"Our boys knew what happened in Tiananmen Square, but I doubt they felt the heaviness Ron and I experienced. We had all read the history and had seen the picture: that one haunting picture, told the story. Did our boys realize those who were killed for standing up for what they believed were students, just like themselves? Defenseless children putting their high ideals against the Big Red Machine.
How many died that day? Thousands some say, but nobody knows for sure. The Chinese government skillfully covered up the events, so we may never know. But the parents of these students know. They must still be dealing with the gaping
wound, because they were never able to grieve for their children. Ron and I learned to communicate with our eyes. We felt each other's pain.
Nobody is ever prepared to lose a child. But everyone should be allowed to openly grieve and be comforted by those who love them. The parents of these children never had that freedom. Our boys ran into the Square in no particular order. And we were, once again, so grateful they had been allowed the freedom to each march to their own drum."