Our class lost one boy to Vietnam. Danny Brooks. Class of ’72. He was the kid who could make the principal laugh even while sitting in detention. Danny could turn …
The notebook wasn’t filled with war stories. It was filled with memories of us. Read More Our class lost one boy to Vietnam. Danny Brooks. Class of ’72. He was the kid who could make the principal laugh even while sitting in detention. Danny could turn …
Fifty years later, we finally understood why Danny wanted that chair left empty. Read More Our class lost one boy to Vietnam. Danny Brooks. Class of ’72. He was the kid who could make the principal laugh even while sitting in detention. Danny could turn …
Danny never stopped thinking about us. He just needed fifty years to get his message home. Read More Our class lost one boy to Vietnam. Danny Brooks. Class of ’72. He was the kid who could make the principal laugh even while sitting in detention. Danny could turn …
The stranger opened a notebook Danny had written in 1972. Every page contained someone’s name. Read More Our class lost one boy to Vietnam. Danny Brooks. Class of ’72. He was the kid who could make the principal laugh even while sitting in detention. Danny could turn …
Danny didn’t want us to remember him as a soldier. He wanted us to remember the kid who made everyone laugh. Read More Our class lost one boy to Vietnam. Danny Brooks. Class of ’72. He was the kid who could make the principal laugh even while sitting in detention. Danny could turn …
One chair. One white carnation. Fifty years of memories. Read More Our class lost one boy to Vietnam. Danny Brooks. Class of ’72. He was the kid who could make the principal laugh even while sitting in detention. Danny could turn …
We thought we’d lost Danny forever. Then a man arrived carrying something Danny had entrusted to him in 1973. Read More Our class lost one boy to Vietnam. Danny Brooks. Class of ’72. He was the kid who could make the principal laugh even while sitting in detention. Danny could turn …
The final line in Danny’s notebook was written for one of us. I still can’t believe he knew. Read More Our class lost one boy to Vietnam. Danny Brooks. Class of ’72. He was the kid who could make the principal laugh even while sitting in detention. Danny could turn …
Danny never made it home from Vietnam. But the message he left behind did. Read More Our class lost one boy to Vietnam. Danny Brooks. Class of ’72. He was the kid who could make the principal laugh even while sitting in detention. Danny could turn …
For fifty years, we placed a white carnation on his chair. This time, someone finally sat there. Read More