Memorial Day 2006

I only set out to get a cup of coffee at the nearest 7-Eleven this Memorial Day morning. My usual routine. Nothing special about the day for me. Too many dead from wars for me to acknowledge this day set aside for the dead soldiers of the American wars.
Of course my choice of bringing Hubert Laws’ cd that included his version of “Amazing Grace” probably wasn’t an accident. Some say there are no such things as accidents. I’m not that certain but I do believe we have unconscious moments of doing things for certain reasons.
As the flute of Hubert Laws started with the song, my emotions got the better of me. This was the same song, same version I had played at the site where we’d taken the ashes of both my parents in the mountains of Colorado.
How many years it’s been since I’ve had parents alive. It seems forever.
I heard a friend talk to her parents this morning and was envious. I realized I miss those conversations with my mom. I miss those times working together with my dad.
Then, my mind went to Vietnam. As it always does. Ft. Logan National Cemetery is less than two miles from the 7-Eleven. I drove my car in that direction. “Amazing Grace” continued to play loudly in my car. Three military jets made a low flyover at the moment I reached the top of the hill overlooking Bear Valley and the cemetery below.
My mind went back to low flying jets dropping napalm bombs that tumbled into tree lines in 1968. The trees erupted into huge columns of flame and thick black smoke. Later, the next day I’d walk through the village next to the tree line.
I’ve told this story thousands of times now and somehow it never gets old and never changes. It’s always the same result. Children charred beyond recognition. Body parts in trees burned black. Blackened areas on the ground where the thatch homes of peasants once housed families.
These are scenes that never leave the mind or the conscience of combat participants. What purpose did we achieve with the horrifying deaths of those children? What honor is there to say I walked through a village of peasants destroyed by an awful weapon of war?
I see the American flag and the red reminds me of blood but not an honorable spilling of blood for higher causes. Just the unnecessary blood spilled of sons and daughters of America and all the nations still unable to refrain from barbaric solutions to differences.
I saw a bumper sticker two or three days ago that read “I’m proud to be an American”. My wife can testify to the anger these words elicited from me. I can’t be proud to be an American. I love this country but I’m not proud of it. It has such potential for good but continues to offset that good with murderous wars perpetrated by callous and uncaring humans.
Memorial Day. Like the 4th of July, I hate the holiday. I’m so very tired of being reminded of the dead from wars of America. I’m tired of pretending we live in a democracy that’s home of the brave and land of the free. All I have to do is go to the nearest city or county jail and ask the inmates why they’re incarcerated. All I have to do is look at their color.
Or I can go next door and find immigrants that have come here to work but don’t have the documents they’re supposed to have. Ilegals. I can’t find the words to describe the revulsion I feel to know my country labels humans as illegal.
I can’t find words to describe my anger seeing young men and women imprisoned for the horror of addictions. Poor and oppressed young people imprisoned for possession of a substance used to numb themselves to the injustices they face.
I guess the addictions of my two sons may be a reason it hurts me so much. I know the pain behind the numbing of the body and soul to the depression of life in a country that fails so many people.
I arrived at a turn off near the fence of the cemetery. The flute of Hubert Laws still played the haunting song of redemption. Will I find amazing grace to save a fool like me? I never feel like I will. I can only think of those days of napalm and firefights.
There’s a line in the movie “Apocalypse Now” when a character says, “I love the smell of napalm in the morning”. It captures the mindset of what it takes to be in combat. You have to give up all the moral values learned as a child. Reality comes quick and with such force it leaves you sobbing and gasping. It takes away part of the soul.
I looked across the rows of the headstones in the cemetery and thought of the young men I saw killed or never saw die after they left with horrible wounds. I recalled the death of my company commander and the tears of embittered and hardened combat veterans. I remembered my friend, Joey, who went to North with me.
The song ended and I pushed a button to play it again. My tears became sobs. I can’t let go of the thought there seems to be no end to this insanity.
Two months ago I spent five days with veterans, family members of children in war, family members who had children killed in our wars and survivors of Hurricane Katrina abandoned by my country.
I heard so many stories that seemed to be the same story that’s been running in my head for thirty eight years. Same story, different characters, different places, different weapons. Same result.
The past week has been filled with information of Marines brutally killing innocent civilians in retaliation for the death of one of their comrades. People around the world are outraged. American people deny this is what normally happens in wars. We’re the “good guys”.
By now the photos of dead children have lost their impact on me. There’s so many it’s difficult to sort each individual out and think of them as the child of a grieving family.
I see a race horse break its leg in a rich man’s sport and I can’t get the image out of my head for days. What the fuck’s wrong with me?
What the fuck’s wrong with this country? We keep coming back to the cemeteries time after time with our tears and our thoughts of despair but we don’t stop the madness.
We put flowers on the graves and tidy up the plot of loved ones but do little or nothing to stop the killing of babies. Genocide, homicide, suicide, matricide, patricide….what the fuck is going on in this world that we can’t stop killing?
Willie Dixon had a song with the lyric,” it don’t make sense we can’t find peace”. He sang about all the potential and many achievements of humans but couldn’t understand why we can’t find peace.
For mothers and fathers with dead children every day is Memorial Day. For children seeing parents brutally killed by bombs bursting in air, each day is a day of remembering. For soldiers and Marines left to live, the memories of death and violence never leave. They remember far too well what they are responsible for doing or not doing.
We don’t need days of memories followed by days of continued death and destruction anymore. We never needed them.
We need to stop having children killing children. We need to spare parents staying up late at night dreading phone calls or knocks on doors. We need to quit numbing our minds to the photos of dead babies.
The song goes, “I once was lost, but now am found;Was blind, but now I see..” What amazing grace it would be for us to finally see


