of his brothers and It has been a wonderful experience -- no longer do I feel like an emotional amputee with part of me lopped off or nonexistent. Over the years I compensated for his loss by writing a masters thesis at UNC-CH about slaves who had a secret life that their masters didn't know about. Then I went into clinical psychology to help others heal their wounds, and I dedicate my work to my father.

2/17/04
Gene Hudson
Tarboro, NC

Tracy:

I just wanted you to know that your courage and willingness to do a project that I know was hard for you..didn't go un-noticed...It was greatly appreciated. I knew your Dad real well. I served aboard the USS LITTLE ROCK CLG-4 with him in the MED.

I left in Sept of 1967 and Don was still on the ROCK. I stood watch with him a number of times at sea...He as a fine man..well liked by his peers as well as enlisted men.

2/13/04
Dave Hiddessen
Phoenix, Arizona

Although, I was not present, the death of the 43 is part of my life as well. My best friend, Michael Sandlin, was aboard that boat the day of the ambush. He has never been able to verbalize to me how horrible a day this was for him. I could only see and feel the impact on him through observation. He survived but, not without damage, both physical and I am sure emotional. He was sitting next to Robert Worthington when the rocket hit him. They were good friends and commrades in arms. It is truly impossible for him to rid himself of that memory. He was seriously wounded in the leg and had to be carried off the boat and placed in a defensive position to provide as much firepower as possible. It is amazing to think that any of these men survived this ordeal. Today, Mike Sandlin is still serving his country today as a member of the Navy Seals. I am proud, and humbled to call this fine man my friend. The Nation owes him and all who fought in 'Nam it's undying gratitude for their service then and now.

2/13/04
Dave Hiddessen
Phoenix, Arizona

1/5/04
Michael Lynch
Chicago IL

Dear Tracy
Thank you for sharing your story with all of us. Iwas watching wttw 11 in Chicago late one night when I was feeding my five month old daughter and your show came on. I was glued to the tv . The next few days I thought about your story and family I told my father who was in Vietnam and he just listen to me he was silent the whole time. Some times he talks about it and sometimes he dose not. I have had the opertunaty to atend reunions with my father and it is indescribable,but what history lesson first hand. I was in the Marine Corps for six years and at the end of my contract I wanted to stay in but my wife wanted me out,so I guess you know who won. It is hard to be here and not over seas with my fellow Marines durning these times ,but I have the biggest job in my life being a father. Iam so proud of my father and I know you are so proud of your father. Thank you Mike

12/29/03
Robert Hornberger
Bethlehem, Pennsylvania

I thought be good smile pretty was beautifully written. I can understand how tracy must feel.I talked to her once and i did not want to talk about it. I was with Donald Droz, when he died I was the gunnersmate on the 43 boat, everything happened so fast that day we just could not react fast enough, so i really do understand

11/21/03
Brian Bohlig
San Francisco, CA

My father's name is James Richard Bohlig. He was an F-4 pilot in the Marine Corps during the Vietnam war. His plane went missing on August 19, 1969 and was never found. At the time, my sister was almost 2 years old, I was 10 months and my mother was 25 years old--she never remarried.

Even though I had plenty of family support throughout my life, I always felt different being the son of someone who was "missing" from the Vietnam war. Try explaining that one on "What does your father do?" day at school.

It was not until I was a senior in college that I began to ask more questions about my father and talk more openly about him with others. Three years ago, I traveled to Vietnam to visit Chu Lai where he was stationed during the war. Hearing Tracy's story and talking to others over the years I am always struck about how similar the emotions are...the silence...the feelings of isolation...loneliness...guilt.

At this point in my life, I feel like I have come full circle on it all. I can't say I have closure...frankly don't think that is really possible for me...but I have learned to find strength in my father's death. It has certainly left its mark on me, but I am also thankful for learning at a young age what is truly important in life and for being given such a simple appreciation for just living.

11/17/03
Dave Crawford
Arlington, VA

Powerful film, Tracy. Saw the excerpt on 60 Minutes, and then the PBS version while on the stairstepper (VCR tape). Have to admit I started to cry when I saw you initial the wall below your father in Rich Hill. Fortuneatly, it was 6:00 am and I was alone in the gym, plus I was already wet with sweat. I worry about what I call you adoptive father. Seeing this must be hard on him. I hope things are ok between you. Never saw these boats in the Nam in 1970-1, but did not get near any major rivers.

