The other day I left the psycho-social clubs at the Veterans Administration Medical Center, New York Harbor, got on the bus, and headed home. My wife, Gunsel Yildirim, was attending her photography group at the International Center for Photography, so I was the chef for the night.
Tonight, I was free to use my new culinary skills in sharing with my best friend and wife my full dream. I arrived home with the miens en plais ready on my notes and got to the beginning stage.
Like most Veterans, especially those of us with painful memories of war, intrusive as they are, we feel safe and calm in our support groups at the VA Medical Centers. In my mind I revisited the United States Military Academy at West Point in 1974. I relived my fall, the serious skeletal injury and the depression that followed. I was becoming too sorry about these memories; afraid, scared, unable to focus. In the past, my only option was to return to the VA, report to the emergency room and ask for a Klonopin.
I am angry again, alone and anxious. The emergency room is boring. Former West Point cadet Edgar Allen Poe, similarly situated, abused substances. I am too afraid of cocaine. My name is Jimmy, not Poe. What to do?
Calm down, this will pass…focus. Check the voice mail. Check it. I am sure I will have a message from Gunsel, my nurturer. Her message will validate me, help me cope again. "You have one new message," great, it must be from Gunsel.
"Hey cousin, it's Vinny, we have tickets to Under the Bridge. Meet me at the Macarthur U.S.O."
Vinny, Vinny, Vinny. I raced to the bus terminal in the City; I will not be alone. I will be with cousin Vinny. I am safe with Vinny. He understands me and my runaway panic. He probably saved my life.
Here we are in the Zipper Theater for Under the Bridge. Who knows what you'll find under the bridge. The books and lyrics are by Kathie Lee Gifford. Yes, Frank and his crew were in the Zipper Theater.
This play won a Newberry Medal; it strikes all Veterans' emotions. For me, for 10,950 mornings, I wake up and look around to see if I am on the streets. I have always been safe, but for the fear.
Under the Bridge is set in Paris, with a hobo named Armand and his family who survive by living under a bridge—their bridge. Despite the added stressors imposed by the Parisian philanthropists, the Armands find joy, love, and camaraderie. They are happy and they know it. It is not necessary for this family to search like gypsies for love; they have it under this bridge.
Armand found what our veterans get at the VA Medical Center's support groups: joy, love and camaraderie. Kathie Lee Gifford's story is the story of many veterans with the "war in our heads." We want peace. War is not healthy. We were children. We did not choose war. We never seem to find peace; we learn how to cope.
After the play, Kathy Lee walked over to me, "You look like you've had a rough life. Let me give you a hug." Forget it Frank, Kathy Lee has the charm. I thought a moment. An autograph? No, not one, but three, no, four autographs.
I went over to the parents of the three child-actors in the play and said, "Can I have your autographs? Your kids struck my emotions; these kids walked into my soul. Deep."
"No one ever asks us for our autographs, we are the parents" they said.
"Your kids struggle and get the love they need. Veterans get this love after struggling in support groups at the VA. This story is my story."
As Chef Dan, at New York Food, likes to say, "We are one step away from sleeping under the West Side Highway." That has been my fear for the past 10,950 days.