LOGAN SQUARE — Barry Romo, a longtime Logan Square community member, Vietnam war veteran, volunteer and activist, died this month at 76.
Romo, who had lived in Logan Square near Palmer Square Park since 2003, was a fixture in the veteran community, always helping others and fighting for social justice causes like affordable housing, veteran homelessness prevention and workplace fairness, said longtime friend Roberto Clack.
Romo died of a heart attack inside his home May 1, Clack said.
Romo’s two children declined to be interviewed, but his son, Kyle Copeland, said in a statement through Clack that he was grateful to spend his father’s last moments by his side.
“Barry’s health had been declining, and [Copeland] had really stepped up, making sure he visited every month,” Clack said. “I know it was a lot for him, but I know his son has a lot of gratitude in being able to be there for his father.”
Romo’s friends and the Vietnam veteran community at large are mourning the loss of the activist and mentor, who had a rich history and deep love for Logan Square.
Romo was a member of Vietnam Veterans Against the War for over 50 years and participated in many of the organization’s major events nationwide, Clack said. His military service and activism were featured in The History Channel’s 2011 documentary, “Vietnam in HD.”
After graduating high school, Barry enlisted in the Army in 1966. He was sent to Vietnam in 1967 and served there until May 1968, first as an infantry platoon leader and subsequently as a first lieutenant and battalion staff officer. He was awarded for his heroism, according to the veteran organization.
In May 1968, Romo’s nephew, Robert, was killed at Dong Ha, and Romo escorted his body home to Rialto, California, ending his military service in Vietnam. He then commanded an Infantry Vietnam Training Company at Fort Ord, California, before being honorably discharged in January 1969.
Romo’s nephew’s death stayed with him for the rest of his life, changing his perspective on the war, he told the Tribune in 1996. It fueled his protest work as he became an anti-war activist.
“My mind started to change when I could see the people didn’t give a damn, our allies didn’t want to fight and senior officers flew around in helicopters while we ran around the jungle with barely enough water to drink,” Romo told Chicago Tribune in 1996, according to the Washington Post. “My nephew’s death made me face the reality I was killing people for all the wrong reasons.”
Romo organized and participated in Chicago anti-war protests and speaking engagements at local schools about his military service and the importance of activism. In letters to Romo shared with Vietnam Veterans Against the War, Chicago students thanked him for opening their eyes to the truths of war.
“For every guy that is killed, there are seven wounded,” Romo said in a 2003 Tribune article about veterans protesting the United States’ involvement in Iraq. “We have people filling [veterans’] hospitals. It’s just not going to go away.”
Romo worked at a post office near O’Hare for nearly 40 years and was a union steward and president of the National Postal Mail Handlers Union, where he helped defend his coworkers’ rights, Clack said.
“I have so many memories with him. I really loved him,” said Clack, who met Romo in 2007. “He showed a lot of respect for people in a lot of different walks of life, whether they were immigrants, his African-American coworkers. … He got along well with people from the LGBTQ community.
“People have so much gratitude for how nice, respectful and how thoughtful he was. That’s something I’m going to aspire to for the rest of my life. He was adored by a big cross-section of people in the city.”
Romo volunteered with the Harold Washington mayoral campaign, the Metropolitan Tenants Organization, the Chicago Homeless Veterans Standdown and more, Clack said.
Romo loved walking around Logan Square and going to music and art shows at Rosa’s Lounge, Cole’s Bar, the Montrose Saloon and more, his friends said. He was a regular at Taqueria Moran and Quenchers before it closed in 2018 and became a medical office.
“If there was a show that somebody was having, he was there,” said mentee and friend Aaron Hughes, an artist and former Illinois Army National Guard member who served in Kuwait and Iraq in 2003 and 2004.
Hughes credits Romo for creating a space to talk about serving in the military and processing the trauma it causes for veterans. Clack, Hughes and other friends would often meet Romo Friday mornings after his night shift at the post office for Breakfast with Barry at Taqueria Moran — a tradition that will be deeply missed, his friends said.
Romo always footed the bill, they said.
“He’d be finishing a long day of work and we were just starting, so while he’d be having a beer, we were having coffee,” Hughes said. “He mentored and cared for, guided and loved a lot of people in that space to process for veterans. For me, there’s not a lot of spaces for veterans who are extremely conflicted about their military experiences to languish about that and process it in a way that’s geared toward social justice and activism.”
Hughes said he’s grateful to Romo for being a mentor and a model of how to transform trauma into action for justice. His “working-class intellectualism” combined with his belief that everyone should have fun are qualities that are staying with Hughes, he said.
“He was like an encyclopedia. He was well-read on everything, so you could ask, ‘Hey, have you ever read about this?’ and he would say, ‘Yeah, there’s this book, and oh, by the way, I have a copy, you should take it.’ He was full of knowledge, but he was humble about it,” Hughes said. “As hard and intense as life and activism can be, he always encouraged everyone to have fun, to party together, to hang out and to bring art into activism.”
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