11/17/03
Elaine Peers
Fall River, Nova Scotia, Canada

Dear Tracy,

I wish to make a comment on your personal story and also a comment on your professional talent as a film maker.

Personal : Our childhood pain of not having our real Daddy to help us grow up does not ever go away - the letters you have received from other war orphans reflect that truth.

I write to validate your emotions about your empty feelings about not knowing your Dad and to applaud your determination that compelled you to recover from obscurity all that would shed light on the man who was your father, in spite of the painful rejection I'm sure you endured many steps of the way.

I related very intimately with your emotions in the "I'm not supposed to ... scene". I believe that, along with other emotions, your years of feeling frustrated and misunderstood were driving you on. You knew in your heart that you had to go on with your search ...but still the critical sources of information where holding back on you...even to the point of trying to invalidate your need to know.

I noticed that you did not use the word "Daddy" - for me the most painful word in the language because it brings back all the childhood pain that had to be endured alone. I believe, as the "big picture" of your story exposes, that much of our unresolved pain rises out of our exclusion from memories of our Dads. I remember that at age 6+ I began to feel "different" because I was treated differently than other kids my age were treated and I didn't understanding why. Thus I felt incredibly alone not knowing whether to feel ashamed and embarrassed ...or what. I, like other war orphans who have written to you, have a hole in my heart that has not "healed" - in almost 60 years.

Professional: Unfortunately we human beings understand the world through the lens of own individual experiences thus many miss the source of your pain. But your film touches a universal very sensitive nerve. I hope you have plans to dig deeper again and touch that nerve. Some letters to you suggest this film is a healing experience for you. I know better...but also I suspect that you have the courage, depth and sensitivity to explore how the pain caused by war impacts the nation for generations. Many people have unresolved pain from the Civil War. This unresolved pain can be very destructive; you have revealed the hole in your heart; there must be a way to reveal the hole in the heart of humanity.

I believe that we can not advance in our humanity until we defeat the cause of war...war is only a symptom...I fear that the cause of war is related to a very big hole in the hearts of everyone on this planet...And you, my dear child Tracy, have picked up a light to shine into its darkness...please do not put that light down.

with love
Elaine Peers,daughter of Douglas W Peers, Pilot Officer RCAF, age 25, died August 13, 1944 over Germany, is buried in British Military Cemetery, Limmer, Germany.

11/17/03
Andre Arseneau
Montreal, Quebec, Canada

Tracy, I was just about to turn in for the night, did a little channel surfing, and your documentary was just coming on PBS Detroit. I was instantly moved & riveted to my TV set. It's now 3am, for some reason I feel compelled to write you a note, the Internet is a wonderful thing! I want to congratulate you for your courage & persistence; this must have been a difficult journey for you and your family. I can't imagine the emotions you must have gone through putting this film together. My father was also born in 1943, we just celebrated his 60th birthday, and I can't imagine growing up without him. Your film has given me even more reason to appreciate him. Thank you. I hope you don't mind me paraphrasing.... be good, smile pretty, I'm sure your Dad is very proud of you.

11/17/03
Brian Killeen
North Egremont,MA

I too, as some of the people who responded, was about to turn of the tv when your story was aired. It was one of the most heartfelt stories i have heard of the vietnam experience. I served in the air force from 1966 to 1970. I followed orders, went where and when i was told and by the luck of the draw never set foot in vietnam, although i spent a fair amount of time in asia. I was the first guy in my unit not to get orders there after 70+ in a row. I still carry a degree of guilt for not having pulled my weight. I am forever proud of men like your dad who made the ultimate sacrafice and all those 100,000's of men and women who simply muddled through a difficult time with honor. Thanks for a wonderful film and for sharing your experience with us.