Terry Leichner
Denver, CO

Malcolm X, a Voice Still Needed

Had he lived, Malcolm X would be 81 today.
Malcolm was the loud and outraged voice against injustice and oppression. He made us uncomfortable with his fiery rhetoric and impassioned thinking.
Malcolm is often portrayed or mentioned as an angry and violent black man. One of his remarks included the phrase, “by any means necessary”. This fragment of his remark is often cited as proof this was a violent man.
The entire quote was, “We declare our right on this earth…to be a human being, to be respected as a human being, to be given the rights of a human being in this society on this earth by any means necessary.”
These words stand the test of time today as they did when he said them. We look at our current society and hear the ugly hate of the Minutemen and Tom Tancredo about Mexican nationals entering the U.S. without documents.
These people who cross into this country for a better life are made out to be criminals and illegals. Few think of them as humans seeking a life better than the poverty left behind in Mexico or wherever they may come from.
I think of Malcolm’s words in context of the people of Iraq. Possibly over 250,000 Iraqis have died since the pre-emptive war perpetrated by George W. Bush and his regime. Close to half of those killed were children. And, today Iraq is less safe than the time of the dictatorship of Saddam Hussein who was funded for many years by American tax dollars.
The dead of Iraq since March 2003 were human beings who deserved to be treated and respected as human beings. The possible million deaths during sanctions from 1991 until 2003 were human beings. A large number were babies and younger children.
Today’s headlines tell of U.S. Marines killing innocent civilians in “cold blood” in Haditha, Iraq.
As in My Lai, the story says one of the Marines had been killed earlier in the day. As in My Lai, the Marines sought retribution and failed to distinguish between the innocent and those who violently fought them.
The citizens of the United States have tired of this war the polls say. A big reason is the cost. Not the human cost but the financial cost. Many, probably the majority, still hold a racist view of Iraqis and humans of Middle East heritage.
Words like “camel jockeys” and “sand niggers” are the more vile things heard. But, even in conversation with Americans thought to be moderate or liberal the words “those people” are heard.
Americans can’t understand “those people”. How could they possibly strap themselves with explosives to commit suicide and homicide they ask? They call them “fanatics” and “crazies” because they resist the American occupation alleged to have a goal of helping the Iraqis.
“"Concerning nonviolence, it is criminal to teach a man not to defend himself when he is the constant victim of brutal attacks." Malcolm X said.
What American wouldn’t resist an occupying force coming to Denver or Des Moines or New York City? Is it unreasonable to think Iraqis might see the brutality of cruise missiles, artillery and tank fire as an attack on their country and them and their families?
Today’s headlines also tell of a riot in the Guantanamo gulag. Prisoners living in conditions of sensory deprivation, lack of privacy and sanctioned torture fought American guards who tried preventing the 4th suicide attempt of the day.
“Human rights are something you were born with. Human rights are your God-given rights. Human rights are the rights that are recognized by all nations of this earth.”
Today, as in Malcolm’s day, human rights aren’t recognized by all nations of this world. The United States of America continues in the ranks of nations lacking humanity for all.
We can also look to New Orleans to have this confirmed. The people in the area Hurricane Katrina destroyed know they were abandoned and treated as less than human. For a brief 15 minutes of media time, so did the rest of the nation.
Seven months later New Orleans and the Gulf region remain much the same. Only half the population still lives in New Orleans. Most of the black community has been dispersed across the U.S.
Developers lust over the possibilities of gentrifying the neighborhoods destroyed. There will be no New Orleans to come back to for many of the poorer citizens. Most from the black community.


“Power in defense of freedom is greater than power in behalf of tyranny and oppression, because power, real power, comes from our conviction which produces action, uncompromising action.”

Today, this 81st anniversary of Malcolm X’s birth, we face harsh choices because we face tyranny and oppression on an unprecedented level in this country. The U.S. lost its final illusion of democracy in a weakly contested coup during the 2000 Presidential election.
No shots were fired before the coup de tat happened. And since September 11, 2001, Americans have freely given up their rights to the un-elected President’s regime. In the name of homeland security, spying on the American people has been officially endorsed. Torture has been officially endorsed. The rules of habeas corpus and the right to a trial have been lost if so dictated by the regime.
The American reaction has been inaction. Fear rules. The people say “if you have nothing to hide, you shouldn’t be bothered by the spying.” People say, “I have the right to be safe and if that takes our government listening to our phone calls or spying on us, that’s ok.”
Fear. More fear. More and more fear. Fear keeps the masses in line and in control.
The mass media is used as a tool to instill even more fear through slanted news coverage and fictional stories of disasters and threats. The people are numbed to the plight of anybody but themselves.
The conviction to produce uncompromising action lies in only a few. Just as it was when Malcolm was alive. Just as it was when Malcolm was assassinated. Just as it was when Gandhi and Martin Luther King were assassinated.
Alleged progressives and liberals still believe the system works and work feverishly to elect politicians complicit with the coup in the first place. They tell us we must carry on a civil dialogue with the uncivil tyrants. They dream up trivializing tactics that hide the outrage we should have against the oppression. Oppression isn’t fun nor can it be made to seem that way as we struggle against it.
Once again it will fall to the impoverished, the marginalized and the betrayed of American society to struggle in uncompromising action against the tyranny.
The privileged and the aspiring privileged will fight to keep mortgaged lifestyles. They will be slaves of the capitalist system that doesn’t recognize human beings. They will be tools of a system that doesn’t respect human rights. And in the end they too will be betrayed.
Already, this aspiring privileged class has lined up the scapegoats of their betrayal. “Illegal immigrants” are stealing jobs from Americans. Duped Americans believe this fiction while corporate America eliminates employment and pensions and replaces the American worker with “offshore” workers.
The workers are exploited for low wages and no benefits. USA, Inc. plunders the world for record profits. The American worker loses homes, cars and the American dream thinking it’s the “wetbacks” and “illegals” that are responsible for the loss. Even in betrayal uncompromising action isn’t on the schedule.
The voice of Malcolm X is missed now more than ever.


Terry Leichner, RN
VVAW

More stories of PTSD and Atrocity

In many headlines today there’s a story about a massacre “in cold blood” in the Iraq town of Haditha back in November 2005. This massacre perpetrated by Marines isn't a new story. It's the story of war. Not just this war, not just Vietnam but all wars.
We take young men and women into our military, indoctrinate them to see citizens of the countries we send them to as hostile, provide them lethal weapons, tell them their unit, their fellow Marines or soldiers are their family and send them to countries without knowledge of culture and clear reasons for fighting. How can we expect anything else to happen??
You would have to be in combat and have one of your "family" members killed to truly understand how the massacre could happen. I don't condone it but I understand it, which is sad for me. I can envision the exact scenario in my mind, unfortunately.
If you think walking away from such a scene of “cold-blooded” murder leaves no scar or problems of conscience read the following story of a Marine that spent time in Fallujah when he returned to the U.S.
We can't allow old men and women to lie to us about the situation in the world and then send our youth to kill in our name...in the name of "freedom". If we want to point the finger of responsibility at the Marines or the soldiers who've killed mercilessly we must also point the finger at ourselves.
We, who sit home and only occasionally express our outrage, are no less culpable than those who put yellow ribbons on the back end of their cars and wave flags and those we send to kill.
For most Americans the war and its effects are but a blip in their daily life. Watching football or the reality programs are the center of many of their lives.
I abhor the atrocities that our young people inflict upon innocent people but when I start pointing a finger of responsibility it will start at the White House, the Congress and the apathetic American public before it will go upon the troops. If we ask someone to kill in our name, we'd better accept some responsibility for the results.
If we oppose the policy of such endeavors as the recent polls indicate, where the hell are the outraged people in the streets? Why are we satisfied with rallies and marches when it's said the world's survival is at stake?
I also keep asking myself where the clergy and the so-called moral leaders are in these times of a culture of violence and death.
The silence coming from the pulpits of the American clergy is staggering. While the Rev. Martin Luther King led people in the streets against oppression, there is hardly a dissenting word from the churches of America today. It saddens me there's such a vacuum of leadership that when we think of the peace movement there's little or no involvement of the Judeo-Christian churches.
While I think each individual is responsible for their actions, I know in a combat situation the individuals are secondary to the whole. The military is the greatest example of mob mentality in wartime. But the true mob is the American people, pumped up by patriotic rhetoric and instilled with fear, allowing their sons and daughters to go off to such insanity.
Mothers and fathers cry and grieve every day in this world as a result of our laziness and apathy. Being nice, being polite, and being less than outraged is not acceptable.
We can't continue to allow the massacres to happen while trying to politely protest the atrocities. The men and women who sent our sons and daughters to war count on the timidity and passivity of the public to achieve goals of domination and oppression.
And their goals are being achieved. And they've redefined torture as being legal. They've redefined our freedoms and liberty as being less than free. They've redefined patriotism as being blind and ignorant compliance. And, unless we act, they’ll redefine our world as we know it.

