10x02 - The Wall

[bunniefuu]

♪ Reading rainbow ♪

♪ Butterfly in the sky ♪

♪ I can go twice as high ♪

♪ Take a look ♪

♪ It's in a book ♪

♪ A reading rainbow ♪

♪ I can go anywhere ♪

♪ Friends to know ♪

♪ And ways to grow ♪

♪ A reading rainbow ♪

♪ I can be anything ♪

♪ Take a look ♪

♪ It's in a book ♪

♪ A reading rainbow ♪

♪ Reading rainbow ♪

Hi.

I'm standing near a wall
that's very different

From any wall
you've ever seen.

It's not part
of a house or building.

This wall is part
of our country's past.

It stands here in a park
in washington, d.c.

The wall's official name is
the vietnam veterans memorial.

It was built to honor soldiers
who gave their lives in battle.

They fought a w*r and d*ed
in a country called vietnam.

The wall stretches
for nearly 500 feet.

As you walk from end to end,

You see that the wall
is covered with names.

There are 58,000 of them
etched in shining black stone.

Each one is the name
of an american soldier.

Visitors from
all over our country come

To remember friends
and family members

Lost long ago.

It's a chance to think
about someone you miss

Or someone you never met
but wish you had.

Millions of people
come to see the wall every year.

The story of one boy's visit
is told in this book,

The wall,
by eve bunting.

This is the wall,
my grandfather's wall.

On it are the names

Of those k*lled
in a w*r long ago.

"Where's grandpa's name?"
I ask.

"We have to find it,"
dad says.

He and I have come
a long way for this,

And we walk slowly, searching.

The wall is black
and shiny as a mirror.

In it, I see dad and me.

A man in a wheelchair
stares at the names.

He doesn't have legs.

I'm looking,

And he sees me looking
and smiles.

"Hi, son."

"Hi."

His hat's a soft green.

There are medals on it.

His pant legs are folded back.

His shirt is
a soldier's shirt.

A woman, old as my grandma,
is hugging a man

Old as my grandpa would be.

They're both crying.

"Shh," he whispers.

"Shh."

Flowers and other things

Had been laid against the wall.

There are flags,

A teddy bear,

Letters weighted with stones
so they wouldn't blow away.

"Have you found grandpa yet?"
I ask.

"No," dad says.

"There are so many names.

"They're listed under the years
when they were k*lled.

I found 1967."

That's when my grandpa d*ed.

Dad runs his fingers
along the rows of print,

And I do, too.

The letters march side by side
like rows of soldiers.

They're even.
Better printing than I do.

Dad is searching and searching.

"Albert a. Jensen.

Charles bronoski."

His fingers stop moving.

"Here he is.

George munoz."

"My grandpa?" I ask.

Dad nods.

"Your grandpa,
my dad.

He was just my age
when he was k*lled."

Dad's rubbing the name,

Rubbing and rubbing
as if to wipe it away.

Maybe he just wants to remember
the way it feels.

He lifts me
so I can touch it, too.

We've brought paper.

Dad puts it over the letters
and rubs it with the pencil.

The letters show up white.

"You've got parts
of other names, too," I say.

Dad looks at the paper.

"Your grandpa won't mind."

"They were probably
friends of his anyway," I say.

"Maybe so."

A man and a boy walk past.

"Can we go to the river,
grandpa?" The boy asks.

"Yes."
He takes the boy's hand.

"Button your jacket.
It's cold."

My dad stands very still
with his head bent.

Big girls in school uniforms
come down the path.

Their teacher is with them.

They're carrying
those little flags.

"Is this the wall
for the dead soldiers?"

One asks loudly.

"These are
names of the dead,

But the wall's for us,"
the teacher says.

They make noise
and ask questions,

And all the time,

Dad just stands there
with his head bowed.

I stand beside him.

The girls stick their flags
in front of the wall and leave.

Then it's quiet again.

Dad folds the paper
that has grandpa's name on it

And puts it in his wallet.

He slides out
a picture of me,

A yucky one
they took in school.

Dad puts the picture
on the grass

Below grandpa's name.

It blows away.

I get it, put it back,
and pile stones on top.

My face smiles
from under the stones.

"Grandpa won't know who I am,"
I say.

"I think he will,"
dad says.

I move closer to him.

"It's sad here."

