It was the local newspaper where Linda Stamatopoulos learned about the Vietnam Veterans Memorial coming to Hollister, Calif. Her brother, Jerry, is one of the 58,241 names on the wall Corporal Jerry G. Ervin, Panel 30 West, Line 078. My mother had cried over his loss until the day she died, Stamatopoulos remembers.
Wanting to get involved, she contacted Charlie Scott, Veterans of Foreign Wars (VFW) Commander, to discover that the organizational tasks were far behind schedule. She wholeheartedly agreed to get involved and recruited Patrick Lampe, a like-minded business associate, to help.
Its an opportunity for people to heal, she says. Many people cant make the trip to Washington, D.C.
Volunteers were needed to construct the one-third size memorial replica, organize the opening and closing ceremonies, and man the exhibit 24 hours a day for seven days from June 30 to July 5. Training included learning the walls history, protocol for assisting guests in finding the deceased veterans name and how to offer emotional support.
This newly elected personal ministries leader of the Hollister church knew exactly where to go for a host of volunteers Sabbath morning worship service and Saturday night vespers. Twenty-four adults and the Pathfinder Club volunteered.
The memorial would open for the annual Independence Day Rally, which hosts more than 100,000 bikers over the 4th of July holiday. Members of motorcycle clubs and gangs from around the United States converge on the town of 38,000. Since 1947, Hollister has held the distinction as the birthplace of the American biker.
Between 60 and 70 percent of bikers are veterans, so having the memorial in Hollister was particularly meaningful.
The construction challenges alone were daunting. By the time the wall arrived, Stamatopoulos, now bearing the title of organizer, knew it was impossible to meet the opening deadline.
She called on church members to come for a prayer walk. We walked the whole field singing 'The Battle Belongs to the Lord,' she says. Even with newspaper announcements, the next day dawned without enough volunteers to complete the task. Stamatopoulos called for another prayer walk. Just as we finished, we looked up as two fire engines drove onto the grounds with all the able bodies [needed].
At the 2 p.m. opening dedication service, the exhibit was ready. Adventist Pastor Pierre Steenberg led out in the service with Pathfinders presenting a wreath. Steenberg was also the main speaker at the closing ceremony on July 5.
More than 120 trained volunteers, including 45 Adventists, were on hand. We would walk them to the wall, watching for needs. Some needed a hug, some you held as they cried, Stamatopoulos says. It took one veteran three days before he could walk the last few yards to the wall. Hed lost 26 soldiers from his 28-man unit in one day.
Lampes motor home became the command center with someone always available for listening, prayers and hugs. Members of the Christian Motorcycle Association (CMA) volunteered for security detail each night. "There were many 'Nicodemus' experiences, with hardened bikers coming to the wall in the middle of the night, weeping and asking for prayer, Stamatopoulos says.
The memorial created a new sense of community. Not wanting that to end, the Adventist church hosted a thank you brunch Sunday, Aug. 1. All the volunteers and community veterans were invited.
More than 100 people came, and the parking lot overflowed with bikes of CMA and Sabbath Keepers Club members. One of the Christian motorcycle clubs sang special music. Their selection: The Battle Belongs to the Lord.
Steenberg and Stamatopoulos have been invited to speak at several local service clubs including the Lions and Rotary to share their experiences.
I know there is a hurting dying world, and some people dont have any hope, Stamatopoulos says. We have the hope and answers. It is a privilege to be able to share that, cry with someone and encourage them to read the back of the Book and plant that eternal hope.