WASHINGTON (7News) — When you step inside an unassuming warehouse in Hyattsville, Maryland, you’re reminded that extraordinary items are sometimes found in unremarkable places.
“We’re always finding new and interesting things,” said National Park Service Museum technician Janet Donlin.
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The National Park Service National Capital Region Museum Resource Center houses millions of treasured artifacts from America’s past.
Writings, records and artwork from National Park Service sites in the D.C. region, like Ford’s Theater and the Frederick Douglas estate, are carefully preserved and stored here when not on display.
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“These objects all tell a story and it’s a very powerful experience to work with these objects,” National Park Service Park Curator Laura Anderson said.
The bulk of this cavernous depository of history was actually amassed by you as a thank you.
“So everything in these boxes has been left at The Wall,” Donlin said.
This place is not open to the public.
“We call it the floor. Its artifact storage and the blue boxes that you see in front of you are where we store the Vietnam collection,” said Donlin.
Rows and rows of towering stacks soar nearly to the ceiling here. For more than 30 years, curators and technicians like Janet Donlin have been meticulously cataloging the hundreds of thousands of items left behind by those visiting the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in nearby Washington.
There are tributes, reminders and keepsakes that catapult you back to that tumultuous time. One veteran left his daily countdown calendar.
Another donated the POW flag he received upon returning stateside.
“He made the cross out of his toothpaste tube and he tied it together with his uniform while he was a prisoner of war,” Donlin said.
There are hellos to heroes and unintended goodbyes to sons.
“A generic happy birthday card but she received it back in the mail verified deceased return to sender, ” Donlin said.
Only a day after Air Force Maj. Leonard Niski’s mother sent her son this birthday card in 1967. Niski was killed in action. She kept that card for more than 25 years before it was placed at The Wall.
Park Rangers have been picking up and keeping items placed at The Wall since 1984.
Their routine is like clockwork. At nightfall, they pick up the pictures and packages left behind. From D.C., these items are taken to the warehouse where they are placed in a box to be catalogued one day.
To give you a sense of the size and scope of this collection, curators and technicians have catalogued around 500 boxes. They still have another 1,000 boxes to look through.
“A lot of what’s in the collection is what we call documentary artifacts,”Donlin said,
Like poems, pictures and letters.
This massive stockpile of offerings varies from the routine to the remarkable.
“It’s one of a kind,” said Donlin as she lifts a white covering off of an old motorcycle with a timeless story. “We call it the hero bike. It’s the largest, the heaviest and most significant piece that we have in our collection.”
The hero bike honors the 37 men from Wisconsin listed as either prisoners of war or missing in action.
“This motorcycle was left at The Wall in 1995 by this group of veterans. They were part of Rolling Thunder,” said Donlin.
That year, those veterans rolled 900 miles from Wisconsin to The Wall, pulling a trailer loaded with that handcrafted chopper. They left that bike at The Wall to be consumed by history as a symbol of devotion to men left behind.
A cluster of dog tags is attached to the front of the hog. Each man is represented by one of those dog tags.
The inscription of the seat reads ‘Bring ‘em home or send us back.’ This motorcycle has never been ridden. It can’t be until all 37 men come home.
There are few places in the American landscape as revered as the Vietnam Veterans Memorial.
The Wall, simple in its power, is not political. It doesn’t need to be.
“It symbolizes sacrifice,” said Janet Sileo.
Her uncle Jerry Elliott was killed during the Vietnam War.
Hiding behind a sloping hillside, this black granite monument, gleaming like a mirror, pays tribute to the more than 58,000 lives lost in a conflict that still haunts a nation.
Every year, millions gaze upon the cherished, chiseled names of the fallen.
The Vietnam Veterans Memorial Fund (VVMF) is the nonprofit organization that built the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C.
“It brings you closer to your lost loved ones,” said Rick Prine.
His brother, Rob Prine, perished during the war.
Here we reflect on a sorrowful past and, for some, what is a still painful present.
It’s become a tradition for Ed Holterman to return to a certain spot at The Wall every Memorial Day Weekend. For nearly 50 years, Holterman could not bear to be here, to walk the cobblestone path, to face an old friend he believes he disappointed so long ago.
“I knew these guys. The one guy saved my life and he’s here,” Holterman said.
Holterman said during the war, he had too much to drink one night and couldn’t work the next morning. The man who replaced him on that mission was killed.
“I wanted to say I was sorry. For all these years, I’ve had a lot of guilt, a lot of anger and general disgust with myself and everything that happened,” said Holterman.