He puts his hand
on my shoulder.

"I know, but it's
a place of honor.

I'm proud your grandfather's
name is on this wall."

"I am, too.

"I am.

"But I'd rather
have my grandpa here,

"Taking me to the river,

"Telling me to button my jacket
because it's cold.

I'd rather have him here."

Now that I've seen it up close,

I understand
why many people come here.

This wall has
a powerful effect on you.

Who came up
with this design?

It must have been hard

Deciding how to remember


Architect maya lin
is the person who did it.

An architect is someone
who designs places

That really affect
how people live.

When I designed the memorial,
the wall,

I wanted to do something that
responded to the individual.

If you lost someone
in that w*r,

How would you like
to remember someone?

When you say someone's name,

Everything about that person
comes into being for you.

The fact that you're
touching a name

Is something that's
extremely special.

I think it just happens to be
the magic of what a name is

That people are responding to.

One choice I made
in the design

Was to not list names
alphabetically

But to list them in the order
in which they were k*lled,

From the beginning of the w*r
to the end.

By doing that,

I hoped that anyone
who served in the w*r

Could find their time
on the wall.

One of the first sketches
I made of the memorial

Is very important to me.

I got a feeling
for what the piece would be--

Something that was horizontal,
low to the ground.

As you go down,
and as you approach the center,

It's almost as if the names
are rising up above you.

The gesture was
just to cut open the earth...

And polish the earth's edge.

And when you polish
black granite,

It becomes
absolutely reflective,

Which is something
that you never get

With any other stone.

To me, it separates
the world of light, our world,

And a darker world,

The world beyond the names
that you can see into.

It makes us understand
the living can remember,

But we can't pass
beyond the names.

We can't pass
into the realm of the dead.

When you cut into black granite,
it turns white.

It becomes highly visible.

I chose the stone because
of how easy it is to read.

And also, when it rains,
the names disappear.

As the granite dries,
they reappear,

So there's a sense of life,

A sense of change
in relation to the elements.

There's something really magical
about how, as a species,

We really can communicate
to one another,

Not necessarily through talking,
through language.

There are other ways

In which you can
really understand one another.

You've got to make something
that still will be understood

In later generations.

You're talking across time.

A child
a hundred years from now

Who doesn't know anything
about the w*r

Will see the immense sacrifice,
the 57,000 names,

And think about that time,
these people.

It doesn't tell you
what's right, what's wrong,

What to think.

It allows you a place
where you don't glorify w*r,

But you do honestly
remember and honor the people.

The names on maya lin's wall

Help us remember people
who have served our country.

Other artists have built walls
that help us remember.

One sculptor used faces
instead of names.

In a huge,
natural wall of stone,

He carved a tribute
to four americans.

Mount rushmore lies among
the craggy granite hills

Of south dakota.

There's nothing else like it
in all the world.

Carved right into the stone

Are the faces
of four american presidents

Who represent the ideals

On which our country
was founded.

George washington,
our first president,

Fought for liberty
and democracy.

Thomas jefferson wrote
the declaration of independence,

Guaranteeing us all equality.

Abraham lincoln
kept our nation together

And defended
our social freedom.

And theodore roosevelt pioneered
the conservation movement

To protect and preserve
our environment.

These four men
are bound together

In a colossal sculpture
on the face of mount rushmore.

At first,
the monument was just a dream.

It was made a reality
by gutzon borglum.

[expl*si*n]

Borglum started
by building small-scale models.

He perfected a technique

Of measuring exact amounts
of dynamite

To blast
precise amounts of stone.

This is the way


Holes were drilled
to hold the dynamite.

Special scaffolding
and harnesses were built

For borglum and his workers.

And after the blasting was done,

The granite was
smoothed and buffed.

From the moment the sculpture
was finished in october 1941,

Mount rushmore
has inspired visitors

And stands today

As a giant tribute
to our nation's heritage.

"Liberty,
when it begins to take root,

Is a plant of rapid growth."

George washington.

"To waste, to destroy
our natural resources,

Will result in undermining
our prosperity."

Theodore roosevelt.

"We hold these truths
to be self-evident,

That all men
are created equal."

Thomas jefferson.

"Government of the people,
by the people, for the people."

Abraham lincoln.

You don't have to carve
a mountain of stone

To show what
you think of someone.