11/17/03
Alice Vandermark
New Lexington, Ohio

I would like to share with others who have lost someone very dear to them. This is about my brother, Harold R. McCord, who was KIA at Xuan Loc, Vietnam, on May 26, 1970. We called him "Butch". Yesterday, November 15th, was his birthday. He would have been 55. I was only about a year and a helf younger than he, but I was still his "little sister". We were inseparable until he went into the Army. We even graduated from high school together. I know it has been 33 years, and the pain is still there, but so are the memories. I just wonder how different my life would have been had he returned alive. Until July of this year, Vietnam was like another place on the other side of the world where our loved ones died and I thought "No one remembers anymore", but I was so wrong. Then a man called me who was stationed with my brother the night he was killed. It is so comforting to know that there ARE prople who remeber and care. My brother will ALWAYS be my Hero. Thank you.
From Alice Vandermark

11/14/03
Jerry Jones
Newport News VA

Tracy,
I served aboard US Navy Swift Boats in Vietnam in 1968 and 1969 and was aboard PCF 89 on the night our mortar exploded. Three of my crewmen and friends died and one was severely wounded. On the day of the mortar explosion one of my friends got a letter from home announcing that he was a new father. Our Boat officer had a wife and young daughter. It was a nightmare to watch three brave and decent human beings die and see one great guy wounded so bad I felt he would also die from his wounds. I can not possibly count the times I have thought of the families of those men and wonder how they are and if they would like to talk to me about the death of their loved one. I have always felt that I would be happy to talk to them if it would help, but had a dread that perhaps talking to me would just add to their suffering and dredge up pain that had long ago been put to rest. I have had no way of knowing what the effect of talking to me might have on them. There is just no way that we can know of their loss and the pain they have been through. I therefore just went about my life trying to put that night behind me. Then I found the Swiftboat Sailors Association and found that they were having a reunion right here where I live. At the banquet I was about to sit down when a Swifty came up to me and said there was someone that wanted to meet me, and that it was the wife and daughter of my former O-In-C. They were seated at the table of honor as befits their suffering and loss. I felt unworthy of sitting there and started to leave but the daughter of LTjg Wallace asked me to stay and talk to her. She asked me about what happened as she had gotten several conflicting stories about the events of that night. I asked if she really wanted the truth even if it might be painful. She said she did so I told her the facts as best I remember them. She seemed to appreciate knowing the facts. (She has also written a response on this site) I was very uncomfortable talking about it but not because of my p ersonal pain but because of the pain I may add to their already heavy burden. I had no idea of the need that many of the families and loved ones have for knowledge of just what happened. I wonder if the families aren't afraid to talk to us because they are afraid of adding to our pain and visa versa.
Jerry

11/14/03
david mann
metamora, il

tracy,
i just happened upon your film the other night and am so glad i did. my father, david mann, was killed at dak to on may 28,1969, i was born on august 7,1969. i too just recently started to search for information and people that knew my father and what he was like. for many years i also felt like i shouldn't ask questions as to not upset anyone, but finally made the decision to go ahead. i've talked to many people via the internet and this has helped greatly. your story is very much like mine, except my father was only in vietnam for 4 weeks, its harder to find people who knew him. thank you for making this film, i know now that im not alone.
david mann

11/13/03
Brenda Kightlinger

Thank you for sharing your story; it is one many of us war orphaned children understand all to well. I am a member of The American WWII Orphans Network. Please take a moment to visit my dad at - http://www.awon.org/awthomas.html and read the short poem I wrote about my daddy's heart; he was MIA/KIA for too many years.

11/13/03
Rick Gauger
Bellingham, WA

Tracy, thank you and God bless you for your film. I came back from Vietnam unhurt, although I used to dream that I stayed there dead and happy to be that way. I'm better now, thanks to the VA, therapy, medications, and the birth of my daughter who gave me a reason to be alive thirty years after. Your film shows better than anything else I've seen what that sorry Vietnam fiasco did to us all, even to you who didn't experience it. I wish the complacent arrogant fools who ran/run our country (and the ones who voted/vote for them)could be forced to watch it a million times. Your dad, had he survived, would've had a severe case of PTSD which would have affected you very adversely, possibly prevented you from attaining so much success. I don't know anything about your life history, but perhaps your stepfather deserves a lot of credit. He has no reason to feel inferior or ashamed. The anti-war protesters were right, everyone else was wrong. Any veteran who sees your film would want to be your father. Thank you and God bless you.

11/13/03
stephanie fisher
Trumbull CT

Tracy -
Wow. What a powerful piece. I commend you for having the courage to persist in the search for information about your father.