Holterman recently left his original Vietnam Veterans ball cap at The Wall for that comrade to dull a pain that will never fully recede.
Other, more unique items find their way here and then to The Warehouse so parents can share with the world a part of their soldier’s story, far removed from the blood-soaked battlefields of Vietnam.
As technician Janet Donlin walks over a heavy carrying case to a display table, she said, “So I cataloged this recently after discovering it in a box. I thought it was odd because of how heavy the box was so of course I had to look into it and see what was inside of it.”
Roller skates. Not just any pair from anybody.
“Terry Lee Moore, Vietnam Veteran killed in action May 6, 1968,” Donlin said.
Moore won nearly 100 trophies and medals in competitive skating before leaving the carefree world of the rink for the jungles of Southeast Asia.
“You can look on The Wall and see a name but you don’t really know about the person until you see his story. It’s kind of like piecing together a puzzle,” Donlin said.
This wondrous gathering of memory also sits beside profound sadness. These shelves hold so many reminders of soldiers who can no longer speak for themselves.
We found one small item, hidden from the public for a generation, which tells a young pilot’s story in his own words.
“So this is a 1/4 inch magnetic reel. It actually contains vocal recordings from a person who served in Vietnam. This was made by Robert Prine,” Donlin said.
“Well hello. How is every little thing on the home front? I am in Bravo troop, 1st of the 9th cavalry,” said Prine in the recording.
“Well, hello. How is every little thing on the home front? And I’m presently An Khe, Vietnam,” said Prine in the recording.
Rob Prine grew up in Daytona Beach, Florida.
His younger brother, Rick, said life with Rob, the oldest brother, was never dull.
“It was a crazy household. There were six siblings. My mother was on her own as she had been divorced,” said Rick Prine.
Rick said Rob willingly took on the role of surrogate father, and when war called, Rob volunteered. Before shipping off to Southeast Asia, Rick Prine made a promise to his sweetheart, Sandy Yager. They decided to get married when Rob returned home.
“Well I heard from my brother Rob that ‘hey, when I get back Sandy and I are going to get married and we’re going to have kids, lots of kids,’” Rick said.
Rob Prine’s connection to family ran deep. He corresponded with loved ones every chance he could while heading into harm’s way. In fact, Rick showed us a number of original postcards that Rob had sent him from abroad while heading to Vietnam.
What Rob shipped stateside next is now a part of our nation’s history.
Donlin holds up a small, flat, square container and said “And he sent it to a Ms. Sandra Yager in Atlanta, Georgia. We actually had this recently digitized so I was probably the first person to listen to this recording since it was left at The Wall in 1989.”
Prine made reel-to-reel tape recordings.
“Well hello, you all. I figured I would send you some words here,” said Rob Prine on the recording.
It’s late January 1968. Prine is based out of Ah Khe, the largest helicopter base in the world at the time. Ah Khe also served as a critical transportation and tactical hub for U.S. military operations.
Rob said in a recording, “I’ll go forward Monday, I believe. Either Monday or Tuesday and that’s to our area of operation and that’s where I guess we start the war.” In the background of this particular recording, you can clearly hearing helicopters landing or taking off.
This recording would be the last time his family and his fiancée would hear Rob’s voice. On only his 20th day in Vietnam, this 21-year-old crashed the helicopter he was piloting in foul weather.
“In the process of trying to turn around he hit the mountain and that was it. I went ballistic. I could not control myself because he meant so much to me and the rest of the family and he was gone,” Rob’s brother Rick said.
For years, Rick dreamed of a scenario never to be: that his resourceful brother had somehow survived.
“Of course that didn’t happen but you always want to hope to see your brother again because he was special,” Rick said.
The tapes arrived stateside soon after Rob’s death.
“It was devastating to have to listen to him alive when we knew he was dead,” Rick, while fighting back tears, said.
He added that Rob’s loss was especially difficult for the woman he wanted to marry.
“They loved each other tremendously. I was devastated, but Sandy was doubly devastated by his loss because they loved each other so much,” said Rick.
In one of Rob Prine’s final recordings, he said to Sandy, “Take care of yourself. And I really can’t think of all that much to tell you except I’m doing fine. Pretty good life here I guess. Pretty good start anyway.”
The Prine family made sure Rob would live on in others. Rick named his son after his brother. His sister Mary did the same. When Sandy Yager married she also had a son. That young man, during an 8th-grade field trip to Washington, D.C. in 1989, placed those recordings at The Wall so Rob Prine’s story of devotion to family and to country could live on forever.
