FAIRLAWN: Bob Atchison came to the wall Friday to remember lost friends.But finding them in an expansive list of names wasn’t all that easy.“I know faces,” said Atchison, 64, as he searched among the more than 58,000 engravings.He knew people as “Zero,” and “Urd,” and “Smitty.”“Real names? You know, it’s been awhile,” he said.Atchison, a Marine in Vietnam from February 1968 to March 1969, is expected to be one of thousands who will search the traveling three-quarter size replica of the Vietnam memorial as it rests in Fairlawn this weekend.The Dignity Memorial Vietnam Wall is on display through Monday morning on West Market Street between the Catavolos Funeral Home and Rose Hill Burial Park in Fairlawn.Atchison, a retired machinist from Boston Township, has never seen the actual memorial on the mall in the nation’s capital. This was his attempt to reconnect with comrades who lost their lives four decades ago.“I know nicknames,” he said. He searched Friday morning and wondered if the Robert Smith on the wall was his “Smitty.”Still, though, the Vietnam wall had the expected impact on the former Marine as he walked along the thousands of names.“It is something that can’t be explained,” he said. “It is a hard part of the past.”Marine veteran Joe Seiler, 58, and his wife Donna, 57, of Munroe Falls, had a similar feeling.“The names just go on and on,” said Donna Seiler, a retired Stow Police Department dispatcher.She thought about all the people who were related to each name.“They had parents, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles,” she said. “It is just really overwhelming.”Joe Seiler, a Giant Eagle employee, said the memorial creates a “gloomy” mood. “It puts your life in perspective.”On display are Vietnam photographs taken by Army veteran John Fribley Hosier Jr., 65, of St. Louis, who was wounded in Vietnam and later served as an Army combat photographer.He established a nonprofit called Through The Eyes to support the exhibit, which also includes weapons and uniforms.“There’s a story behind each picture,” Hosier said, but in many cases the story is unknown. He pointed to one of a soldier standing near an elephant bone,“I have no idea where he is from, what his name is or if he is on the wall,” Hosier said.Nonetheless, it’s therapeutic. Good things happen.“Every weekend I set up, there are tears and there are new guys I meet,” he said.The same goes for Army Vietnam veteran Wayne Jones, 61, of Whitwell, Tenn., who for the last six years has driven the truck for the memorial.“It is a healing thing,” said the retired long-distance truck driver. “There are veterans who never buried this.”He has friends among the thousands of names.“Yes sir, I got four,” he said.He points to the name of Spc. 4 Frank W. Jealous-of-Him, a Sioux Indian from Wounded Knee, S.D., who was killed at the age of 22 on June 9, 1969.“It eats you from the inside out.”But being around the wall and the people “is good medicine for me,” he said.When the wall is packed and loaded on his truck and travels from town to town, he has a good feeling caring for the panels with the names of those who died in the war in which he served.“They ride with me everywhere,” he said.“There are over 58,000 of them. That’s a lot of passengers.”Jim Carney can be reached at 330-996-3576 or at jcarney@thebeaconjournal.com.