My own father died when I was a baby. 10 months old. I made up stories in my mind about him because I had so few facts. Somehow I just knew not to ask. Later, in my 30s, I found I had an undeniable need to know more. Understand the person who was my father. My mom remarried when i was six and I wouldnt trade my step-family for anything. My quest had nothing to do with them.

At first I thought my mom and sister would be willing to talk about him. I came up against great resistence. I suspected that once the "flood gates" were opened, I might be freaked out at the intensity/magnitude of my own grief. But I stayed my course anyway.

I turned to my fathers sister to see if she would be willing. As you did with your dads friends, I was able to recount events with my aunt that I would otherwise never have known about. I am so grateful for her openness and honesty. She was unsure about "going there" also, but in the end we both could breathe a sigh of relief and see that we would survive the grief.

I was so lucky to have her. We have a very special relationship now and see each other as often as we can. It is a relationship i treasure. She also helped me understand my family and be more compassionate. The experience has changed my life.

I cried alot at the end of your film, but it was the part where you dreamt about your father and he hugged you that I began to sob. I also had a dream. My father touched my face and told me he loved me. So real, so touching, so affirming. I actually hadn't thought about that in awhile.

Thank you for sharing your very personal story. All the best to you and your family -

11/13/03
Naava Piatka
NY NY

My mother died just before the birth of my first child. Even though I knew she was a Holocaust Survivor and a cabaret actress/singer, I didn't know until much later on that she was a famous child star of the Vilna Ghetto in Lithuania, and that she performed in concentration camps and later in the DP camps and brought so much hope and courage to so many people who remember her with love and admiration. In discovering the untold stories about that painful time in which her beloved songwriter brother was murdered and her family killed, I was compelled to create a one-woman musical play which I called "BETTER DON'T TALK! to honor her life. In this play, I act as both myself, having grown up with silence,and my mother, who now tells the stories. I have performed this moving piece, in which I sing my uncle's original songs, all over the world, including the Holocaust Museum. This is my living legacy and my way of paying tribute to my mother and the enormity of her unspeakable past. Audiences truly get my message of the importance of telling one's story and the understanding that the dead are still with us. I recently was invited to perform in Vilnius, Lithuania on the same stage that my mother performed on during the Holocaust. I took a cameraman with me to record the journey. Now I too, am planning to make a film about that journey of discovery to the place of birth and bitter past of my mother. The quest of memory continues . . . .

11/12/03
Chad Kelsch
Columbia, Missouri

I "happened" upon this incredible documentary last night, and rarely have I viewed such a moving piece. One of the things I picked up while watching the film was how reluctant at first most of the participants were to discuss any aspects surrounding this young man's death in Vietnam. It was if they had simply bottled up the event and shoved it deep into a closet. However, as the film progressed, I noticed that the subjects slowly began to open themselves up, and an almost spiritual healing began to take place.

I believe that not only did this filmmaker provide some much needed closure for herself with respect to her father, but she also allowed those who personally knew him to experience a type of peace after all those years of denial and grief.

The film is a living, breathing reminder of how precious life is, and for me demonstrates how a young woman's search for the father she never knew, and the events surrounding his death, led to so much more for so many people.

11/12/03
Ron Janney
San Luis Obispo, California

Tracy, I served with your Dad on the USS Little Rock (CLG 4)in early 1968. I stood bridge watches with him as a junior watch officer while he was the Officer-of-the-Deck. He was a great guy. As mentioned in your story, he did not take himself too seriously, but he did take the job seriously, and was an outstanding Navy officer. It was an honor and privilege to have known him, even if for only a short period of time. We all felt a great loss when we got word of his death.

The Little Rock has an Association for veterans of the ship, and the ship is now a museum in Buffalo, NY. If you are interested in getting information about the ship or the Little Rock Association, I would be honored to provide it to you.

Ron Janney LT(jg) USNR 1967/1970

11/12/03
Jennifer Treadway
Lynchburg, Va.