“Be good, Sandy. I miss you. Bye-bye,” said Rob.
Three days before Rob Prine arrived in Vietnam, the infamous Battle of Khe Sanh erupted to the north. This engagement would prove to be among the longest and bloodiest of the war.
In the first hours of this ferocious siege, 19-year-old Private Jerry Elliott with the 282nd Assault Helicopter Company volunteered for a dangerous rescue mission.
According to first-hand accounts, helicopters headed to a barren mountaintop in search of the wounded. Upon arrival, enemy fire hit the lead chopper, which erupted in flames and crashed. Survivors said Elliott hit the ground to aid crash survivors but was soon surrounded. That’s the last time Jerry Elliott of Greenville, Mississippi, was seen alive.
“The helicopters who had landed to help with the rescue mission pulled away and left men on the ground, one being my uncle,” said Janet Sileo, Elliott’s niece.
Sileo said when helicopters circled back several minutes later, her uncle had vanished.
“And everyone was gone. There was no one. The casualties were on the ground. Everyone disappeared. No one knew where they were. Where did they go?” said Sileo.
Sileo, who lives in nearby Reston, comes to The Wall often to pay homage to a man who meant so much to her family.
“This is an uncle I have never met but I absolutely love and adore. His sacrifice for me, the freedoms I’m able to experience because his name is on The Wall. It’s not just a name. It’s a person. Someone who people love and the fact that this is all we have of him. This is it,” Sileo said.
Jerry Elliott’s remains were never found. But something else, something remarkable, did eventually come home thanks to a sister who refuses to give up on her brother.
If there’s an item at the warehouse that symbolizes the unfailing commitment to MIAs, it may be this one.
Technician Janet Donlin carefully opened up an old, small pine box and said, “This is a part of a helicopter blade.”
And not just any rotor blade.
“This is a piece of history directly from the site, from the era. This can’t be replaced,” said Donlin.
The spellbinding story behind this blade is one for the ages.
Thirty-one years after Jerry Elliott disappeared on that hilltop near Khe Sanh, his sister Donna arrived in country with a team of experts in search of anything connected to her lost hero.
While interviewing people in the village, task force members discovered that a farmer, years ago, had salvaged parts from the very helicopter that crashed moments before Jerry Elliott disappeared.
Donlin said, “They found some local Vietnamese who knew of what happened at the time. They told the crew about this guy who was using a helicopter blade that he found as a fence post in his cow pen.”
Task force members bartered for that rotor blade and brought it home. On Memorial Day 2000, Donna Elliott and the surviving members of that fateful rescue mission came to Washington. They placed the rotor blade in a pine box that was draped in an American flag. And they left it at The Wall so that the only link to a life lost was assured a place in history.
Jerry’s sister Donna tells ABC7 News that in the summer of 2016, the crash site at Khe Sanh was excavated. She said additional helicopter debris was discovered. Jerry Elliott’s remains were not found. Donna Elliott tells us she vows to never give up the search for her brother.
There is a reality of war that most combat veterans cannot escape. The repercussions of battle often result in invisible scars that embed in the bones of soldiers.
For Aircraft Commander Walter McNees and Door Gunner Ralph Tutrani, their recent and historic trip to The Wall reminds us that with a bit of luck and a lot of faith, you can begin to heal wounds deep and wide by honoring your fallen brothers in arms.
“This project has helped me so much with maybe just coming to grips with it,” said Carol Hewitt.
Her brother, Gary Dubach, was killed in Vietnam.
This project, so improbable, began nearly 50 years ago with a call for help during the war near the town of Tay Ninh, 100 kilometers northwest of old Saigon.
A Huey and its crew came under heavy fire while trying to save fellow soldiers.
“It has a serial number 174, and it was shot down on Valentine’s Day in 1969. It was a medivac unit, and it was going in for a rescue. There were five on board. There was a pilot, a co-pilot, crew chief, door gunner. It was leaking hydraulic fluid, low on fuel, so it had to make a crash landing in a hot zone.”
After the helicopter landed at an angle, Crew Chief Gary Dubach and Stephen Schumacher jumped out to set up a perimeter, only to be hit and killed by the rotor blade.
“A lot of families were destroyed when these guys were killed,” said McNees.
Those families and those survivors have struggled in the decades to follow.
