The story behind the letters
When these letters arrived, my dad was going through a painful recovery at Chelsea Naval Hospital. He had nearly died several times, lost a great deal of weight, and was withdrawing from people. He was struggling to eat and often didn’t want to talk.
Into that part of his life came letters from a classroom of children in Gloucester. They shared their everyday lives, wished him well, and offered their friendship.
Dad didn’t talk much about what the letters meant to him, but he would revisit them from time to time. Through everything that followed, he held on to them like gold. That’s how I know they mattered.
What your letters meant to his son
I remember seeing these letters once as a young boy, probably about the same age as the children who wrote them.
Vietnam was something we couldn’t really talk about at home. I could see what the war had done to my dad, but I didn’t know what to do with my anger and confusion about what had happened to him. It was hard to understand how so much could have happened to him and so little could be said about it.
Reading your letters brought me comfort. Here were children about my age calling him a friend and wishing him well. Their words showed me that people outside our family had noticed and cared about my dad.
I couldn’t have explained all of that then, but I never forgot how it felt. I think their kindness helped soften some of the anger I carried and left a little more room for kindness of my own.
If you wrote one of these letters, I want you to know that years after you sent it, your words brought comfort to his son, too.
Small gestures like these matter. They can help a veteran’s child feel that their family’s sacrifices are recognized and that their parent is cared about. A few handwritten words can stay with a family for a very long time.
Dave Jacobson
Russell’s son























