![]() ![]() When I first read the newspaper article I cried and ran outdoors and wrote my first story ” The Boy in the Raspberry Patch”. I clipped the newspaper article and kept it in my desk drawer in my bedroom for many years. In 1969, I saw in the newspaper that John had been shot down in his helicopter over Vietnam. ![]() I wish he could have seen me when I grew up and wasn’t quite so skinny. John didn’t pay any attention to that skinny little 14-year-old. When I’d get on the old school bus that transported the berry pickers from Cascade Locks to Corbett, I’d be covered with in ripe, juicy berries. He was kind of tall and gangly and at the same time rather nice looking. The reason I knew it John Hansen, is that people said that is who he was. He may have been on leave before going to flight training to become a helicopter pilot. It was 1967 and he was wearing “Battle Fatigues”. He was my field boss one summer when we were kids picking raspberries and he would play his guitar. I was just a skinny 14-year-old girl wearing pig-tails and had a big nose as my face was pretty thin. For those who look at the “Wall”, John Hansen is just a name among 58,000+.
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