“I have PTSD very bad and this mission was probably at the top of the list for causing that,” McNees said.
Out of that darkness emerged an unlikely light. A man connected in no way to that mission recently made an astounding discovery in a remote helicopter boneyard.
“So we found this in Show Low, Arizona, which is in the White Mountains of Northeast Arizona,” said Dave Barron.
Retired Army Sgt. Dave Barron runs a non-profit that supports combat veterans grappling with PTSD.
Light Horse Legacy is a benevolent educational organization designed to promote treatment and healing of Post Traumatic Stress suffered by all U.S. combat veterans.
A couple of years ago, Barron searched randomly for a battle-tested helicopter to restore. His idea was to rebuild a Vietnam-era Huey in a way that helps combat veterans talk about the silent fight burning inside them.
Barron determined after months of research that the old helicopter he found in that remote Arizona helicopter boneyard was the very Huey that crashed in Tay Ninh back in ‘69. And not only that, he found the relatives of crash victims Gary Dubach and Stephen Schumacher.
“I never would have thought I would have seen it again or seen it at all because it got shot down. I figured it would be in Vietnam,” said Dubach’s sister Carol Hewitt.
And then Barron, with the help of veterans’ organizations, tracked down crew members like Ralph Tutrani.
“I got off the phone, and I turned to my wife, and I said, ’ You’re not going to believe this. You’re not going to believe what I just got off the phone and listened to,’” said Tutrani.
Then, renowned artist Steve Maloney went to work, transforming that air ambulance into a spectacular 47-foot-long sculpture designed to inspire dialogue and healing. The piece, called “Take Me Home Huey”, now tours the country and will be featured in the New York City Veterans Day event on Nov. 11. The sculpture then heads to exhibits on the West Coast.
Take Me Home Huey is a partnership between Steve Maloney and Light Horse Legacy.
During Memorial Day weekend, victims’ relatives and surviving crew members gathered at The National Museum of the Marine Corps in Virginia, where the sculpture was on display.
There would be one last mission on this day to close a significant circle.
“Maybe this project will say, you’re home now. You can let go,” Tutrani said,
An original section of the Huey’s door panel was removed so it could be left at The Wall. McNees and Tutrani, along with relatives of the victims of that crash, walked to the spot where the names of Gary Dubach and Stephen Schumacher are inscribed on The Wall.
During a short ceremony, McNees and Tutrani presented a part of that Huey to the sisters of the fallen.
Walter McNees said, “This is the panel of the aircraft that has been restored, and we would like to give it to you ladies in honor and remembrance of Gary and Stephen and we’d like to go ahead and give this to you now.”
And as Laura Anderson with the National Park Service walked away with that special section of that old Huey in her hands, to place in the country’s archive, we are reminded of this memorial’s timeless power.
Maybe in a way, The Wall is a reflection of ourselves: all we’ve seen, all we’ve learned in one nation’s collective effort to better honor and to better treat the men and women who serve, fight and die for our freedom.
The Collection: An Unprecedented Phenomenon
Due to the sheer volume of items, the National Park Service cannot keep every item left behind at The Wall. For that and other reasons, the agency in early November 2016 updated its Scope of Collection Statement. It spells out in detail how items will be collected and cared for.
This statement said many things about the historical importance of this collection and the unprecedented nature of visitors leaving behind so many items that speak to the healing power of The Wall.
Moving forward, the Vietnam Veterans Memorial cultural collection will generally keep “Items with a discernible connection to service in the Vietnam War.” The statement adds that items not added to the collection will include offerings left by school groups, perishable items, mass-produced items, and objects tied to wars or movements not associated with the Vietnam War.
Currently, the National Park Service has objects on exhibit at the Smithsonian National Museum of American History and the Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport. In the last year, various items have been shown at the LBJ Presidential Library in Texas, the Reagan Presidential Library in California and the Veterans Administration building in DC. The New York Historical Society, the Bard Graduate Center in NYC, the Pentagon and the Washington State Historical Society are scheduled to receive objects on loan in the future.
The Resource Center, where objects and offerings are presently housed, is off limits to the public, but there’s great news for people interested in seeing items left behind at The Wall.
The same group that built The Wall, the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Fund, is also raising money to build an education center that will house and display thousands of items placed at The Wall.
The Education Center at The Wall will be located on the National Mall, across the street from the Vietnam Veterans Memorial and the Lincoln Memorial.
Once fundraising is complete, the education center will be built on a patch of land across the street from The Wall near the Lincoln Memorial.
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