The Open Doors Exhibit Gallery

This exhibit of 30 sepia-toned, black and white photographic portraits and accompanying, written profiles is intended to capture these men who were tested like few people of subsequent generations have. The goal of this writer/photographer team was to capture the subjects’ personalities with visual images and written profiles that add verbal color, context and quotes. It was also intended to defy the lingering, negative stereotype of Vietnam veterans.

Separately, the profile and portrait give the observer a glimpse at a man. Together, they give insight into how he ticks, how he thinks and how he lives. Seeing Navy Captain Ev Southwick laughing and playing the ukulele offers up a visual image of a flirtatious, playful, fun-loving man. However, his profile reveals a much more intimate sense at how laughter sustained him through three divorces and a brain aneurysm. Not a deeply religious man, he used laughter as a spiritual release and the photo captured his own personal therapy in action.

“Open Doors: Vietnam POWs Thirty Years Later” suggests hope, opportunity and second chances—a testament to the sheer strength of the human spirit and the power of human will. It reinforces the poignant quote made by Navy Commander Paul Galanti: “There’s no such thing as a bad day when you have a door knob on the inside of the door.”

The exhibit is now on permanent display at the corporate headquarters of CACI International, Inc. in Arlington, Virginia.

The Message

Men who grew up too young to fight in World War II saw their fathers tested physically and mentally by war. This generation of men had a tremendous sense of faith instilled in them at a very early age—faith in the unwavering loyalty and indomitable bonds of the nuclear family, faith in their government and faith in their country.

The Vietnam conflict shattered that faith for a generation of youth, but mostly for those who did not serve in uniform. For the aviators captured and held as POWs, time stood still. For the most part, these men did not experience the unrest, the cultural and spiritual conflict our country witnessed during that tumultuous season. They never lost their faith in our system, but clung to it—some might say naively. Regardless, it sustained them and empowered them.

Aviators are known for pushing the limits of physics and for cheating fate. They signed up for Vietnam to be tested. In their profession, they couldn’t afford to be ambivalent, nor to lose their convictions.

What happened when their dignity and independence were stripped away in a prison in North Vietnam? They survived.

Collectively, they endured out of a fear of shame. They felt an innate sense of obligation to do what’s right in the eyes of their fellow prisoners and to show honor to their country. It was never a solitary struggle, as each of them supported and validated the others. It constantly motivated them.

Perhaps that is what is missing in younger generations—the fear of shame, the sense of sacrifice as the ultimate grace.

Some prisoners or victims of unfortunate fates wallow in self-pity, some reflect on their lives and opportunities lost. Some lose their faith; some gain a renewed sense of spirituality. For those whose fate dictated that they spend precious personal and professional years in torturous isolation in North Vietnam, they had two choices: self-destruction or a search of their inner core and a beseeching of their Maker for the patience to tolerate their captors and simply endure. Get through each day, one day at a time. Get out mentally and physically intact. Return with their names and reputations whole.

Most POWs from the Vietnam era do not brood on their fortunes or misfortunes as a result of the conflict and their imprisonment. Few wallow in the “What ifs?” of their lives. Is this a particularly masculine trait? Can it be attributed to military training? Did it play a significant role in their mental health and in the resurrection of their lives upon their return? What is it about the will of these men that make them so extraordinary?

For these men were not given celebrity treatment by today’s standards. They weren’t given book deals or movie deals or publicists or a million dollars. Rather, they were asked to resume their roles as husbands and fathers and to salvage their careers. Some families survived; others broke apart. But the men didn’t. Most flourished. None of them would claim to be perfect, but they refuse to be bitter and they take great pride in their individual accomplishments. Most relish life, for they know that God understands them intimately—and that life always presents new doors of opportunity to open. Peel away the layers of masculinity and you’ll find strong fiber at their core. They don’t want pity; they don’t want help. Take a look at where life has taken them … or, more appropriately, where they’ve taken their lives.

-Taylor Baldwin Kiland

Exhibit Photos

Media Coverage