Sally Edwards (SE) and Lue Hutchinson (LH)
SE: Jack was killed very early in the air war. They were the cover for a medical mission. The helicopter lost its top rotor blade, and they didn’t make it back.
LH: Tom went to the Army, and then he did something that I thought was absolutely stupid–he learned how to jump out of perfectly good airplanes. But he loved it. It was the last day of the war. I worked in Wal-Mart, and we found out the war had ended. I was ecstatic when I went home–and came home to a driveway full of cars. Not knowing at that time, until my stepson came out, and told me Tommy was gone.
SE: Tommy’s death was in the newspaper. And I wanted somebody to talk to because it wasn’t like World War II and Vietnam when everybody had a neighbor who’d lost somebody, so, I wrote to you. I thought if you responded maybe I’d have somebody that I could talk to about how you felt and how I felt.
LH: And your letter was absolutely right on the deck. And those words, if you need help, and you want to talk, I’m here , and that’s what I needed.
SE: And so did I, or I wouldn’t have written the letter. The last 22 years would have been hell without you, Lue.
LH: It would have been hell without you, too.
SE: Because what’s in our hearts we share
LH: When you’re the mother, and your child dies in that horrific way, the memory gets tolerable, but never really really goes away.
SE: I don’t know what I would do if on a bad day I couldn’t pick up the phone and call you and share it.
LH: Neither could I.