Terry Leichner
VVAW

-----Original Message-----From: vvawnet-bounces@vvaw.org [mailto:vvawnet-bounces@vvaw.org] On Behalf Of Vietnam Veterans Against the WarSent: Friday, May 19, 2006 7:16 AMTo: vvawnet@vvaw.orgSubject: [vvawnet] Marine Is at Home, but Not at Ease: When he looks at the image that made him a wartime icon, he sees the start of his mental decline



-------- Original Message --------
Subject: Marine Is at Home, but Not at Ease: When he looks at the image
that made him a wartime icon, he sees the start of his mental decline.
Date: Thu, 18 May 2006 22:36:06 -0700
From: Horace W Coleman <hcoleman4@juno.com>
To: vvaw@vvaw.org




As a Marine Corps lance corporal, Blake Miller was with the 1st Marine
Battalion, 8th Regiment, during the assault on the insurgent stronghold
of Fallouja, Iraq, in November, 2004, when this picture was taken.
Filthy and exhausted, he had just lighted a cigarette when an embedded
photographer captured this image, which transformed Miller into an icon
of the war in Iraq. He now suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder.
(Luis Sinco / LAT)



http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/nation/la-na-marlboro19may19,0,4643056.story?coll=la-home-headlines

//
/From the Los Angeles Times/


COLUMN ONE


At Home, but Not at Ease



By David Zucchino
Times Staff Writer

8:07 PM PDT, May 18, 2006

JONANCY, Ky. — Growing up in Jonancy Bottom, where coal trucks grind
their gears as they rumble down from the ragged green hills, Blake
Miller always believed there were only two paths for him: the coal mines
or the Marine Corps. He chose the Marines, enlisting right out of high
school.

The Marines sent him to Iraq, and then to Fallouja, where his life was
forever altered. He survived a harrowing all-night firefight in November
2004, pinned down on a rooftop by insurgents firing from a nearby house.
Filthy and exhausted, he had just lighted a Marlboro at dawn when an
embedded photographer captured an image that transformed Blake into an
icon of the Iraq war.

His detached expression in the photo seemed to signify different things
to different people — valor, despair, hope, futility, fear, courage,
disillusionment. For Blake, the photograph represents a pivotal moment
in his life: an instant when he feared he would never see another
sunrise, and when his psychological foundation began to fracture.

Blake, whose only brush with celebrity was as a star quarterback in high
school, became known as the Marlboro Man, a label he detests. That same
notoriety has carried over into his post-Iraq life, where he is an icon
of sorts for another consequence of the war — post-traumatic stress
disorder, or PTSD.

On Nov. 10, precisely one year after the photograph was flashed around
the world, Lance Cpl. James Blake Miller was medically discharged from
the Marine Corps, diagnosed with full-blown PTSD. Three years after
leaving the Kentucky hills for a career in the Corps, he was back home.
He feels adrift and tormented, dependent on his new bride, his family
and his military psychiatrist to help him make sense of all that has
befallen him.

He barely sleeps. On most mornings, Blake says, he has no good reason to
get out of bed. Often, his stomach is so upset that he can't eat. He has
nightmares and flashbacks. He admits that he's often grouchy and
temperamental. He knows he drinks and smokes too much.

"He's not the same as before," said Blake's wife, Jessica, who has known
him since grade school. "I'd never seen the anger, the irritability, the
anxiety."

Blake says he feels guilty about taking money — $2,528 in monthly
military disability checks — for doing nothing. Yet he's also frustrated
that two careers made possible by his military training, police officer
or U.S. marshal, are out of reach because law enforcement is reluctant
to hire candidates with PTSD.

So he broods, feeling restless and out of options: "I'm only 21. I'm
able-bodied as hell, yet I'm considered a liability. It's like I had all
these doorways open to me, and suddenly they all closed on me. It's like
my life is over."

At a local restaurant one night last month, Blake became enraged when he
thought a man was staring at Jessica's rear end.

"I just wanted to grab his hair and smash his head against the table,"
he said later. "I was ready to kill him." But he restrained himself, he
said.

Jessica's grandmother, Willa Fouts, whom Blake calls Mamaw, patted his
arm outside the restaurant and told him: "You've had a few episodes like
that, Blake, where you're just so quick to anger. You need to try to
calm yourself."

Jessica, who graduates this spring from Pikeville College with a
psychology degree, has persuaded her husband to undergo visualization
techniques in which she helps him confront his demons.

"It's understandable that Blake has PTSD, after all he's been through,"
she said. "Ordinary people can't comprehend what it's like to be
constantly shot at and have to kill other human beings. They need to
know what it means to send people like Blake out to fight wars. You're
going to have a lot of people breaking."

Five other members of his platoon of about three dozen have been
diagnosed with PTSD, Blake said. A dozen men from his unit were killed
in action. A Journal of the American Medical Assn. study published in
March found that more than a third of troops who served in Iraq sought
help for mental health problems within a year of returning home.

Sitting in the couple's spacious apartment above a furniture store
outside Pikeville, Ky., Jessica squeezed Blake's hand and told him:
"You've gone through so much, baby, that you just broke."

------------------------------------------------------------------------


Blake was staring at the sunrise. He was on a rooftop in Fallouja,
sucking on a Marlboro and wondering whether he would live to see Jessica
and his father and brothers again.

