Jesse Bulldog walked the length of a traveling memorial dedicated to the 58,000 servicemembers who died during the Vietnam War.
At each of the 141 panels, he stopped and wafted sage ash in a warrior salute that dates back to Native American tradition. As he slowly moved, the smoke drifted across the rows and rows of inscribed names etched into the synthetic avonite granite of the Wall That Heals.
At 375 feet long and 7.5 feet at its tallest point, the touring monument is a three-quarter-scale replica of the Vietnam Veterans War Memorial in Washington, D.C., that is visiting Orange County this week.
It will be open 24 hours a day to the public at Grijalva Park in Orange through Sunday afternoon, with volunteers on hand at all times to assist visitors in finding names.
“I’m blessing the warriors that didn’t come home,” the 79-year-old Marine veteran from Santa Ana said of the ritual that comes from his Apache roots.
Bulldog, who is originally from New Mexico, said two of his brothers’ names are carved into the granite. Both served in the Army Rangers.. He, too, served in the Marines and was in Vietnam in 1965, 1968, 1970, and 1975 during the evacuation, he said.
His solemn tribute drew the attention of the dozens gathered for the opening ceremony on Thursday at the neighborhood park. Several men approached him, asking for their own blessings. In one instance, the puff of smoke briefly sparked into a hint of a flame, and Bulldog explained to the man that “whatever you’re dealing with will now go away.”
The monument, which last visited in Costa Mesa in 2019 and was in Orange in 2011, came to the city through the efforts of the nonprofit The Wall that Heals – Orange, which formed specifically for the purpose of bringing the tribute to Orange County. Volunteers have spent months coordinating and fundraising more than $40,000. When the wall leaves Orange after a closing ceremony on Sunday, it will travel to Northern California and by year’s end will have visited 30 cities. It began its 2025 tour in March and first started traveling the U.S. in 1996.
Thursday’s ceremony began with a prayer from Orange County Fire Authority Chaplain Ric Olsen, who said that for some, the wall in Orange would be the first time they could “tangibly address their loss.”
“May this memorial serve as a reminder for the ongoing need for peace and the promise of a future unburdened by the horrors of war,” Olsen prayed.
There was an honor guard formed by JROTC students from Orange High School, the national anthem was sung by Allysa Villa and the Condor Squadron from Van Nuys flew three passes over the park, including the missing man formation where one of the four planes veered off and flew in a different direction toward the heavens.
“The Wall that heals stands as a poignant tribute to the more than 58,000 souls who gave their lives in service during the Vietnam War,” Orange Mayor Dan Slater said. “Each name etched into its surface representing a story, a sacrifice, a loved one never forgotten. I lost an uncle in Vietnam; his name is on the wall. As we walk alongside this remarkable replica of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, let us remember that healing is not just an individual journey, but a collective one. It offers an opportunity to connect the past with the present and to honor those who served. We welcome our veterans with open arms and grateful hearts.”
“May the Wall That Heals remind us that out of sorrow, hope can flourish and from remembrance, unity can grow,” he added.
Rep. Young Kim, from California’s 40th District, reminded those present that the names on the wall also represent families who are also deserving of honor, empathy and compassion.
“It’s not only the fallen heroes, but also loved ones that carry the weight of sacrifice,” she said. “There are parents, spouses, children, brothers and sisters, I want to thank them for the strength, the resiliency, and love that are all part of that story, too.”
Bill Sandlin, a Marine veteran from Irvine who served as an anti-tank specialist, said he was at Thursday’s opening to pay tribute to those who died, but couldn’t bear to look for the names he knows anymore.
“I stopped looking at my friends’ names a long time ago,” the 85-year-old said. “I hate the thought of seeing an old man crying.”
Sandlin, who has been active in veterans outreach with various veteran posts and still works with active-duty Marines at Camp Pendleton, said having the memorial visit and hearing the words during the opening ceremony provides a sense of closure. He also said seeing younger veterans who served in more recent conflicts receive the recognition they deserve helped him and other Vietnam veterans navigate their own feelings of abandonment upon returning home and to heal.
“Once we saw the change of attitude, it was a kind of closure for us that the American people understood what the Vietnam veterans went through and that they regretted the idea of knowing what a lot of veterans had to go through,” he said.
Eloy Fierro, of Cypress, who served in the Army from 1969 to 1971, looked for the name of a childhood friend, Richard Calderon, whom he lost contact with decades ago when he and his family moved from New Mexico to California.
Fierro said he never knew what happened to his friend until about 10 years ago, when he came across a memorial website that attaches names, photos and stories to servicemembers who died in wars the U.S. fought.
“Friendships then were real friendships,” he said of his childhood years and the impression Calderon made on him. “He was just someone I could rely on. I always wondered what happened to him.”
When Fierro heard the Wall That Heals was coming to Orange, he said he didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity to remember and honor Calderon again.
And, for Michael Carter, a Marine veteran who served at Twentynine Palms and Camp Pendleton between 2004 and 2013 and deployed as a machine gunner three times, getting the wall to Orange was deeply personal. As operations manager for the Tierney Center for Veteran Services in Tustin, Carter said he asked to join the board and worked as the nonprofit’s secretary.
As he helped set up the panels of the memorial earlier in the week, he said he not only thought of those who served in Vietnam, but also the Marines who served with him in Iraq who never made it home.
“There’s a big difference between my service and the men and women whose names are on the memorial,” he said. “I chose to be a Marine, I chose to serve in the infantry. Many of them didn’t have a choice. They were drafted, forced into combat, and they still answered the call.
“I remember leaving for my own deployments scared of not coming home, but also feeling the support of my community, people lining the streets with flags and signs reminding me why I served,” he added. “Our Vietnam veterans didn’t have that. They came home to a country divided, and yet they wore the uniform with honor.”
Carter said after he took his father to see the memorial in Washington, D.C., he understands even more poignantly how much the wall means to the older generations of veterans.
He said he watched his father break down, sharing memories of his buddy, whose name, Leroy Charboneau, is on panel 23E, line 56.
“That moment taught me that this wall isn’t just about names, it’s about stories, sacrifice and healing,” he said. “So, to me, the Wall That Heals is a reminder of all who’ve served, all we’ve lost, and the responsibility we carry to make sure that legacy is not forgotten.”