On a lively spring Saturday at Shaler High School, amidst the fields where youngsters engage in combative sports, a towering black edifice stood out starkly against the lush green surroundings. As men, women, and children looked on with somber expressions, they carefully examined an extensive list of names carved into the monument’s face.
Their quest took them through a three-quarters-scale model of Washington, D.C.’s Vietnam Veterans Memorial—spanning 375 feet over Anderson Field—with every inch inscribed with the names of over 58,000 American servicemen and women who died during the Vietnam War.
The unreasonably tiny text alongside the journey
Wall That Heals
uncovers the extent of the losses from the conflict. The statements from individuals searching desperately for their loved ones highlight the profound impact of the memorial: Every person who visits has been personally touched by someone connected to this place.
Friends,” said Thomas McCarthy from Avonmore, halting as he fought to hold back his tears. “A man stands on that wall where I ought to be. He took my position. It might just as well have been me up there instead of him.
Following enlistment through delayed entry because of his mother being a widow and his brother serving, the individual from Squirrel Hill joined the Army Security Agency, describing it as an organization preceding the National Security Agency. Serving as a military police officer, he protected highly classified gear throughout the war aimed at preventing the expansion of communism.
During his days off, Mr. McCarthy recalled accompanying a buddy as additional security for supply trips between two bases.
“One of the days they were going to make the trip, somebody else wanted to go and I said, ‘Yeah, I’ll stay back.’ … They never came back,” he said, fighting tears once more. “It could’ve been me.”
Bouquets and a photograph of Vietnam veteran Joel Coleman were placed near The Wall That Heals, which is a scaled-down version—three-quarters the size—of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C., accompanied by a traveling Educational Center. This event took place at Anderson Field located within the grounds of Shaler Area High School on Saturday, May 24, 2025.
(Justin Guido/Post-Gazette)
Mr. McCarthy looked up the names of his fellow soldiers and friends, including Cpl. Robert T. Bradley, Spc. Gary Wilcox, and Sgt. Bruce Cosby Jr.
“I simply have to show my respect and thank them in my own manner,” he stated.
Many tales similar to his echoed around as veterans and their loved ones either shared memories or stood quietly composed.
Given that they grew up during a complex period in American history, roughly two-thirds of those who enlisted did so voluntarily. Meanwhile, others were conscripted through a draft system that randomly selected young men, often as young as 18, turning an entire generation into soldiers purely by chance related to their birth date.
One such soldier was Mike Orlaski from Lower Burrell, who was drafted into service as an Army infantryman.
He remembered a particularly “enjoyable” day during a patrol with ten other individuals when they stumbled upon a group of water buffaloes amid some rice fields. Since “Americans and water buffalos do not mix well,” an older Vietnamese gentleman guided them around the region. This man pointed them towards a deep stream, then deftly traversed across a thin strip of bamboo spanning from one shore to the next—holding onto additional lengths of bamboo tied among trees—with a hefty bag of rice balanced securely on his shoulders.
He crossed over without any issues… not a problem at all,” Mr. Orlasky remembered, smiling as he gestured. He recounted how he and his friends stumbled awkwardly behind him. “I believe there were around 6 or 8 children present who were giggling, convinced that one of us would end up falling. Everyone was chuckling, wondering how ‘that elderly gentleman managed to haul that thing across?’
However, the harsh realities of war became apparent to all.
“You mature quickly,” he remarked.
On January 7, 1969, during his service with the Army’s 25th Infantry Division, Charlie Company, his team encountered difficulties.
We suffered around 70% casualties that day,” stated Mr. Orlasky. “Our team consisted of roughly 50 or 60 men when we encountered a entrenched enemy force of 500 soldiers who were ready for our attack.
“He remembered being wounded by debris from his knee all the way up to his shoulder due to the initial blast.”
People search for their loved ones’ names at The Wall That Heals, a three-quarters scale version of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C., as it tours the nation accompanied by a portable Educational Center. This event takes place at Anderson Field near Shaler Area High School on Saturday, May 24, 2025.
(Justin Guido/Post-Gazette)
Following this, he took a hit to the chest that emerged out of his back. Despite being injured, he proceeded to engage in close-quarters fighting. Soon after, an additional grenade detonated, peppering his back once again with fragments of shrapnel.
That deflated my confidence,” he remarked. “I had disarmed the person I was battling, but then they reclaimed their weapon from me and hit me with it.
Mr. Orlasky was the final one evacuated by air to be transported to medical facilities; his fellow soldiers had to remain behind until they were certain he could endure a steep climb during takeoff, possibly while being attacked by enemies. As he lay on a stretcher, he recalls the pilot kneeling beside him.
Mr. Orlasky mentioned, “He stated, ‘I placed this object on its rear end; you simply hold onto it,’” and he added, “Those were some wild moments.”
“He attributes his survival to God being with him,” he explains.
Similar to Mr. McCarthy, he had come to find companions who hadn’t been as lucky.
It’s overwhelming to see all these names,” said Barbara Donatelli from McCandless, her emotions running high as she surveyed the area. “It really leaves you speechless.
Her spouse, Tom, was searching for the name of an old acquaintance from his college days, Army Cpl. James Engelmeier, who had left to fight in the war during their final year.
I recall that during his Christmas break while he was in basic training, he returned to visit us,” Mr. Donatelli remembered. “He mentioned he would never come back. He stated, ‘I’ll see you all, I won’t make it,’ and unfortunately, he passed away on our graduation day.
For numerous years, Mr. Donatelli has kept an engraving of his acquaintance displayed in his office as a constant reminder, similar to how The Wall That Heals serves as a memorial; this exhibit will remain in Shaler until Memorial Day. On that particular day, a large C-17 Globemaster III plane from the 911th Air Wing, stationed at Pittsburgh International Airport, will soar above the location.
I couldn’t help but reflect on the life I led compared to the one he never got to live,” Mr. Donatelli stated. “I mean, when you consider the loss of a young serviceman or woman, it feels like an immense amount of potential that was wasted.
He could have had kids, even grandkids. None of that is with us anymore. I reflect on the life I’ve lived and the one he missed out on because of our freedom, for my liberty.
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