BREATHES THERE A MAN WITH SOUL SO DEAD..
Who never to himself hath said,
"This is my own, my native land."

I've been gone for a few days, made a trip to Los Angeles to view some art, and to visit a few clients. Boy, was it hot.

I spent a day with Spike Nasmyth, an F-4 Phantom pilot during the Viet-Nam war, a man who spent more than 2300 days in the Hanoi Hilton, the notorious prison in Hanoi where American airman were imprisoned, often beaten and tortured, endured months in solitary confinement, and finally came home to resume their lives. We do not know what problems are, we don't know suffering and pain, the way these men knew and experienced it.

One pilot spent 7 1/2 years under these horrendous conditions and survived; he died just a short time ago, but you can bet that he never fully recovered from that experience. Now we celebrate and honor prisoners who spent less than a month in Iraqi jails, but ignore these most courageous men who went through hell because their government asked them to do so, but many Americans condemned when they arrived home.

Spike wrote a book about it, which he will be sending me shortly. It's one I am going to treasure, believe me.

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