Tracy, I too lost my father to the Vietnam War... when i was 11 months old. I was able to watch your documentary while visiting with my mother and stepfather (and talked them in to watching it with me). My mother had great difficulty watching, but she was grateful that she did. I can identify (or found myself identifying) with you in a lot of ways. I'm 36 and still have a lot of unanswered questions. My mother still has letters, etc. that i have yet to convince her to let me see. I have had the fortunate opportunity to have met some of my dad's classmates last year and have since made contact with two army buddies. I admire your determination and preseverance to find the answers your searching for and to share such a touching documentary with the world. God bless you Tracy!

11/12/03
N.J. Perkins
Portland, Oregon

Thank you so much for creating such an excellent film. I cried with you and your mother.

Best of luck to you -

11/12/03
Roger David Hardesty
Portland, Oregon

I came of age in the antiwar movement. My cousin's husband was a great guy, a West Point grad on his way to becoming an astronaut, but my feelings around his death in the A Shau valley have for SO LONG been in conflict.

John was shot down the year following his wedding. Though pregnancy prevented my cousin from getting to his bedside, John had the opportunity to hear his daughter's cries, by phone, before dying from his wounds in Japan. Out of respect for my cousin's grief, my family 'moved on.' She remarried a wonderful man, and it seemed somehow disloyal to speak of John. "We wouldn't have behaved any differently if he'd been sentenced to life in prison," I thought to myself.

I empathize with the guilt Lt. Droz' navy buddy has carried. Working with an addict who struggles with heroin relapse - over a command decision that resulted with the death of his team in 'Nam decades ago - I began addressing my own issues of survivor's guilt.

In a twist of fate, I rode with the newlyweds as they parte d for the last time. I was angry with John for his decision to fight in Viet Nam. It's not that I _did_ anything I'm ashamed of; it is the anger I felt in my heart as he left. With his death, I was stuck, forever unable to air my feelings with that bright, gregarious kid I otherwise looked up to.

I have, over time, grown to appreciate Capt. John Speidel's values, and live in awe of his commitment to them.

So formidable the wall of silence, so closely spaced the emotional landmines in my family, I really had no intimate to share my feelings with. My cousin thought my attempt to make amends abhorrently insensitive. I felt self-indulgent for trying.

Last year, a veteran who credits John with helping save his life (www.enquirer.com/editions/2002/05/27/loc_events_of_single_day.html) tracked my family down. I got permission to honor John, graveside, on the 31st anniversary of his passing (I was the only family member to join the veterans, two of whom were wounded in that action). Just as important, I 'co nfessed' my opposition to war... and found acceptance. I admire those soldiers' dedication to become wholly reconciled to 'what is.'

Thank you to the producers, and thank you to all the veteran's and survivors who know that we heal by bringing the reality of what happened to the light of day. Pain shared is pain lessened, I believe. This film was so personal, and yet I know I am not alone in working through my grief.

11/12/03
Pauline Laurent
Santa Rosa, California

Tracy What a powerful piece of art you have created. I don't think we have ever met, but we share a common loss. My husband, Sgt. Howard Querry, was killed in action on May 10, 1968. I was 7 months pregnant at the time with my daughter. The first time we visited The Wall she left a letter for her father informing him that she had been born 2 months after he died and that she was a girl. I can't wait to share your film with her. I find it quite interesting to think that it took us 30+ years to break the silence and start talking about our loss. I have authored a book about my experience. I began writing after a severe depressive episode in 1990 that could have killed me if I had not had my daughter as a reason to continue. Grief Denied A Vietnam Widow's Story took 7 years to write. I had to go back and drag out the box that had been sealed for many years and face the feelings that I couldn't face in 1968. Thank you so much for your film. It will help many others heal. For more info about my book, visit www.griefdenied.com. Thank you for the courage it took to face the grief. Pauline Laurent

11/12/03
Debra Avell

I watched last night and I was filled drawn first by curiosity, then compassion, and found myself in tears sharing the loss of a loved one not known.

As Tracey interviewed Don's associate who expressed his deep grief and personal responsibility over Don's death as he "lay on his butt" in the hospital took my breath away.

I was a very young girl during this TV war we were exposed to in great detail. And not knowing any better I thought high casualty and wounded "counts" aired publicly everynight, were a good thing. I was a devastated young girl upon having my father explain that this meant people dying, or hurt. People not coming home to sit at the table, to be hugged, to be loved.

