I always think of Gary Whipple on Memorial Day. He sat next to me in study hall. He wore corduroy slacks, crew neck sweaters, and loafers; he had dark curly hair and almond eyes.

I will always remember opening a letter from my mom in December 1968 and finding the clipping that PFC Gary Norman Whipple had been killed in action in South Vietnam. I was 18 years old, and I've always said that I grew up in that moment. How could someone who passed notes to me in study hall be killed in a war?

Rest in peace Gary...and Terry...and all the rest.