Field Trip

The Bridled with Joy staff has made its way to Burlington, Vermont for the weekend. It's a really special occasion that I am honored to be a part of. Jeff's dad Steve Ellis was a member of the crew of the U.S.S. Pueblo, a navy ship that was hijacked by the North Koreans in 1968. Eleven months later the surviving crew was released. This weekend is the 40th reunion for the survivors. There is a schedule of events that include some heady memorial services as well as a tour of the Ben and Jerry's ice cream factory.

Jeff's dad has expressed ambivalence about attending all the events-- he likes his space and appears to like a little distance from the large group of veterans who are steeped in memories of its time on the Pueblo. And from our dinner last night where we got to meet and greet his fellow "swab jockeys," it looks like being a Pueblo survivor is a full-time identity for some of these men. We sat with a lovely man and his bride of 41 years: Charlie and Marlene. Charlie told us lots of stories about his post-Pueblo time as a federal prison warden, which, as you can imagine, were very colorful. Honestly, however, I just wanted to ask him and Jeff's dad questions about the psychic marks that their capture left on them. Jeff said it best: the trauma of the ordeal is the proverbial elephant in the room.

And, it's SO hard for me to keep conversation on a superficial level. I want to talk about the elephant in the room. I want to ask them if they saw and heard John McCain's speech at the RNC. I want to know if they have been back to Asia. I was dying to ask Charlie and Jeff's dad if they had any therapy to help them make sense of both what happened in North Korea, as well as how to process how our government and nation treated them when they were released. Since we landed in Vermont, Jeff's stepmom Celia and I have been laughing at how similar Jeff and his dad are in that they both really like control. (As if I don't!) Last night at the dinner table, Jeff's dad said that he was eating cherries jubiliee on the ship when the North Koreans attacked (it was lunch time) and explained that when captured, he was blind folded and forced to disembark with the other crew members. He recalled that they were told by their captors not to talk, and when some crew member said something, he was beaten severely. Let's see: 11 months in a foreign country, where you don't know the language or the culture, and you have no idea when or if you can ever go home. Of course you want control of your environment for the rest of your life. Makes me think I need to get a better excuse myself!

Jeff just showed me our commemorative t-shirts. It has the ship's logo on it, which is a picture of the ship as well as the unofficial mascot: "the lonely bull." Lonely bull indeed. The image of the lonely bull is so apropos. That's exactly the feeling I get when I watch these older men walk through a bar-b-que buffet and I imagine them alluding to food in the navy or food in a North Korean prison. It looks lonely to hold it all in and make small talk.

More about me: Candidly, I am thrilled to have something totally outside of the wedding to focus on right now. This is an extraordinary event that really puts everyday stresses in a whole new light.