War Art: A Personal Journey
"dichotomy at checkpoint"
In April 2003 at a checkpoint south of Karbala a tragic set of misunderstandings occurred. This man in one fell swoop lost 11 members of his family. One of the van's occupants, a seven year old, was hospitalized and later released to help bury the dead.
It was a tragic and heartbreaking story that inspired a Conversation and led to the painting above.
When my son called home in 2003 it was a time when each call was fraught with the undeclared fear that he might be sent to Iraq. The story was all over the news, and it preyed on our minds. We wondered what the checkpoint soldiers must have felt when surveying the scene. My son asked, “how do you live with something like that.” I said, “ I don’t know. All I know is that had you been there I would have expected you to do the same, because there are no second chances”. “ Because son, if it’s a choice between the life of an Iraqi child and my son I choose you, my son, my child.”
I never dreamed I would think such a thing, let alone speak it.
I cried after that phone call, for the children, for my son, for myself.
War forces us to to compromise our humanity in ways we never imagine.
My heart goes out to all those who have have had to face this. To all our soldiers we have lost, and those that struggle with injuries of the body and mind semper fi
In April 2003 at a checkpoint south of Karbala a tragic set of misunderstandings occurred. This man in one fell swoop lost 11 members of his family. One of the van's occupants, a seven year old, was hospitalized and later released to help bury the dead.
It was a tragic and heartbreaking story that inspired a Conversation and led to the painting above.
When my son called home in 2003 it was a time when each call was fraught with the undeclared fear that he might be sent to Iraq. The story was all over the news, and it preyed on our minds. We wondered what the checkpoint soldiers must have felt when surveying the scene. My son asked, “how do you live with something like that.” I said, “ I don’t know. All I know is that had you been there I would have expected you to do the same, because there are no second chances”. “ Because son, if it’s a choice between the life of an Iraqi child and my son I choose you, my son, my child.”
I never dreamed I would think such a thing, let alone speak it.
I cried after that phone call, for the children, for my son, for myself.
War forces us to to compromise our humanity in ways we never imagine.
My heart goes out to all those who have have had to face this. To all our soldiers we have lost, and those that struggle with injuries of the body and mind semper fi
Comments
So good to be back in the land of the living,lol and good to be able to see your work