Steven Wightman

I am saddened to hear the news of this talented friend's death. I grew up with Robin and shared many loving days with him and his family on Derby St, the McNamara home in West Newton.

Then and now: As teenagers, we loved cars, friends, outdoor activities and especially parties. The McNamara family threw a surprise 16th birthday party for me in February of 1963. It brought me to tears of joy. The love of this family was amazing. Robin always liked being in the limelight. In our junoir and senoir years, I saw less of him, but not of his family, including his younger brother and friend Kevin. We had lots of fun together - all of us.

After high school graduation, Robin's career on one hand, and the war with Vietnam on the other, pulled Kevin and I to military service and far away from the family we both loved. That love was palpable on Christmas reunions decades later  when I saw Robin over the years. He cared about people, but most of all, his family. Love, his and theirs, is the greatest I've ever known - fueling my will to live, and that love will never die. I will miss him as a brother.  Robin flew on a wild horse, touched the sky and all the people he knew.                                                           

RIDE A WILD HORSE, by Hannah Kahn 

Ride a wild horse with purple wings striped yellow and black except his head which must be red. Ride a wild horse against the sky — hold tight to his wings before you die whatever else you leave undone once ride a wild horse into the sun.

Happy birthday Drew. Yours is 21 days before mine. At least February is good for at least two celebrations now. With all this snow, I think I'll break out my X-country skis. Have a wonderful day!

A Lasting Tribute to Skippy; Walter “Skip” O’Neil lived in my West Newton neighborhood. Often, we’d meet at his house incidentally to going or coming from NHS. He’d smile and greet me from his River Street yard or porch. I didn’t know Skip well, but I grew to like and respect him. He was at all times friendly, courteous and perceptive. He was a model of a young American man. The kind of young man any parent, brother, sister or friend would be very proud of. Fifty years later, I mentioned his name and loss to Newton Mayor Ruthanne Fuller while I was training for the Boston Marathon Military Relay Race April of this year. See https://patch.com/massachusetts/newton/why-2-military-vets-will-run-only-newtons-stretch-boston-race. On Marathon Day in all that misery of the worst weather day of the Boston Marathon in 100 years I couldn’t help but think so many Newton veterans and especially Skippy. Had he lived, I think he would have either ran as my teammate or at least cheered me on over the Newton Hills and through the frigid-sheet rains blowing hard out of Boston. Truth be told, he was with me – in spirit – every step of the way because even when my 71-year-old body didn’t want to take another step his smile carried me to the finish. Skip’s military service and his death was emblematic of chaotic times where millions of us firmly believed we were serving the best interests of our nation; protecting our values of truth, justice and freedoms around the world even if it may cost us our lives. In my view then the United States Government could do no wrong. Yet the Pentagon Papers told a very different story: From the Whitehouse across to Capital Hill our leadership knew they were signing death warrants for a war they had already concluded could never be won. The American people and especially our American soldiers, sailors, airmen and women and Coast Guard had been betrayed. In effect our service and our lives if necessary were on the line not for values we and most Americans cherished, but in fact we were used as pons to get incumbents reelected. By mid-1968, MLK and RFK had joined millions of Americans in strongly opposing the War in Vietnam. Speaking truth to power they too became casualties of factions fueling hate and violence. A torch of hope, love and understanding was snuffed out and our nation would never be the same. At the Vietnam War Memorial, my tears weren’t just for Skip. I share this as a classmate not to lament but to reflect with you on how we got to such a horrible place and what we can do about it today beyond holding onto a photo and a memory or saying, “thank you for your service”. Like an artist, each of us can draw our own picture of what Skippy’s life means to us. For this American man it means that he should not die in vain. His life and death means something powerful to me and I don’t think I’m alone. That is that some mix of stupidity, ignorance and greed as a nation got us into the War in Vietnam and kept us there for over a decade. Sound familiar? Well here we are once again today. In 1968 Nixon won by a landslide like what our current Chief now claims. How would our nation and likely our fate be different IF closer to 100% instead of the scant 35% of Americans voted in the last national election – and in practice – all elections? So, my question to myself is how can I be a better person, a better American, a better citizen of planet Earth? I often wrestle with this, but I know the least I can do to honor Skip and 58,000 or so who paid the ultimate price is to always know my candidates and like the day I signed my army enlistment contract in 1966, make a hard choice seeking a better world; always putting the interests and long-term survivability of our nation and our planet ahead of my own. In the 1960’s JFK, MLK, RFK, Skip all had a gunman aim and pull the trigger. Today and as long as I’m around I feel it is my responsibility to reflect on these fifty years and strive to meet JFK’s challenge on what it means to us to be an American. I think Skip would have liked that.

Since Elementary school, Mark and me were friends. We put on our first baseball caps together and cheered each other on to the next base. As the smallest, we were sometimes picked on by the biggest in our class. We dusted each other off and formed a life long bond. We kept an infrequent friendship through JH and NHS. At NHS we took shop courses where I'd see him more often. He was always respectful and upbeat. He also seemed to catch my mood with an insightful eye and a smile. Donning shorts in the gym, he and I looked like dwarfs compared to our teammates, but our strength and speed helped us get through prejudices. Although The coaches threw us the dregs for positions and opportunities, we smiled and played on. After graduation, we both put on uniforms; he a USMC and me army. I became a crew chief and repairman on fixed and rotary wing aircraft, he an infantry tunnel rat. His job, picked for his small stature, was to see were tunnels led and destroy the enemy. After our discharges, we met and talked about our own experience's. He seemed to adapt better than me to civilian life. At home, nothing was the same to me but Mark and his smile. We had both survived - narrowly. He remained my only lifelong veteran friend and I miss him this day as a brothe. RIP. Steve

Hi Phil: Mem Day in Lexington with Vets was somber. Good commaraderie and some bad singing of "America", but worth it. Puffy treated me to a homemade lobster dinner with KLP for dessert. Cool. I'll see you soon. Steve.

Posted on: Apr 30, 2015 at 9:36 PM

49.93 years is a long time to wait for a coffee get together so I can't wait for the number 50 to see you once again.

I can't wait to meet and greet classmates at our reunion 2015. I invite classmates to tune in and follow me on Twitter. I having fun with night courses on the Internet which include Social Networking and web site development and management. It's really incredible what we can do today to reach people around the world and make a difference too. OMG, how much the world has changed in just 50 years. My biggest regret is that we have lost so many and I won't have the chance to check in with them. My greatest hope is to meet and really talk with anyone who wants to talk with me. The "Vietnam" series on PBS has brought back lots of memories. Suffice it to say that I am so happy that most of us survived that long, wasteful, tragic and horrible war. We also should not forget that so many others who served all over the world (and their families at home) suffered and died without ever seeing Vietnam. Bullets and hatred are not limited by national borders. That said, congratulations on making it this far! You must be doing something right.

Posted on: Feb 13, 2015 at 9:35 PM

I'm having a blast at 40,000 feet in February 2015.

I'm the only passenger on the world's largest airplane, the C5 Galaxy enroute to Jacksonville, FL 3 Feb 2015. I'm flying facing backwards. I had to really brace myself from take off thrust at Westover AFB.