I had two uncles who served in the Navy in World War II. Another flew a P-38 with the 8th Air Force out of southern Italy. Three of my friends had fathers who helped liberate Europe. Two of them swept across France and fought in the Battle of the Bulge. The other landed at Anzio and was wounded in action. All of them are gone now. I can’t imagine any of them would be especially happy with what transpired this weekend.
It sickens me to know that Hitler’s ideals are alive and well and living in the United States. It sickens me that thousands of racists, under the pretense of “protecting our history and heritage,” were chanting slogans right out of Nazi Germany (and if you are honestly upset about the removal of a General Robert E. Lee statue, and you claim you are not a racist, fine. But don’t march with the KKK, and don’t chant “Blood and soil” and don’t Sieg Heil your way through Emancipation Park). It sickens me that so many people feel so sure of their beliefs, and so comfortable in our current climate, that they will gather and march in such numbers. It sickens me that our president will not condemn them, will not call them what they are. At this point, all calls on him to do so are pointless. He’s made his statement with silence and vague words.
Heather Heyer is dead because of Nazis, because of hatred, because of racism and bigotry. She’s just the latest in a long, long line that almost certainly stretches back to near the dawn of humanity. Sadly, she won’t be the last. I don’t know how we stop it, but I know we must.