In my childlike sense, for the remainder of the war, (and to in some way to this day), I carried a personal responsibility every night to each individual associated with these"numbers". Believing, I were a contributor.

My mother and I became anti-war protestors, on behalf of mothers and sisters who wanted - husbands, sons, and fathers home. For us it wasn't political. It was about life.

Years later, I visited the wall to look for my soldier, I wore his MIA bracelet for years.

I hope Tracey can share her personal pride and love with my Soldier "Frederick Ransbottom" KIA, Vietman.

11/12/03
J. Murray
Marlborough , CT

Really enjoyed your story of your search for your father and could'nt help but wonder how many people will be repeating this same search 30 years from now looking for fathers or mothers killed in Iraq.

11/12/03
David Claflin
Boulder, Colorado

Thank you for sharing your catharsis and helping me along with my own. I too, lost my father in Vietnam. He was an F-4 pilot and was listed as MIA in July of 1967. I was three years-old. I was shocked by the feelings and experiences I shared with you. It sounds silly, but I thought I was the only one.

I don't think people realize the kind of scar tissue that can build up over an emotional wound and the hidden feelings that can flow when the wound is opened and allowed to heal. It took courage to share your story. Thank you.

11/12/03
Stephanie Morrison
Los Angeles, CA

Dear Tracy,

I saw most of your film last night on PBS, and I couldn't believe there was somebody out there with such a similar story as mine. It was a little shocking to me, actually. My father was a midwesterner, raised in Iowa, also a Naval Academy graduate (1959), and he was killed in Viet Nam in 1966. I was only 2 when he died, and I never got to know him. He was labeled MIA until 1977, which made matters worse for me, because of the false hopes that created. Your documentary brought up emotions in me that I didn't even know existed; you made me realize I wasn't alone in feeling like I was the only little girl out there who lost her father to a war that nobody agreed with. I wasn't the only one feeling confused and sad, fantasizing about what my father was like, how I, or my life would have been different if he wasn't taken away from me. I thank you for taking me on your journey with you because it was somewhat healing for me. I have repressed so much pain about his loss my entire life. Why was I so sad? How was I supposed to grieve for someone I never knew? Was I even allowed to have those feelings? Watching your film made me feel a little better because now I know I wasn't alone in the experience.

Stephanie Morrison

11/12/03
Wayne E. Turner
El Dorado, Kansas

I watched this film last night (Veteran's Day, Nov. 11) and was so moved by it I looked up your web site today to find out more about the film, its subject, etc.

Though I enjoyed the site and will return to it to absorb more, I have a small, nit-picking complaint about the caption on the left-hand picture on the "Be Good, Smile Pretty" cover page.

The caption starts out "Tracy Tragos holds a picture of her father as a young soldier..." I read that and almost gagged. How dare you idiots be so inaccurate? He was not a "soldier," but a "sailor" or, more accurately, a "Naval Officer." This inexcusable inattention to detail tends to corrupt all the good work your site and, in particular this page, has to offer. It is the type of mistake that, had I made it on an assignment, would have resulted in my first Journalism teacher (Cleve Matthews, the first News Director of NPR's "All Things Considered") handing it back with a failing grade without ever having explored the site further.

That little tirade aside, the film and the web site opened floodgates of memories and tears for me. I was also in the Navy in 1969. Coming out of boot camp in March of 1968, I was originally scheduled as a Gunner's Mate striker and would have been sent to Vietnam immediately after my initial gunnery training (or so the scuttle-butt went). But circumstances intervened and I was instead posted to Torpedoman's "A" School.

But I didn't escape the war. Of course, nobody could at that time and place. As it turned out, I spent six months in the Charleston (S.C.) Naval Hospital as a patient, mostly under observation as an MS suspect. While I was a patient there I met several wounded sailors who were on the river at the same time as LTJG Droz, as well as a good number of USMC members who were returned stateside after being wounded in 'Nam. In each of these cases, I had an intense feeling of "there but for fortune go I."

I still have intense guilt feelings every time I think of those days and the people I knew and met who were so much more physically affected and scarred by that war than I was. My scars are only emotional and psychological.

But perhaps by watching programs like "Be Good, Smile Pretty" even I can be healed of my petty hurts, so much more slight that the gaping wounds left on people like those I knew and on Tracy and her family.