Luis Sinco, a Times photographer, was crouched next to the corporal,
taking cover behind a rooftop wall. There was a break in the all-night
firefight after an Abrams tank, radioed in by Blake, destroyed a house
filled with insurgents.

Sinco pressed the shutter.

He did not consider the image particularly special. It was the last shot
he filed that day.

The photo appeared Nov. 10, 2004, and was distributed worldwide by the
Associated Press. More than 100 newspapers published it. TV and cable
networks aired feature stories about the Marine's lost, distant look.
Some noted the trickle of blood on his nose — caused not by enemy fire,
but by Blake's rifle sight when it bumped his face.

Blake was unaware that Sinco had photographed him. Two days later, he
recalled, his gunnery sergeant told him: "Miller, your ugly mug is on
the front page of all the newspapers back home, Marlboro Man."

The impact of the photo didn't fully register until a three-star general
showed up in Fallouja. Blake said the general suggested moving him out
of combat for fear that morale would plummet if anything happened to the
Marines' new media star, but he refused to leave. Later, President Bush
sent him a letter and a cigar.

When Jessica saw the photo on the front page of the local paper, she had
not heard from Blake in a week.

"I was glad to know he was alive, but I couldn't stop crying," she said.
"The scared look on his face, his eyes — it tore me up."

In early January 2005, as Blake's unit prepared to leave Iraq, what
Marines call a "wizard" — a psychiatrist — gave a required "warrior
transitioning" talk about PTSD and adjusting to home life. Blake didn't
think much about it until he returned to Jonancy in late January and his
nightmares began.

He dreamed about the 40 enemy corpses that he counted after the tank
demolished the house, he said, and that he had been shot.

"He'd jump out of bed and fall to the floor," Jessica said. "I'd have to
hold him to get him to wake up, and then he'd hug me for the longest time."

Sometimes, Blake mutters Arabic phrases he learned in Iraq or grimaces
in his sleep, and Jessica will keep whispering his name until he wakes
up. Some nights, he doesn't sleep at all.

"I tend to drink a lot just to be able to sleep," Blake said. "Nothing
else puts me to sleep."

He decided last summer to see a military psychiatrist at Camp Lejeune,
N.C., where he was based. In August, he was diagnosed with PTSD. But
before he could be put on "non-deployable status," his unit was sent to
New Orleans to assist with Hurricane Katrina recovery.

While aboard a ship off the Louisiana coast, Blake was taking a
cigarette break when a petty officer made a whistling sound like an
incoming rocket-propelled grenade. Blake says he remembers nothing about
the incident, but was later told that he slammed the officer against a
bulkhead and attacked him.

By November, Blake was forced to take a medical disability discharge.
"They said they couldn't take the risk of me being a danger to myself
and others," he said.

He fears that he may have another blackout. "It's terrifying that at any
moment I could lose control and not know what I'm doing," he said. "What
if next time it's Jessica?"

This February, while smoking a cigarette and staring out Jessica's dorm
room window, Blake said, he thought he saw a dead Iraqi man on the
grass. Later, he had visions of an Iraqi father and son fishing — a
scene he'd witnessed in Iraq just before a grenade exploded nearby.

"I can't tell any more what really happened and what I dreamed," he
said. "Sometimes I feel like I'm dying."

Blake visits a Veterans Administration psychiatrist in nearby West
Virginia and speaks with him by phone several times a week. He said his
psychiatrist told him that his PTSD has to be managed; his disability
will be reevaluated in March 2007.

Meanwhile, he has slowly turned against the war. "We've done some
humanitarian aid," Blake said, "but what good have we actually done, and
what has America gained except a lot of deaths? It burns me up."

Jessica, who sports an "I Love My Marine" sticker on her car, says she
and Blake are behind the troops though they no longer support the war.

The war seems far away in Pike County, a rural region where the median
annual household income is $24,000, far below the $42,000 national
average, and where people still brew moonshine and grow marijuana. The
Hatfields and McCoys fought their notorious feuds here.

Jonancy, just outside Pikeville and about 115 miles east of Lexington,
was named after Blake's great-great-grandparents, Joe and Nancy Miller.
Blake grew up in a hollow called Jonancy Bottom, in a one-story house
next to a creek, where the carcasses of old cars and motorcycles litter
the rear yard. His father, James, a mechanic who sells the parts, keeps
a faded yellow ribbon on the front door, not to be removed until the
last U.S. troops leave Iraq.

Blake is restless and talkative, a boyish young man who speaks with a
Kentucky twang. He will discuss Iraq only with Jessica, said Jessica's
grandfather, Hursel Fouts, known as Papaw.

"I don't think he should keep it bottled up, but I don't try to force
him to talk about what happened over there," Fouts said. His
brother-in-law, Hargis Fleming, a Vietnam veteran, opened up to Blake
about his wartime experiences after refusing to discuss them with anyone
for more than 30 years, Fouts said. Blake seemed buoyed by the encounter.

Blake's military service is literally written on his body; his unit's
motto, "Angels of Death," is tattooed on his right forearm. He had a
life-sized cigarette tattooed on his left forearm last year.

For Hillbilly Days, an annual street festival late last month in
Pikeville (pop. 6,304), Blake shaved his scruffy beard and got a
military "high and tight" haircut. He agreed to help at a Marine Corps
recruiting booth at the festival. Just putting on his Marine fatigue
pants and boots for the first time since his discharge brought back more
memories, and he tried to tamp them down.

He was so worried that the Marlboro Man photo would dominate the
recruiting booth that he begged the recruiters not to display it. He
also persuaded them to remove a large version of the photo that had hung
in the recruiting station in downtown Pikeville.

"I can't stand to look at it anymore," he said. Even so, he says the
photo has provided him a platform to try to educate others about PTSD.

At the festival, Blake's mood brightened as he chatted with the
recruiters. Wearing a Marine T-shirt with the message "Pain is Weakness
Leaving the Body," he was cheerful and animated. He playfully harangued
young men, challenging them to a pull-up contest.

Though he has turned against the war, he said, he often wishes that he
was back in the Corps and with his buddies. He still recommends the
Corps to potential recruits, but advises them that it's a job, not a way
of life. He recommends noncombat positions.

"In order to do your job in combat, you have to lock up your emotions,"
he said. "Basically, you're turning people into killers."

The three-day festival passed pleasantly. Blake worked the booth a few
hours a day, then took long strolls with Jessica. He smoked heavily — he
says he smoked up to six packs a day in Iraq and is down to a pack a
day — and in the evenings they shared cold Coronas with limes, an
unimaginable luxury in Iraq.

They discussed their visualization sessions, particularly one in which
Blake panicked after he visualized a hooded cloak hiding the
/teufelhund/ — the devil dog — a Marine Corps emblem.

