Larry Heinemann You pass the first panel, a single line of four men killed in May, 1968. Guys from Colorado, New York, Texas, and Virginia. The second panel, three lines with fourteen names. Six lines and twenty-nine names. Eight lines of thirty-nine names. As you walk from one panel to the next the lists come thick and fast, the names a blur. Soon the panels are waist high, head high, then higher than you can reach.