Dave Cline, I never knew you. I never met you, and I don't remember hearing about you until it was too late.
But Dave Cline, I assure you, even though we didn't know each other, I felt your presence like a guiding hand. I felt your commitment, your courage, and heard your voice in every courageous man or woman who spoke truth to power. I saw you, and those who followed your example, in the refusal of individuals to follow where injustice led. I saw you in the names of your brothers in arms on black granite in the early morning sunshine, in the paragraphs of the textbooks that first taught me that war answers nothing.
I sensed your brave presence in pictures--pictures of veterans' tears falling as they made rubbings of names on stone, in pictures of flowers left between etched panels of granite, of remembrances left along walkways of stone: wreaths and motorcycles and cans of beer and strings of beads that spoke of brotherhood. I saw you and yours in black and white, standing strong in the face of men with a different power.
It was from you and people much like you that I learned of brotherhood. That I came to understand that brotherhood transcended gender and race, that it is far more than either of those concepts can comprehend. I hope you knew, before you fell victim to a war that may never truly end, what a gift it is to teach someone brotherhood. If not, I hope you know now, in peace and in love.
It was from you and people like you, people who sacrificed so much in the face of overwhelming odds, that I learned life's important lessons: human beings, fallible though we are, can overcome what we are and become more. No fight is over so long as someone continues to struggle against the odds. Every act, no matter how small and no matter what its method, is worthwhile. And most importantly, people--our brotherhood--are more important than national pride or profit or any worldly thing.
I saw your honor, though I didn't know it was yours at the time, in people I met. Veterans at the wall, riders in Rolling thunder, not a few Kossacks who wrote diaries that spoke to me. Many of them shared the same experiences as you did. Some suffered for their country. Some suffered in other ways. Most were wronged by the country they tried their best to serve. All of them bear similar scars.
All of them, Dave, shared your sense of honor. They told their stories, shared their pain and their struggle. They took what life had given them and rose above it, for the greater good.
They did what you did, they fought as you fought, and through their common experiences I saw the hint of you. I didn't know who you were, not then, but I knew something of you. I suspected your grief, your fear, your determination, your anger, your courage because your brothers spoke of them so eloquently.
I wish I had known you, or at least met you, even listened to you speak before it was necessary to do so through the benefits of YouTube. I wish more people in this country, myself included, had been awake to hear your message while you could still deliver it in person. I wish we had helped you accomplish more, that your passing was accompanied by the news of troop withdrawals or a big stand against Iraq in Congress.
But Dave, neither of those things would make your life and your fight a success. You did that yourself, by refusing to bow down and give up the fight.
You did that yourself, by helping to lead so many of your brothers along the road that came after the guns were packed away and Stateside life began again. You did it by inspiring so many people who never knew Vietnam in any way to fight alongside you.
Your greatest gift to this country was not some nebulous 'peace', not some 'victory' it could point to and clap its hands and have a nice little ceremony on anniversaries of the big win. Your greatest gift was your courage and conviction, your inspiration, your sacrifice. It was yourself.
Your greatest gift was yourself, and you gave it so that others would not be forced to do the same.
Thank you, Dave, for being the sort of person most people wish they could be. Thank you for putting others above yourself for so long.
Thank you for being the sort of person who shone most brightly through others and the work he did on their behalf. The reflections of your light will be seen long after we're all gone. They will shine long into the future, because your light is the sort of which this country was made.
Shine on, Dave.
Peace.
Edit: Added pictures. Also, the text of the sign is here, I put it up quickly so please pardon the crappy Word-to-Word!html formatting)