Dear Ann Landers,
hen I first arrived in Vietnam in July 1968,1 was a supply officer for an artillery battery. My clerk was an enlisted man. His name was Kevin Howard Dugan. He was from Blue Point, N.Y. Kevin was extremely kind and helpful to this young, apprehensive first lieutenant. He was rather shy at first, but after a while, he opened up and was one of the friendliest and nicest guys I had ever met. He was low-key, understated and extremely competent. Kevin never forgot a thing. We were stationed at an isolated post, miles from the nearest city, and spent many long hours discussing New York, the Army and sports and, of course, talked endlessly about the meaning of life, death and war. After 50 days, I was transferred to another artillery battery in a town 17 miles away. Three weeks later, Kevin was coming to pick up sup-plies, and we planned to get together. I waited. Kevin never showed up. He was not a guy who would just fold out. I worried and thought about him a lot. I never heard from him again. Last week as I stood in front of the Vietnam War Memorial in Washington, I prayed that Kevin's name would not be there, but of course, it was. It is now 20 years later, and I want to let Kevin's parents know that their son is remembered by this lieutenant as a kind, loving young man who went out of his way to be helpful. Everyone who worked with him respected his competence and will-ingness to do more than was expected. Kevin would have made a terrific husband and father. What a shame that he never lived long enough to enhance the lives of so many peo- pie. His parents are aware of all this, of course, but I hope they will see my letter and get some pleasure out of knowing how much their son was admired and respected by all the men he served with. Please, Ann, help me convey this message to Kevin's parents through your column. Thank you. -Gil Noble, Vista, Calif.

Dear Gil,
I called the Blue Point, N.Y., long-distance operator in search of a relative of Kevin Howard Dugan. I spoke with several Dugans in that area. None was related to or knew Kevin Howard Dugan. I hope someone out there will recognize the name and alert Kevin's parents to your kind letter. If it happens, I'd love to know. Someone did recognize the name, and what happened next kept Ma Bell busy. Dear Readers: Gil Noble wrote to me after he had been to the Viet-nam Memorial in Washington. His fears about what had become of his friend Kevin Dugan were confirmed when he saw Dugan's name. He wanted to let Kevin's folks know that their son was one of the nicest guys he had ever met-competent, admired and respected by all the men he served with. A great many people write and ask me to help locate sons, daughters, sweethearts, first-grade teachers and college roommates. I respectfully decline, explaining that this is not what the column is for. But this request was different. Here was an officer who wanted to tell the parents of a soldier who was killed what a wonderful guy he was. I simply couldn't pass up the opportunity to bring some pleasure to a family that had suffered such a devastating loss. I printed Lt. Gil Noble's letter and told him that I had phoned the long-distance operator and obtained the numbers of several Dugans in the area of Blue Point, N.Y., which Noble remembered as the young man's home, but none was related to nor did they know a Kevin Howard Dugan. I had done my best and wished him luck. The morning the column appeared in print, I was vacationing in Connecticut. My office phoned to tell me that Kevin's mother had read the column and was trying to reach me. She does indeed live in Blue Point, N.Y., but had been widowed and remarried. Her name is now Mrs. Anne Dugan Brown. In a wonderfully excited voice, Anne Brown told me that she was still in bed when phone calls about the column started to come in. Within half an hour she had heard from people in three states. Anne and I spoke for a long time. She has a son, Terry, 10 years older than Kevin. Terry, like Kevin, is 6 foot 5, and both boys loved to play basketball. Anne also has three daughters, 14 grandchildren and two great-grands. The missing link was Gil Noble. But not for long. Terry Dugan got Noble's phone number from information in Vista, Calif., and called him up. He ran into Gil Noble's answering machine. Noble, now a business teacher, and his family were vacationing in Hawaii. But a neighbor of Gil's was checking the machine periodically and relaying the messages. Within hours Terry Dugan received a call from Noble. (Friends in Vista had seen the paper, and at least 20 ex-cited pals had called to alert Noble to Ann Landers' column.) What excitement! Noble also got Anne Brown's phone number and called her from Hawaii. Everyone was thrilled that the lieutenant had at long last located Kevin Dugan's mother. I confess that I was as thrilled as anybody. What a privilege to have been able to brighten the life of this lovely woman whose handsome son had been cut down at such a tender age. And I made the lieutenant happy, too. "He was walking on air," Anne told me. "We exchanged addresses and telephone numbers, and I'm sure we will get together one day." Stories like this one validate the goodness of people. It proves what I have known for a very long time-that most folks are pretty darned OK, and if given the opportunity, they can be downright wonderful. What better evidence than this heartwarming story that came full cir-cle after 20 years?