"I want you to do it again, but I don't think you trust me enough,"
Jessica told him.

"I'd trust you with my life, baby," he said, "but I'm just not quite ready."

They talked of their upcoming June wedding. They were married by a
magistrate in June 2005, but want a formal ceremony. Blake plans to wear
his Marine dress blues.

They passed a sound stage, where Blake's former high school rock band
was performing.

The lead singer, Kevin Prater, spotted Blake and introduced him to the
crowd.

"He's one of the greatest people in the country," Prater said, inviting
Blake to perform. "He sacrificed for freedom for all of us."

Blake climbed on the stage and grabbed a guitar. He and the band
launched into a Merle Haggard song. With a Marine Corps cap perched on
his freshly shaved head and a Marlboro between his lips, he seemed
pleased and nearly at peace, at least for one night.

--
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Fighting for veterans, peace and justice since 1967

Story of PTSD (continued)

The first comment is a mom's response to the story of the soldier in Iowa that killed himself. The second comment is her response to my article. They both talk about her struggles with a son who has PTSD from his experience in the Marines.


From the mother's perspective, I am always asking myself, "am I doing enough?" This story hits so close to home. I think of all the times my son called me to tell me he had a gun in his mouth culminating to the driving the car at 120mph on a curvy road this last christmas, he survived but not even the state patrol could figure out how. He's living with me and is going to start college in a couple of weeks. I can't stop crying. I am so thankful he made it home alive both times, and so afraid he isn't going to survive the PTSD. He won't get help because he doesn't want it on his record. I don't know what to do.


Re: The Reality of PTSD on Communities

Very well said. When the Marines answer to my request for my son to get help was putting him on a graveyard shift on MP duty so he would have a sidearm, I went crazy. I felt like they were telling him to go ahead and finish the job.

Story of PTSD

This is one of the items posted in a group I'm a member of with vets, families, survivors of children killed and Katrina survivors. PTSD is a frequent topic. I'm also going to post the comments of a mom who is a member of the group. She responds to this article and to my article titled "The Reality of PTSD on Communities".
Terry Leichner, RN
VVAW

woke up this morning and grabbed the morning paper, I was surprised
and very saddened to see this very awakening headline, "War shadows
soldier home- then it kills" now I am on a quest to speak with this
family! here is a link to my hometown newspaper
www.globegazette.com ....here is the article:

GRUNDY CENTER — He always intended to be a policeman. To get there —
with his parents' guidance —Josh Omvig became a soldier.
"He was a nice young man," Ellen says.
A mother's pained love.
"He was a pretty straight arrow," Randy says.
A father's wounded joy.
They knew Josh experienced combat in Iraq as an Army reservist. By
connecting the dots, they concluded their son probably participated
vigorously. Too late, they realized the person they got back from
the war on terrorism was not the young man they sent.
Sadly, they say, post-traumatic stress disorder was only a vague
concept until they saw Josh's world unravel.
"In retrospect, we probably should have pushed harder," Randy says.
His tone conveys little confidence the couple actually believe they
could have saved their boy. As they see it, odds weighed heavily
against their son.
"I keep thinking about it," Randy says. "But it was a no-win
situation for Josh."
The soldier told his mother once he died in Iraq. But he kept living
for another year.
Burning desire
Josh, a former Boy Scout with a newspaper route, wanted to join the
military early. His parents refused to sign paperwork required of a
17-year-old and made him wait.
"It is an adult decision. It is seven years of your life," Randy
remembers telling his son.
Later, the couple insisted their son investigate several branches of
the armed forces before making a commitment. And they helped.
"Josh was pretty focused," Randy says.
He enlisted in the 339th Military Police Co. based in Davenport.
"When he signed up, they hadn't been activated in more than 30
years," Randy says.
The choice was logical for an aspiring policeman or sheriff's deputy.
"He figured the best way to get some experience was to go into the
reserves," Randy says.
Josh graduated a semester early from Grundy Center High School.
Within two days he was training at Fort Leonard Wood in Missouri.
The company deployed to Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, guarding suspected
members of al Qaida. But Josh was not yet ready. Meanwhile, he
enrolled in law enforcement courses at Hawkeye Community College.
"But sitting in the classroom was kind of tough on him," Randy says.
Josh seemed to enjoy much more the ride-alongs he arranged with
sheriff's deputies in Tama, Grundy and Hardin counties.
He liked the action part of it," Randy says.
Josh started working for a security company in Des Moines and became
a supervisor. He moved to Altoona.
In 2003, the soldiers in the 339th — back from Cuba — and Josh and
his parents anticipated what lay ahead.
"They kept telling them all summer, `You're going to be activated
real soon,' " Ellen says. "That went on for months."
Josh got ready, had his teeth checked and deposited DNA samples with
the military. Officials activated the 339th once again in December
2003 and the company deployed to Iraq in February 2004.
The soldiers' mission included guarding people and enemy munitions.
At times, they protected convoys. Shifts were 15 hours. Their camp
at one point was mortared daily.
Temperatures inside tents exceeded 100 degrees at night, Josh said,
and soldiers resorted to flea collars on their beds and around
ankles to stop the pests. But that didn't work too well, Ellen says,
because the toxic chemicals irritated the soldiers' skin.
"It was pretty rough conditions for them," Randy says.
At the time, the couple didn't know where their son was. They later
learned he served in the Sunni Triangle, a region northwest of
Baghdad and home to many of Saddam Hussein's most loyal followers.
The 339th worked out of a "a forward operating base," according to
the Omvigs. There were no showers and only sporadic electrical
service, Josh said. Telephone reception was poor and calls were
frequently interrupted.
Soldiers in the company encountered close combat in urban
conditions. Josh mentioned tall buildings crowding streets narrower
than H Avenue, where his parents lived in Grundy Center. Gunmen
would pop up in windows a few feet away from convoys. Josh indicated
a handgun might have been more effective than the grenade launcher
he manned.
Josh never talked about killing anyone, but said the 339th came
under fire. He was usually in the company's lead vehicle and "he was
their best shot," Randy says.
The couple received one letter from their son in 11 months. Josh
later said he was firing off notes every month. Josh also
occasionally skipped opportunities to call home, at least in part to
allow fellow soldiers with spouses and children access to available
phones.
"Another reason was he said it was too hard talking to us," Ellen
says.
Break in the action
On early September 2004, Josh returned to Grundy County for a few
days of rest and relaxation. He found little of either, according to
his parents.
"He shook for three days," Randy says.
He remained vigilant and seemed unable to let down his guard.
"He was in pretty bad shape when he got back," Randy says.
The effects were apparent enough that others noticed. One of Josh's
first desires was a meal at McDonald's. While there, the family
encountered a veteran of the Vietnam War.
The older man saw the jitters and addressed Josh.
"I know. It will get better. Thank you for your service," Ellen
remembers the man saying.
Josh only shared information about Iraq in one- or two-sentence
fragments at a time. But as they spent time together, his parents
learned driving presented perceived threats to the soldier. Deer
along the road. Headlights in the rearview mirror. Ordinary items,
like culverts, that to Josh represented hiding places.
"His head was on a pivot," Randy says.
While home, Josh withdrew periodically from family festivities.
"You've got to forgive me. But I can't be around people too much,"
Ellen remembers him saying.
But he was glad to be in Grundy Center.
"He kept saying, `I'm so happy to be home,' " Ellen says.
Randy remembers Josh taking time to smell flowers and touch leaves
still hanging on trees. He talked little about what he had
experienced. Peace eluded Josh, especially at night.
"Of course, you heard him. The bad dreams," Ellen says.
Their son would call out while sleeping, usually "No" or "Stop" or
some other military command.
"He didn't really want to go back. But he didn't want to leave his
buddies either," Randy says.
Josh fulfilled his obligation. He returned to Iraq after about 10
days.
"We just got him pretty well rested and fed," Ellen says.
The couple was concerned. Looking back, they realize they witnessed
the serious effects of combat-stress reaction.
"I'm fine. I can handle it. I've got it under control," Ellen
remembers Josh repeating several times.
"I didn't know enough," she adds.
"And he was putting on a pretty good act for us," Randy says.
Headed home
Josh completed his tour of duty in Iraq on his 21st birthday in
November 2004. He later told his parents the company expected to
spend three weeks in Kuwait. At another point, Josh believed he
would be at Fort McCoy in Wisconsin for three months.
In reality, the soldiers were in Iowa within a week.
As the Omvigs explain the transition, Josh "went from fifth gear to
first gear" in a few days.
For many troops returning to the United States, the fastest way out
is the preferred path. Though sick, Josh declined an opportunity to
visit the infirmary in Wisconsin.
Randy explains a soldier's option at that point.
"Do I say `yes' and have to stay, or do I say `no' and go home to my
family?"
When he arrived in Iowa, the next day was Thanksgiving. On Friday,
Josh returned to work in Des Moines.
Ellen and Randy knew their son was suffering. Josh, however,
continued to assert he could handle the situation. He expressed
concern that talking with an Army counselor, admitting a mental
health issue, conceding he needed help, would damage his career.
"We even tried to get him to go get private help that we would pay
for," Ellen says. "He said, `Nope. They will find out.' "
Ellen suggested seeking therapy by using an assumed name. Josh
rejected the idea, shocked his mother might condone lying.
The specifics about what troubled their son and to what extent
remained a mystery.
"You get short conversations," Ellen says. "Loving and kind. But
short."
Other veterans later told Randy and Ellen that Josh at times
appeared to want to discuss something. The veterans did not press
the issue, giving the soldier space to proceed at his pace. Josh
inevitably let the moments pass, the veterans said.
The security firm put out pink slips and Josh was out of work. He
moved into his parents' home in Grundy Center and — still
considering a career in law enforcement — enrolled at Ellsworth
Community College.
While waiting for classes to begin, Josh commuted to a part-time job
in Des Moines. At one point, he shared a conversation with his
father, notable because of its length and content.
"Dad, I just want to be happy like you," Randy remembers.
Josh repeated the thought several times.
An aunt, Julie Westly of Sioux City, and others in the family also
knew about Josh's "deep, deep depression."
"We all encouraged him to get help. But he was so afraid because he
thought his career would be over," Westly says.
Weeks played out, and casual observers in Grundy Center might not
have noticed any change in Josh. He started helping as a crossing
guard for the elementary school, setting out stop signs. He
volunteered with the Grundy Center Fire Department, bounding out of
the Omvigs' home when his pager sounded.
"He loved it. He loved to help people," Randy says.
Getting up in the night for an emergency hardly seemed an
inconvenience.
"Well I don't sleep anyway, Mom," Ellen remembers him saying.
Josh altered his career goal slightly. He still wanted to be a
policeman, but in a small community.
"Mostly, he wanted to be happy," Randy says. "I knew what he meant."
Besides restless nights, Josh experienced flashbacks. Unfamiliar
sounds sparked an undeniable urge to examine his parents' property —
in military terms, to secure the perimeter.
Ellen and Randy know Josh would circle their lot. He may have gone
farther into the neighborhood.
"I don't know. We didn't follow him," Ellen says,.
Josh occasionally shared thoughts that his mother did not understand.
"I don't want you to hate me," she remembers him saying.
At the time, Ellen interpreted the comment as a reflection on tasks
performed in combat. Attempts to reassure that she would never hate
her son were only marginally effective.
"What you had to do over there is what you had to do to survive,"
Ellen remembers saying.
Josh admitted another problem.
"He talked about hearing voices, seeing faces," Randy says.
Ellen pressed her son on one occasion about what he meant.
"He said Iraqi people."
Bad to worse
Josh had a friend in Iraq. Ellen and Randy know him only as Ray.
The soldiers were assigned to each other as battle buddies during
boot camp because they were standing in line together.
"They ended up good friends," Ellen says.
Toward the end of December, Josh apparently learned Ray had been
killed in Iraq. The soldier's death followed unfortunately close to
the funeral for Jimmie Kitch, Ellen's mother.
On Dec. 21, Josh went out drinking, an uncharacteristic event,
according to his father and others.
"I've never seen him drink a beer," Westly says.
At some point during the evening, Josh's truck and another vehicle
went into a ditch along Orange Road and got stuck in snow. Josh and
the other driver left the area. When they returned in a third car
with two other people, a police officer from Hudson and Black Hawk
County sheriff's deputies were at the scene.
According to their report, the deputies smelled alcohol on Josh's
breath and he failed two of three field sobriety tests. They
arrested Josh for operating a vehicle while intoxicated.
Josh got out of the Black Hawk County Jail at 9 a.m. Ellen remembers
by 11 he was home in Grundy Center. It was a Thursday.
He shaved and put on his desert fatigues. He said he wouldn't be
going to work. At the time, Ellen remembered a conversation about
visiting a friend and didn't think anything was unusual. There was
also mention of helping a recruiter talk with prospective young men
and women, which Josh had done in the past.
He asked his mother for their pastor's telephone number. And a sheet
of paper. He wanted to write a few things down.
Ellen tore a piece out of a spiral notebook, shearing off one
corner. Josh said the damaged page was good enough. Ellen remembers
her son's demeanor as calm.
Josh later handed his mother a note and went out a back door. Ellen
read the words but didn't understand. Josh described joining his
buddies. She at first thought that meant re-enlisting, a
possibilities Josh had entertained.
She went after him.
"I wanted him to talk to his dad," Ellen says.
"Then it finally hit her what he was talking about," Randy adds.
Josh was in his truck. The doors were locked. Ellen pleaded with her
son to not do what he was contemplating. Her appeals turned to
screams.
Ellen did not know at the the time Josh had already called a friend,
police officer Terry Oltman. He asked Oltman to stop by the house in
a few minutes.
Seeing what was developing, Oltman ordered Ellen away from the car,
she remembers. Ellen refused to leave her son.
Josh raised a handgun and fired a single shot. He turned his head
slightly to avoid possibly injuring his mother.
"I just can't believe how much can happen in one minute," Ellen says.
Father and mother want information in their son's suicide note held
privately. Save for the closing thought:
"I will always love you. Josh."
Postscript
The family buried their soldier with help from the U.S. Army Reserve
339th Military Police Co. Josh Omvig was 22.
"He thought it would get better because he was home," Westly
says. "And it never got better. It got worse."
Josh told his mother once he died in Iraq. But he kept living for
another year.

