Chapter 6        Mrs. Robinson.

        It was a Memorial Day.  Our English as second language teacher, Mrs. Robinson, told us this morning there was no English class because she had to go somewhere; but she told us we were welcome to accompany her.  A couple of classmates and I went with her to a church next to the high school.  On the walk, she told us that her husband died during the Korean war.  He was a doctor with integrity.  He insisted on wearing surgical gloves during surgery.  

But his insistence on proper surgery procedure annoyed his superiors.  Her husband did not get along with the superiors and they decided he should get a taste of the real fighting situation.  They decided to send him to a hospital nearer to the front line.  "He died working there. . . . that stupid man," she murmured to herself.  

        There was a band at the church cemetery.  They were playing a loud music that did not seem to fit the situation.  In step with the rhythm of the band, a unit of girl scouts accompanied the ceremony.  Among the row of girl scouts Mrs. Robinson pointed out a girl to me.  "She is my daughter," she whispered.  Her daughter, in the unit, proudly wore the traditional brown uniform with yellow trim and a yellow sash as she solemnly marched into the cemetery with her fellow girl scouts.  She placed flowers at her father's grave.  "Stupid man," she murmured to herself again.  Watching her daughter placing the flowers, tears rolled down Mrs. Robinson's cheeks.

        In tears, I ran from the cemetery.  I could not watch further.  "Why?"  I asked myself.  I felt I was the one who was  responsible for her husband's death.  "Why did our grandparents fight among ourselves, with what purpose, for what reason?"  I felt I was the guilty one.  I was guilty for having involved other nations in my own fight.  I was the guilty one in front of history.  For a minute I did not want this blood in my hand.  I wished I wasn't the guilty one.  I cursed my ancestors for the responsibility on my shoulder.  For a brief moment I cursed my ancestors for the responsibility on my shoulder.