A Veteran’s Last Service

Keeping the light on at Post 8241

By Taylor Harris

November 11, 2009

It’s not the kind of place you’d notice. Unless, of course, you were looking for it. But these days, it seems no one is looking for the black mailbox off of Spring Hill Road painted “1051” in white numbers. Few, if any, are looking for a beer or a slice of pizza, for a discussion of wars past or present, for a game of pool or a patriotic tune. The brick ranch that is the McLean Veterans of Foreign Wars Post 8241, marked by two cannons and an American flag in its yard, is all but empty.

“I can remember when this was standing room only,” says Ned Clark, 84, as he points to a large room that used to hold lively dances but now holds columns of stacked chairs against its walls. “Now you’re lucky if you see more than four or five people on one day, and half a dozen is a crowd. I’d be happy if more people would come, but I guess there’s nothing here—not enough girls.”

McLean’s VFW membership has actually increased over the last eight years from 230 to over 350, according to the post’s commander, Andy Setzer, 63. But, as Clark notes, people can pay $30 a year to join and still sit at home.

Retired from the U.S. Navy and a veteran of World War II and the Korean War, Clark joined the post in 1970. By 1984, he and other members tore down the old house serving as their meeting grounds and built the post now standing. Twenty-five years later, Clark still comes into the post around 8 a.m. and leaves right before dark—even if he’s the only one there all day.

“I don’t really need to be here,” he says. “I’ve got nothing else to do. This is like a home to me.”

The former post commander downplays his role in maintaining the branch, including the lawn mowing, trash dumping and cleaning. Looking through his thick brown-rimmed glasses and pulling on the bill of his Redskins Superbowl XXII cap, he jokes, “I don’t know much of anything. I’m just three steps away from Alzheimer’s.”

Like many of the 2.2 million veterans worldwide who are members of the VFW and its auxiliaries, Clark joined the veteran’s organization to support the community and enjoy the camaraderie. And while he jests about losing his memory (he actually recalls important events by month, date and year) and despising his old age, it is true that his fellow veterans of World War II are slipping away.

“The WWII veterans are all dying off,” says Bob Smith, commander of VFW Post 9274 in Falls Church. And those still alive can’t engage the way they used to. “Their meds won’t let them drink, and they’re tired and go to bed early,” Smith says.

Indeed, 900 of the approximately 2.5 million World War II veterans die every day, according to the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs website, and the median age of those living is 84.

“They’ve paid their dues,” says Smith, who sees more than one explanation for low levels of participation. With 264 members at his post, he has been able to recruit enough veterans, some of whom are in their thirties, to balance the number of older veterans dying, but he notes the difficulty in doing so.

“Gulf War veterans are still busy raising families,” he says. While Smith has seen improvement at his Falls Church post in the past four years, with about 25 members gathering every Friday night for $2 beer and good conversation, he believes it’s time for VFW leaders to rethink where they want to take the organization.

Back at the McLean post, Clark throws up his hands behind the bar that he helped to construct.

“I don’t have the faintest idea,” he says, pondering the reason for the emptiness of the post in recent years. “If I did, I’d change it.” Clark adds that he’s not sure why Vietnam vets haven’t taken the place of the aging WWII veterans.

Shuffling behind the counter in his flannel shirt and navy slacks, Clark pours himself a cup of coffee. The bar appears ready to serve a group of 10 to 12 veterans with its hanging Christmas lights, leather chairs with tufted buttons, and television set. In the future, Clark, like Smith, would enjoy having a younger demographic relax in his chairs and grab a soda or bag of chips.

“I’d welcome them with open arms,” he says. “We’d kiss ‘em.”

Until then, the man who has served in just about every position the post has to offer, will offer the post everything he has.

Amid the bare hallways and abandoned restaurant-style booths, there are signs of life at 1501 Spring Hill Road. Plaques and pennants awarded just last year adorn walls and ceilings. Posters at the entrance advertise a coming pool tournament and Christmas party, and an old block-lettered billboard out front reads: “Open House, Wed. Noon 09, Food and Fun.” Anyone, veteran or not, is welcome to celebrate Veterans Day this year at post 8241.

It’s no mystery who’s cooking. Roast beef, mashed potatoes, and green beans are on Clark’s menu, and he hopes a member of the women’s auxiliary will bring dessert. “I cooked for a hundred,” he says, “but I don’t expect that many.”

Then, for the first time in an hour, the phone rings.

“Somebody wants me,” Clark says and turns to pick up the receiver.

“You’ll be here Wednesday?” he says. “Who’s this?”

(A VFW member identifies himself.)

“Oh, hi there. We welcome you. Bring as many as you can.”

(Clark hangs up the phone.)

“That guy never misses, as long as there’s something to eat,” he says, laughing.

Tags: Veteran's Day