The Reality of PTSD

I’ve been an advocate for veterans receiving the necessary care for PTSD since before this series of wars began. I have a personal stake in it. I went years with all the symptoms of either a psychotic and anti-social man or someone who was experiencing the after effects of being in combat.
Unfortunately, my wife and kids paid the price as well. Between the angry outbursts and the attempts to off myself, they became the secondary victims of PTSD. It’s no mistake or nothing unusual both my kids became addicted to cocaine. There’s no surprise in all the emotional upheavals they faced growing up.
When I finally started treatment, I’d been out of combat over 12 years but could vividly see each bit of the Tet Offensive I was part of in my dreams or my intrusive thoughts. I had constant flashbacks. I had two lives. The life before Vietnam and the life after Vietnam. One day I was 18 entering Vietnam…a year and a month later, I was some 40 year old man in the body of a 19 year old.
I worked to educate people about PTSD, once I understood it. Before the most recent war, I asked two brothers who had been in Vietnam to visit a peace and justice group to talk about the troops returning once war started. We spoke about Vets4Vets and setting up free community therapy.
The group loved our ideas but we never heard back from them. Two years after the war had begun and many suicides and homicides later, a church allowed me to put on a full day seminar about PTSD for community members.
It was well received by the 25-30 who showed up on short notice. We talked about other seminars or talks.
Since that time I’ve had many discussions with groups wanting to do something but feeling PTSD doesn’t have much community appeal like an Iraq veteran or an Iraq woman might have.
Now, it’s been proposed we do a “fun run” for PTSD. Maybe a carb dinner the night before. We should invite regular community members, churchgoers and people outside the peace community. They propose we keep away from “radical” advertising in the community.
Basically, I’m being asked to do a seminar on the issue of combat PTSD without mention of my affiliations with veteran peace groups.
The day after I received this proposal, I read of the military sending unfit soldiers and Marines back into combat situations. These men and women were struggling with PTSD symptoms but because of the needs of the military to carry out the mission of fighting they were cleared for duty by commanders having the last say over the recommendations of mental health experts.
The leading Army mental health expert acknowledges the use of antidepressants by soldiers in a combat zone to treat the PTSD symptoms. She admits the military mission takes precedence over any personal consideration. And, amazingly, she feels field commanders are very aware of mental health issues and make good decisions before sending a soldier back into combat.
The alleged expert admits the suicide rate has dramatically risen but says it’s hard since everybody has a weapon over there.
Others in the mental health community deplore the use of antidepressants in such a situation because as the medicine lifts the energy level of the patient it increases possibility of carrying out suicide or homicide.
The military refuses to allow the enlistment of anybody struggling with PTSD but seems to have little problem with redeploying soldiers and Marines with combat induced PTSD.
I’ve been preaching we can pay the price now in treating the trauma of returning vets as soon as possible or we’ll treat it later in the form of increased suicide, homicide, crime, spouse abuse, child abuse, addiction, homelessness, joblessness, poor adaptive skills, poor impulse control, incarcerations and a litany of other problems that will affect all of us.
Over and over I hear the issue isn’t one of those issues that will draw a crowd to listen to someone about interventions, prevention, treatments and awareness of PTSD.
We don’t want to make it too serious. We don’t want to upset. We need to make it fun. We have to avoid radical statements to appeal to an audience.
I have to say this denial of peace and justice groups to the epidemic symptoms of trauma that will occur begins to grind on me. I look at my grown children, still struggling from the effects of my toxic world following Vietnam and I fear another generation of kids damaged like them.
It angers me to hear the bullshit arguments about how we should present the issues mentioned to the community. The same community that fails to look up when a wife is killed in some military base by a returning veteran of combat. The same community that cares more about the American Idol than the suicide of the neighbor son or daughter who had been to Iraq or Afghanistan.
Isn’t it about time the American people got jolted with the effects of the war on another generation of the young sent to an immoral war?
Fuck fun runs and avoiding radical commentary. I understand the rationale but I have no patience for this kind of deception. Let’s not admit we work for a veterans group that wants peace. Let’s hide who we are….No, I don’t think so.
We need to demand treatment for the American veterans and for their families. We need to heighten the awareness of this problem without deception. There’s no sugar coating what will happen without treatment.
We have to wake up to that reality. And then we need to address the PTSD of Iraqi children, innocent men and women and all who have been affected by our preemptive and illegal wars.
I think it’s time to quit with evasive behaviors and time to assert and advocate in a radical way for the troops struggling with PTSD.