All it takes is a wall
and a paintbrush.

[When the saints
go marching in plays]

This wall is a tribute

To the great jazz musician
louis armstrong.

He was a brilliant
trumpet player and singer

Who performed
around the world.

He was known for the exuberance
and personality

He packed into every song.

His unique musical style changed
the face of jazz forever.

People just loved him.

He was a great source of pride
for african americans.

This is juan suarez,

An artist
who's honoring louis armstrong

With this giant painting,
a mural.

♪ When the saints
go marching in ♪

♪ Marching in ♪

♪ Yes, I want to be
in that number ♪

♪ A-when the saints
go marching in ♪♪

What's really wonderful
about this particular project

Is that it's
my very first mural.

Working on a wall this size
is different.

Most of my paintings
are on canvas.

Though my canvas
tends to be big,

It's not a quarter
of this wall.

One of juan's challenges

Was how to paint a picture
on a wall this big.

He started with
a small drawing on paper.

Then he created a grid

That divided the drawing
into squares.

Square by square,

Juan and his assistants copied
the drawing onto the wall.

When you apply paint
to canvas,

It bounces
back and forth.

It gives,

Whereas working
on a brick surface like this,

It doesn't move back.

Also, the texture of the brick

Is just a whole
different consideration.

The fact that the brick has
a lot of bumps on the surface,

That straight line,
to look straight,

Had to be painted on
not straight.

Once I had
an understanding

That I had to play tricks
in order to get a straight line,

It became easier to manipulate

The dimensions and the lines
and the design of the mural.

Because so many people

Volunteered to work with juan,

This wall has special meaning
to the community.

It honors them
as well as louis armstrong,

A musician
everybody admired.

A mural painter uses a wall
to tell one story.

I know a place where every wall
holds hundreds of tales.

It's your library.

Here are some books
you can find there.

You may look at a wall
and see a pile of bricks,

But not tillie.

This little mouse

Imagines beautiful things
beyond the wall.

This is the story
of her adventure.

It's called
tillie and the wall.

Tillie's a curious mouse.

She lives near a wall.

Her friends don't
pay attention to the wall,

But tillie
can't keep her eyes off it.

She's always wondering,
"what's it doing there?

What's on the other side?"

She tries to go over, around,
and even through the wall.

A creature
even smaller than tillie

Shows her the way.

It doesn't matter
how big you are

Or how smart you are.

Just use your imagination.

You never know what you'll find.

My grandson lew

Is a story about a boy
whose grandfather dies.

Lew remembers his grandfather.

His grandfather had a big beard.

It scratched lew
when he kissed him.

Lew remembered
his grandfather's blue eyes.

Lew's mother was surprised

Lew could
picture his grandfather

After many years.

This book reminded me
about how I felt

When my grandfather d*ed.

I really miss
my own grandpa.

My name
is matthew stevenson.

This book helps you
remember your grandparents

When you read it.

Hi. I'm lauren.

Have you felt like laughing
and crying at the same time?

That's how this book
made me feel.

It's called
all those secrets of the world.

Sometimes when someone
goes away from you,

You're afraid that
they'll never come back.

That's how janie feels
when her daddy goes to w*r.

She's very worried.

Two years pass, and finally
janie's dad comes home.

Her baby brother
doesn't even recognize his dad.

"Go away, you bad man,"
he says.

But janie's happy that he's safe
and won't go away again.

If you like books
that are true to life

And have
beautiful endings,

You'll love this.

Many walls are built
to separate people.

A few special ones
bring us together.

These places we've seen today
are walls of honor.

We may not know
the names and faces,

But we shouldn't forget
these people.

They made contributions
to our world.

I'm taking memories

Of my visit to
the vietnam veterans memorial

That I'll cherish forever.

We should
leave something behind.

It'll be our way
of saying thank you.

See you next time.

[Taps plays]

Today's reading rainbow books
are...

The wall, by eve bunting,
illustrated by ronald himler,

Published by clarion books;
a houghton mifflin co. Imprint.

Tillie and the wall,
by leo lionni,

Published by alfred a. Knopf.

My grandson lew,
by charlotte zolotow,

Pictures by
william pene du bois,

Published by harpercollins.

All those secrets of the world,
by jane yolen,

Illustrated by leslie baker,

Published by
little, brown and co.