There were many Americans that were in opposition to the Vietnam War, but none so vehemently against it as a man by the name of Norman Morrison. The 32-year-old Quaker minister from the busy little city of Baltimore had managed to create a tidal wave of impact that stretched across the world.
On a quiet November morning, Norman Morrison woke up with a head cold. As he sat down to his usual breakfast of eggs and toast, he picked up the recent I.F. Stone’s Weekly to read the latest reports on the War. What he read on the black and white pages disturbed him greatly, and struck a chord in his heart that had yet to be played.
“I have seen my faithful burned up in napalm. I have seen the bodies of women and children blown to bits. I have seen all my villages razed. By God, it’s not possible!” The words of an anguished priest in Vietnam reverberated throughout his brain, and his body yearned for it to stop. His toast tasted more like sandpaper, and the eggs like tasteless mush. What was there for him to do? What could he, a pacifist since birth and an ordinary man of ordinary means, do about the horrific tragedies occurring in Vietnam?
Just as each frame of a motion picture flicks by a viewer’s eyes, never noticeable by itself but yet an indispensable part of a plan, so Norman was inspired by an idea. What had been a flash in his mind became his sole focus. He called his secretary to tell her that he was sick, and would be taking the day off. In charge of his baby girl for the day, he packed up his 11-month-old daughter Emily in the family Volkswagen, explaining to her that daddy was going to take her for a ride. Just before departing, he wrote a quick note to his wife telling her “I love thee but must act for the children of the priest’s village.”
As they drove, the car was silent except for the rush of wind through the partially cracked windows. Norman’s mind wandered over many events, both significant and empty, yet every one revealed its purpose in his life. As he gazed at his sleeping daughter in the rear-view mirror, he thought of her future and the future of the children just like her that were in Vietnam. As much as it pained him, he knew that something had to be done to keep the world in check, if only for the safety of Emily.
Norman found himself driving through the streets of Washington D.C., watching the people rushing to work in their suits and ties. He fingered his homespun wool sweater and thought of how he would never be one of them. Almost without thinking, he pulled into a parking space along a side street. He pulled his little girl out of the back seat, wrapped her in a blanket to protect her from the chill of fall, and walked with purposeful steps towards the Pentagon.
The sounds of horns blaring and people shouting were dulled in his mind, and his ears were acutely aware of the crunching of the leaves underneath his feet as he walked. The fragile yet vibrant remainders of life, so quickly swept away by the wind, but so beautiful to see while they lasted. The reds, yellows and oranges filled his sight as he approached the Pentagon. He looked up to the fifth floor, where he knew the Secretary of Defense, Robert McNamara had his office. He thought to himself that if only McNamara knew how many innocent lives were being wasted for such a useless cause…
Norman sighed and looked into the bright blue eyes of his little angel, her blonde hair glowing like a halo in the morning rays. His mind wavered for a moment as he thought of the precious value of life. But he reminded himself of all the other people that were being robbed of this valuable gift, and knew that someone had to try to give it back to them.
Still clutching Emily, he climbed up on a low wall just a few hundred feet from the Pentagon. With his free hand he pulled out a small jug of kerosene and poured it all over himself. As the thick fluid ran down his head and neck, soaking his clothing, he felt a wave of peace wash over him. This is what I was meant to do. This is the answer to all those questions.
People had begun to notice the man standing on the wall, and began to gather around. A woman ran up to Norman, screaming at him to save his child. It was as if a shroud of tranquility had been draped around him, and he was no longer afraid. He wondered why the woman was so upset- of course he wasn’t going to hurt his baby girl. To appease her hysteria, he tossed Emily into her arms, and then pulled his little box of matches out of his pocket.
He looked up into the crisp blue sky and thanked God for showing him his purpose and giving him the strength he needed to carry it out. He smiled for the first time that day, and before he knew it he had lit a match and begun a fire that would burn its way into the memory of thousands. His sacrifice told the story of a quest for peace that touched the lives of people all around the world. In one moment, Norman Morrison went from a common Quaker living in Baltimore, to an international icon representing peace and justice. As one of his friends later put it, his message was “See what it is like for a man to die by fire. See it for yourselves. You, who make impersonal war, devising strategies and tactics in your air-conditioned offices, look and see!”
Also, another side note: Norman Morrison's wife currently resides in Black Mountain, NC and I had the privilege of interviewing her and their daughter Emily. They are a wonderful and amazing family.
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