On a cold Monday night, the first of December, Jason, Mike and I rode up to Blue Ridge, Georgia, so we’d be on time for an early-morning  television interview. By the time we packed Mike’s truck, it was 7 PM, and we were plenty hungry. We thought we might catch a bite to eat on the way, but when we hit Hw 575, it started snowing.  So, we decided not to stop until we got to Elijah. Lucky for us, the snow subsided and we reached Blue Ridge around 8:30. Covered in snow, the little mountain town reminded me of a scene right out of Currier and Ives.

After throwing a few snowballs at one another, we checked into our mountain hotel and then headed straight to Pizza Hut to appease our ravenous appetites. The next morning, we were up bright and early for a TV interview about Last Bullet and Tin Roof Films. Later, we spoke to the Blue Ridge Rotary Club, and then in the afternoon we ventured to the Old Courthouse where the premier viewing of Last Bullet would be held that night. As with the “best laid plans of mice and men,” there was a snafu. This time it was the projector screen—too small. Thanks to the ingenuity of Jason and Brad, a Blue Ridge local, the problem was solved with a ladder, clips and a large white sheet. After that, we took a break and visited nearby Copper Hill, so-named because of its copper mines. It also was the setting for many scenes in the movie October Sky.

Before long, it was 6:45 and time for the Premier. Electric with anticipation, we watched as the audience trickled in and took their seats. Several decorated Viet Nam Veterans greeted us and shook our hands. We grew frantic by the minute.  Our film had a lot to live up to. We hoped our film would do justice to those who served our country, and to those who gave up their lives for us. I felt humbled by those former soldiers who suffered so much for our country.  But, it was too late to turn back, so after Bobby Don, a local singer, sang two poignant songs dedicated to the veterans, we flipped off the lights and started the film.

For twelve minutes, we were suspended in time, as we watched two young soldiers caught in a brutal conflict. We were in the fox hole with Shane and Matt, and wondered why fate had put us there.  Along with Matt, we lifted our gazes to the sky, hoping against hope, to escape the hell in which we had been cast. Then, suddenly the movie was over and the credits began to roll. The silence was overwhelming as the reality of the evening rushed over us.  Men who had actually experienced the horrors of war were watching our film.

There was not a sound from the audience until someone switched the lights back on. “So, what do you think?” Jason asked, his voice breaking with emotion.

And then it came. The Reaction.

“That was one of the most realistic portrayals of the Viet Nam War I’ve seen,” said Jimmy, a seasoned vet with a full white beard.