I've been thinking about posting this for a few days, since Hugh died last week:
http://www.democraticunderground.com/discuss/duboard.php?az=show_topic&forum=102&topic_id=2025972I lived in Lafayette, LA during the 90s, the city where Hugh had settled. During that stretch Hugh's story was both still unknown and then he became famous because of the "60 Minutes" piece. He was, however, known and respected and admired locally even before the big national story.
So, one day just about the time his biography came out, he and his biographer did a presentation sponsored by the local library, slide-show by the writer, book-signing by Hugh. So a friend and I decided to go. There were a few ex-hippie-types (me, for one), a few ex-military-types (not neccessarily mutually exclusive categories), and a bunch of blue-haired old ladies, you know, the kind who go to obscure library signings by obscure local celebrities.
Anyway, at around starting time as the local blue-hairs and a few of us ex-hippies and Vietnam Vets milled around, they set up the film screen and said "Okay, let's get started!" So I turned to my friend and said, "Oh, crap, honey, I better go smoke a cigarette right now so I'll be set for the whole show."
So I stepped out into the alley to find one other person who had the same idea I had: Hugh Thompson was there smoking a cigarrette. So I lit up and joked with him about the missing his own presentation. "Nah," he shot back with a broad smile, I'm not missing anything--I know how the story ends." So I laughed and we chatted for a bit. Then I got to be late getting back to my seat and I realized, "Huh? I can go inside for an hour and listen to some guy talk about Hugh Thompson, or I can talk to Hugh for an hour? No contest." So I lit another ciggie and asked, "So what am I missing?"
So he summarized the story and then we just talked about it. He was a great and good man, charismatic and gentle of bearing, patients ... and strong. Since he literally had nothing else to do, he just told me the story of My Lai for forty-five minutes. Before it was about time for Hugh to go in and do his little five-minute conclusion, I asked him this question:
What part of the story do you never tell the old ladies in the library?Oddly enough the answer he gave me is referenced in his New York Times obit:
http://www.nytimes.com/2006/01/07/national/07thompson.html"Mr. Thompson radioed for a helicopter gunship to evacuate the group, and then his crew chief, Glenn Andreotta,
pulled a boy from a nearby irrigation ditch, and their helicopter flew him to safety.} (emphasis added)
But that's not what happened, or, only what happened. How that boy got out of the ditch was so stomach-turningly gruesome that I perfectly understood why he never told the story public. In fact, my memories of the story of My Lai which had always been domiated by the famous photos, is now dominated by those words from the lips of Hugh Thompson that night in that alley smoking cigarettes.
He deserves a monument on the Mall.