THE WALL OF FACES

I am Raven W. Ayers. I only know Dave through cards, picture books and newspaper clippings. I follow in his athletic passion and grew up to be a P.E. teacher! David W. Ayers thank you!

David Ayers was my uncle - after his death, at his instruction, Linda Ayers cut off contact with his (my) family. I have just today stumbled upon this remembrance page for him, and it shames me that I am the first of his family to visit it. David is an enigma to me, as most of my memories are of an uncle who loved to take his young niece and nephew to the park, or babysit so my parents could go on dates, or of David the war hero. I would love to learn more of David the man - what were his dreams, his passions? Did he know he was having another child? Why did he volunteer himself for the mission that killed him?

I’d also like to find my cousins - I haven’t seen Raven since we were children. I have another cousin that I just learned about today, by reading the memorials posted here. I would love to hug my Aunt Linda and tell her she did the right thing, that David would be proud of her, of her inner strength.

Mostly, I’d just like to get to know my uncle. He was an exceptional man, that I know. But what made him exceptional? I knew him only as a niece, and he died when I was only ten. He was so much more in life, and I want to get to know him, before everyone who knew him is also gone. I’m 58 now, and I know a lot of people who knew him are also now gone, but I hope someone might see this and respond.

Thank you in advance,

Lisa Petersen
[email protected]

David was my uncle, and he was an amazing person. He loved my Aunt Linda and cousin Raven more than anything. I still miss him ??

VIETNAM VETERAN'S MEMORIAL
JULY 20TH, 1986

David. I touch your chiseled name
cold on this black wall.
Panel eight west row thirty-four first name.

David. The park service volunteer
loaned me a pencil
to trace your name on a piece of paper
that I keep in my wallet to this day.
A friend let me cry...and cry
on her shoulder.

David. I drove non-stop again
possessed as in eighty-two
by the tug of this sunken ebony monolith.
I come here at all hours
again and again.

David. It hits me now.
This is July twentieth
sixteen years to the day that your chopper
went down.
Two weeks in country and you went in
to rescue another downed crew.

David. You never even knew
your second child.
Just back from Nam
seeing Linda and the kids
was one of the hardest things I've ever done.
We wrote once or twice
then lost track of each other
overburdened by our common pain.

David. My beard's turning gray now
but my mind never forgets
and I remember your face at twenty-two
like yesterday.
The part of me that died there
etches no trace of my name on this black wall
but the dark reflection that stares back
remembers the loss.

David. It hurts.
David. I cry.
David. I touch your chiseled name.

David was my OCS cube mate and a good friend. Our families were close. I've never forgotten his humor and friendship. I've touched his name dozens of times since '82