Suburban Vietnam veterans reflect on historic '86 parade

DailyHerald: Suburban Vietnam veterans reflect on historic '86 parade


When he returned home to Antioch in 1970 after serving in the Vietnam War, Terrill “Joker” Banser went through some tough times.

He said he became an alcoholic, had two failed marriages, struggled to control his anger and was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder.


It wasn't until 16 years later, when he marched in the Welcome Home Vietnam Veterans Parade in Chicago in June 1986 — with more than 200,000 other veterans and their families — that his life started to turn around.

“I started my own personal healing after that parade. I was proud of being a Vietnam vet, finally,” said Banser, who now lives in Lake Geneva, Wis. “It was a turning point for me ... and I think it was a turning point for the country.”

Other suburban veterans agree, saying even though the parade came more than a decade late, it helped heal their emotional wounds, shift the public's perception about Vietnam War veterans, and convey the importance of welcoming soldiers home with the honor, respect and gratitude they deserve.

This weekend, the 25-year anniversary of that historic parade will be celebrated in Chicago at Welcome Home 2011. There will be presentations, concerts, military unit reunions, art and photo exhibits, and a display of the Vietnam Moving Wall, which contains the names of the more than 58,000 American soldiers killed in the controversial war.

Most events are free and open to the public. For a full schedule, see serviceandhonor.org.

Naperville Vietnam War veteran Jack Schiffler, who helped organize both the 1986 parade and this weekend's celebration, said there will be a symbolic “passing of the flag” ceremony at 9 a.m. Saturday at Navy Pier to show that it's now up to a new generation of veterans to carry forward the message. The specially made flag will have “Vietnam War” written on the top, an American flag in the middle, and “Global War on Terror” on the bottom.

“We are still behind these servicemen and women 150 percent. And we cannot let the (mistreatment) that happened in the 1960s and '70s happen again,” said Schiffler, who was spat on and called “a drugged-up baby killer” when he returned home from the war, even by the leader of his own church.

Welcome Home 2011 still needs financial support, Schiffler said. Donations can be made at the website.

Then and now
When Steve Aoyagi's son returns home to unincorporated Cook County near Des Plaines next month after his service in Afghanistan, he'll be greeted by flag-waving supporters, balloons, television cameras and a huge barbecue with his family and friends.

It's in stark contrast to the way Aoyagi and many other Vietnam War veterans were welcomed home in the late 1960s and early 1970s.

When Banser came home to Antioch after the war, there was no fanfare. He hugged his family members, took off his uniform and hung it in the closet, and went on with his life.

“I was proud of my uniform. But you just had to hide it,” he said.

That feeling of being unappreciated and, in some cases, discriminated against sticks with many Vietnam veterans, including Banser, which is why so many of them make it a point to attend as many soldiers' welcome home celebrations, funerals and veterans fundraising events as they can.

“The vets that come back greatly appreciated it,” said Banser, who participates in such events with members of the Vietnam Veterans Motorcycle Club. “We love 'em all. We've got their back. I'll never turn my back on them. Never.”

The support is important to soldiers, said Vietnam veteran Patrick Green of Carpentersville.

“It helps them recover. And it means an awful lot,” said Green, who was ignored by most people when he came home from Vietnam in 1968 and was turned down for a factory job because of his Vietnam service.

Many Vietnam veterans prefer not to talk about their war experience. For many years, the only time Banser talked about it was at Ralph's, an Antioch bar patronized mostly by Vietnam vets in the 1970s.

“They're like your brothers. They understand like no one else can,” he said.

In the early 1980s, Green bumped into a soldier he fought with during the war, and they spent 30 minutes going down memory lane.

“All of a sudden, we just clammed up and we couldn't speak about it anymore. And we never saw each other again,” he said. “It's hard to talk about.”

Even if they prefer to leave the past in the past, many vets say they are now proud of their service to their country. When Banser wears his “Vietnam Veterans MC” vest, covered with war patches and pins, polite strangers often come up to him and thank him.

“It's so different now than it was back then,” he said.

Banser's brother-in-law and best friend, Vietnam veteran Wally Henning of Antioch, believes it's harder for the soldiers coming home from Iraq and Afghanistan than it was for them.

“At least when we came home we could get a job. A cup of coffee wasn't $4. Some of these men and ladies are losing their homes,” said Henning, an inspector with the village of Antioch who initially resisted being interviewed because he thought other vets were more deserving of the attention. “The VA can do more. You may not have external injuries, but it affects you to be in a war. Any war.”

Memories of '86
In 1986, as thousands of veterans from all over the U.S. marched down LaSalle Street in Chicago through ticker tape and cheering crowds, Stanley Herzog of Geneva remembers taking it all in from the window of his ninth-floor office building.

Herzog, now president of Geneva's Vietnam Veterans of America chapter, said he wasn't able to participate because he had just started a new job and didn't want to risk losing it.

Green chose not to go but remembers watching soldiers get thank you hugs and handshakes on TV.

“I was thinking, ‘It's about time,'” he said.

Henning described the parade as one of the highlights of his life — filled with camaraderie and emotions — and recalls seeing the war's military leader, Gen. William Westmoreland.

“Not only did we salute him, but he saluted us,” he said. “I just remember people all over the place. There were a lot of tears, a lot of crying, a lot of hugging. A lot of stuff in our lives we sort of bury ... and a lot of this was brought out that day and there was a cleansing.”