More than 200 e-mails poured into The Star after Michael D. Smith, a 54-year-old Vietnam veteran from Gladstone, sent a stream of tobacco juice at the actress at a Plaza book signing Tuesday. Dozens expressed dismay. Many more, delight. “Spitting in Jane Fonda's face is every Vietnam vet's fantasy,” wrote a Phoenix man. “Bravo, Michael Smith. Bravo.” “Heartfelt thanks.” “Freedom of speech.” “Made my day.” “What a true American this man is!” There were bashers, too: “A Neanderthal.” “No sense of decency.” “Pathetic incident.” Still, fans of the spitter, from California to Cape Cod, appeared to outnumber those who condemned his action by about 3-to-1. The vitriol stems from Fonda's anti-war activities, particularly a 1972 visit to North Vietnam, where she was photographed at an anti-aircraft battery and visited American POWs, who she claimed were well-treated. She has never been forgiven. That anger over a war 30 years ago, which also surfaced in the 2004 presidential election, puzzles some. “Most of us who served in Vietnam have long ago resolved our issues of pain and blame and have gotten on with our lives,” said one e-mail signed by three Army veterans. But other vets, their spouses, mothers and daughters disagreed. One young GI fighting today's battles sent an e-mail from Fallujah, Iraq, congratulating Smith. Some said he should get the Medal of Honor; one suggested naming him citizen of the year. Thirty-two offered to cover his bail on the disorderly conduct charge. (Smith, who was jailed briefly Tuesday night, has said he will plead guilty. Fonda declined to press assault charges.)
“I got hundreds of letters from people — Vietnam vets, their families — all just furious. It lasted for a year and a half!” Snow said. “All of this because she climbed up onto that anti-aircraft gun. I think it has come to summarize all the frustrations of soldiers who served in that war.”
One well-circulated account of Fonda's trip involves her supposedly turning over to a North Vietnamese officer a fistful of messages given to her by American prisoners of war. But the story is folklore, Snow said, despite Internet versions that cite the allegations of a surviving POW named Col. Larry Carrigan.
“There is a real Colonel Carrigan, and he was a POW in Vietnam,” Snow wrote in a magazine column in late 2001. “But he has never met Jane Fonda, and he has no idea how the maddening tale attached itself to him.”
That message certainly has not reached many who recounted the story in their e-mail praise of Smith.
“Good for Mr. Smith. Jane Fonda is a traitor –– who aided and abetted the enemy at a time of war,” vented a Vietnam pilot. “She should be stood up against a wall and shot.”
Randy Barnett, a member of the Kansas City chapter of Vietnam Veterans of America, said the group had gotten about two dozen calls prior to Fonda's appearance in Kansas City, all looking to organize a protest. After the spitting incident, Barnett, said nearly as many veterans called offering to help pay any fine levied against Smith.
Barnett said the veterans group, which avoids political activity, passed on both counts.
“People need to stop thinking about what happened 35 years ago and spend time calling their congressmen and senators to protect veterans' benefits,” Barnett said. “All (Smith) did was give her a lot of free advertisement and sell a lot of her books.”
Fonda's activities beyond war protesting may also feed into support for the man who spat on her, said Hamilton Cravens, an Iowa State University professor of history and culture.
“I think some of it is that she is so liberated,” Cravens said. “All these women are more assertive now than when her father (Henry Fonda) was a kind of unassuming, conventional movie star. Jane Fonda has always put herself on that other side of the fence, and it's made a lot of men mad.
“She's someone who flaunts the system and gets away with it: rich, glamorous, guru of this, guru of that. She's like the Energizer bunny. She won't go down.”
So Smith spat. Some of those who thought it appropriate recounted stories of soldiers being spat on when they returned from Southeast Asia. Others suggested it was more appropriate to direct the anger toward Robert McNamara, the secretary of defense during the war.
And then there was Sabrina, born long after the war but witness to history.
“I was probably the only 10-year-old in Kansas City … to see Jane Fonda when Mr. Smith spit,” Sabrina wrote.
“I went there because I love the movie ‘Cat Ballou.' She didn't sign my book till after Mr. Smith spit on her.”
To her, “even if Mr. Smith did not agree with Ms. Fonda, it doesn't mean that he can disrespect someone.”
Sabrina asks: How can a country survive with so much hate?
