In January of 1995, nearly 30 years after he was relieved of duty, my uncle Johnny became a casualty of the Vietnam War when he suffered a massive heart attack after years of prolonged heart complications due to his exposure to Agent Orange. He was 47. He was newly married and a stepfather to three young children that he loved as his own.
Johnny Hebel (left) with a friend at an unknown location in Vietnam between 1968-1969. (Photo provided by Josephine La Pelusa)
I was 16 that winter morning when my mother came into my room, woke me, and quietly informed me that my uncle (her brother) died in his sleep a few hours ago. Being 16 (and still so much a boy), my mind almost obsessively centered around what I thought was the most exciting aspect of my uncle’s life in order to cope: his years in Vietnam, which until his death, I labeled as little more than family history.
I had great uncles who served in WWII, and my uncle Johnny, the next generation, served in Vietnam. It seemed the natural course. Until Johnny’s death, these were mere facts on the familial timeline, no different than when the Cubs scouted one of my grandfathers to be a pitcher (an opportunity he declined).
I began asking my mother numerous questions. When he served, where he was stationed, what was his rank, what in general did he do, and learned that Johnny was drafted into the Army at age 21 and served in Vietnam in 1968 and 1969. He finished his military term as Private First Class. He was in Vietnam (exact whereabouts unknown) for 18 months, and for almost all 18 months, he saw heavy combat. When he came home, he suffered shell shock (now Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) and had Jungle Rot, among other severe physical ailments.
Aside from a few stories (too graphic or personal to relate in this paper) he shared with my mother, little else was known about his time in Vietnam other than that my family presumed him Missing in Action for a period until a Red Cross representative informed them of his general location and passed word that he had been fighting deep in the jungle for months without ability to mail letters. But at least he was alive.
I was shocked to learn as much as I did about Johnny’s military service because the last thing most of us saw him as was a former soldier. To us, he was a brother, uncle, son, and a dear, dear friend who is missed more and more as the years pass.
The truth is that when Johnny came home from the war, he did what many soldiers of the era did: left as much of it behind him as he could, not because he wasn’t proud, but because…. And what he couldn’t leave behind remained locked in his chest until the day he died.
This edition of the Sun Day is our Memorial Day Edition, dedicated to not only all the men and women who lost their lives in service of this country but to the Sun City residents who, like my uncle, served with pride and honor and bravery. On the pages that follow, you will meet one of the first female Marines, a WWII fighter pilot, a Vietnam Veteran who also suffers complications from Agent Orange and who developed a product to help all people survive natural disasters, and a couple who dabbled in espionage during the Cold War, among other individuals with fascinating stories to share.
During my conversations with all these people, my mind turned over and over again to my uncle Johnny and to his service. And in light of this service and sacrifice, I would like to personally dedicate this edition of the Sun Day to him: John “Johnny” Hebel. You are still and will forever be missed.
