Larry's Letter #2: Meet the Smiths and the BUGS.

April 4th, 1967

Watch the Video! Straight from Basic Training in Fort Rucker, Alabama.

This is us, the Smiths. The ones Larry wrote his letter to. Did you listen to it? Just hit PLAY above!

Larry was the oldest, about fourteen years older than me. I was the baby of the group that came along much later in the family, by surprise. Larry and I were the bookends among four siblings, with Joanne and Peggy in the middle. Because of the age gap, I looked up to them all like parental figures. But Mama - she was in charge of all of us!

My mama was Bernice Mae Herring. Born and raised in Washington, D.C., mostly with a revolving door of hired 'Nannys' looking after her as she helped raise her own younger siblings. My Daddy was Kenneth Vestal Smith. He worked hard on the farm, in the fields, growing up in rural North Carolina. He joined the Navy around nineteen or so.

By an odd twist of fate, Ken met Bernice when she was dropped off for an extended stay at his Grandparents' house at a young age. She was a smart, independent girl with strong opinions and a fancy way with words. He was a sweet southern boy through and through with a giant, close-knit family and a love for nature, animals, music, and anything with an engine.

They were opposites, our parents - but they worked.

As for the men in our house, Daddy and Larry spent many hours working on cars in the garage attached to our front room...especially on the Plymouth Wagon we lovingly referred to as the 'Hunk of Junk.' As you'll see in Larry's letters to come, his connection with my father usually revolved around mechanics or women - but I know there was something deeper there.

Mama preferred to be indoors with a book or visiting museums. She only liked music when it was turned way down, she once admitted to me, but her strongest feelings were quite obvious while my brother waited to be shipped off to Vietnam - and of course, the mere thought of him fighting a war. She had a fear of creepy, crawling things (which I inherited) so this particular letter may not have been well received. Do you sense any unintentional foreshadowing by my big brother?

Little did we know - the bugs and heat of Alabama were nothing compared to what Larry would face in the jungle.

I leave you with the question that rolled around in my head obsessively as a young girl with a brother far away - how many days do you think it will be before Larry sends his next letter?

Stay tuned, it's not long.