am 60 years old and remember Bobby as clearly as if we had just bumped into each other when we were about 16. We used to swim together but not very seriously; just kind of goofing off. He came from a large family and everyone liked him. He had the most natural and easy smile. When he came to dinner he was polite to a fault toward my parents. Time passed. I entered the navy and we lost touch with each other. I was home on a leave and heard that he had stepped on a mine and, in an instant, was gone. Talk about the feeling that someone had just pushed a dagger through you. It simply seemed like a mistake; someone so full of life and loving it so much and so naturally couldn't be gone. But he was. Alot has happened in my life since then but I always think about him. And it's not when something related to the Wall in DC or to VietNam comes into the news. No, I always think about when I look at my 18 year old daughter or someone else Bobby's age when we were teens. That's exactly how I remember him. I can only hope his passing was quick as a flash so that he left this early loving life as fully as he did so that he didn't have time to think about death. I don't think I've ever stopped grieving about him; he's a part of me, a part of my life, my adolescence. At times I'm saddened that I couldn't have taken his place; that he deserved life more than I have. Can't answer this question. I'm not God. I'm blessed and graced to have known him and, again, his memory grows sharper and clearer as the years pass. Rest in peace, Bobby.