Terry Leichner, RN (Psychiatric Nurse Specialist)
VVAW

The Bullies in the Bully-pit

I continue to be amazed at the ongoing theocracy this country has become. Mind you, I consider myself a Christian but I’m in no way represented by the continued bullying of right wing fanatics that seem to have taken over the government and pulpits.
The most recent example of the bullying by the extremists calling themselves the disciples of Christ is their attempt to keep their congregations from seeing the DaVinci Codes.
The controversy of the book DaVinci Codes has been going on for a number of years without a mass exodus of Christians from the churches but now the movie is coming out with an Oscar winning actor and the churches express outrage. They tell their lay people to support this movie is akin to a sin.
More reasonable reactions might be the use of the film and book to discuss the fictional accounts versus the theological lessons. Reasonable has been a missing reaction for many years with far too many leaders of the religions of our world.
History shows religions don’t want an informed laity, they want a controlled laity. Individual thinking can bring the wrath of clergy and lockstep parishioners. Think outside the established catechism and you become a heretic.
The terrifying aspects of the power we give over to the religions are the effects on peace and justice in the world. Wars and retribution are common results of the intolerance and narrow thinking of zealots.
When I see the depiction of books being burned in the press, I remember the days of Nazism and McCarthyism. We should be on guard to the totalitarianism we claim this country is against.
Instead, burning books and the refusal to allow informed thinking by the clergy is clear evidence we approach those ugly times again.
Recently in the state of Colorado, Archbishop Charles Chaput railed against a female legislator who introduced a bill allowing an extra one year statute of limitations for victims of sexual abuse to file a lawsuit against individuals or institutions. The Archbishop called the bill “anti-Catholic” and accused the legislator of being a disgruntled Catholic.
She was, indeed, a Catholic. She felt it responsible to allow victims of such abuse as priest pedophilia to be given one extra year to seek reparations for lifetimes of suffering, therapy and denial.
The Archbishop felt it a direct attack on the Catholic Church. He moaned about public institutions such as public schools not being held accountable in the same way as the Church. He’s right about this, of course. Public school employees are subject to criminal and civil penalties while the Catholic Church allowed pedophile priests to be transferred to other parishes rather than face authorities.
It doesn’t seem a coincidence the Northern Colorado diocese has recently had a series of revelations about multiple offenses by priests who were transferred several times from parish to parish. Each parish had victims by the same priests.
It’s clear from the pattern throughout the United States, the Catholic Church made deliberate attempts to cover up the illegal and immoral behaviors of a small number of priests rather than being responsible to their victims. Diocese after diocese was getting sued for the offenses with millions of dollars going to damages.
Archbishop Chaput laid claim to having a modern and strict code of conduct for such offenses when he was first confronted by the issues of the other dioceses’ problems. He took a lengthy period of time before he came out with a statement against the institutional cover up of the sexual abuse.
When he did make a statement he avowed to do an audit of every parish in accordance with the Vatican’s wishes. After the audits were completed, a laity group headed by a female Catholic, who also happened to be a judge, recommended another set of audits to assure continued safety for parishioners.
Chaput became angered by the recommendation and lashed out at the judge during the time the national Archbishop’s Conference was being held in Denver. He chastised the judge, telling her such decisions should be left to the clergy. The same clergy in many cases that had covered up the prior abuses.
During the 2004 Presidential election, Chaput and Archbishop Sheridan in Colorado Springs were two of the most outspoken clergy to tell laity a vote for a Catholic politician taking a pro-choice view would be in violation of Church teachings. When confronted they were in fact endorsing George Bush, Chaput and Sheridan disingenuously denied doing so even though the Democrat, John Kerry who was Catholic was pro-choice while Bush claimed to be anti-abortion.
I wrote Archbishop Chaput during this time to confront him about a de facto endorsement of Bush. He tried to tell me he was actually a Democrat but the abortion issue was more intrinsically evil than the war perpetrated by Bush or the death penalty often imposed by Bush while Governor.
I suggested the Archbishop was delusional if he felt Bush was anti-abortion for any reason other than political expediency. The tenor of the Archbishop’s remarks went from being very condescending to being quite angry in his email response.
Shortly after the election, George Bush appointed Charles Chaput to a Presidential commission of clergy. There’s a file photo of Bush sitting next to Chaput at a prayer breakfast with his hand on the the Archbishop's arm. Both men were all smiles. The story spoke of Bush thanking Chaput for his help.
As the bill for the statute of limitations got closer to being passed, the Denver Archbishop hired a high profile lobbyist to lobby against the bill. Ads and remarks by the Archbishop in the weekly Catholic Register made the call for the laity to write their legislators in opposition.
The diocese refused to reveal the costs of the lobbyist’s services but a similar effort for the Governor of Colorado, a friend of the Archbishop, ran in the hundreds of thousands of dollars. The lobbying took the form of attempts to discredit the woman legislator sponsoring the bill with distorted or half-truth remarks. Incredibly, there was also an effort to put the veracity of the victims’ claims of abuse in question.
Statements such as “after so many years, memories can be blurred” showed up.
It became clear the Archbishop was acting more as a CEO than the shepherd of the flock. His disregard for the victims and his smear of a responsible Catholic legislator were classic tactics of the Bush Administration led by Karl Rove.
I write as a disgruntled Catholic that Chaput likes to blame for attacks on the Church. I see it quite different, however. I think of people like Chaput as the ones attacking the Church. They attack it by deliberately portraying the words and actions of Christ to suit their personal agenda. They attack the Church by allowing themselves to become the modern day version of the Pharisees. They seek power and privilege and attack those who disagree.
Somehow, I never think of Jesus Christ as attacking His people. I think Christ would want the Church to be responsible and caring toward the victims of men claiming to be the teachers of the Church.
Sadly, there are far too many Chaputs who piously talk of morality and sanctity while in fact they impose control and power against their flocks. They say little or nothing to oppose wars killing children and innocents but tell women in impoverished parts of the world they must not use birth control. They say little or nothing about how a poor family must feed children. They only condemn their actions to avoid pregnancies or having other children.
Sadly, these pious men who won’t allow women to be equal in any part of life, cover up the sexual abuse of children but abhor and cry out against a man loving a man or a woman loving a woman.
We’re to love as they say. To bear children as they say and to read books and watch movies as they say. And we’re to vote as they say.
We bemoan the Shiites and Sunnis, the Imams and the ayatollahs and yet we’ve become no better in our own fear of people who might question and think for themselves. This is tyranny, whether in Iran, Israel or America.

Terry Leichner
VVAW

RE: Immigrant Rights Taking Focus From Iraq War

Subject: Re: Moral Imperative of Immigration
Although it may be a good thing that they are speaking out, you gotta know that Bush is loving this because it is taking the focus off Iraq, and every issue involving the war

The comments above come from an ongoing debate about the immigrant rights movement in the Marchin' to New Orleans veterans and Katrina survivors’ room I belong to. As in our local coalition, there are voices stating we can't focus on all these inter-related issues. As I'm prone to do, I beg to differ with the following response:

Are we to say the human rights issues of the Chicano, Latino, Hispanic, Nigerian, Irish, Arab immigrants (and all I failed to mention)are any less urgent than the humans rights in Iraq or any other place our imperialism has intruded and cast humans into crisis?
And did our trip to the Gulf to stand in solidarity with Katrina survivors take us off focus?
I think our goal should be to connect with the groups of oppressed and marginalized people mentioned and create a coalition that represents the "true" America witnessed in these huge marches.
Marches that humble any peace and justice rally or march since the Iraq and Afghanistan wars began. There's opportunity waiting for us in the peace and justice communities to join in solidarity with the immigrants and any other oppressed group. I don't advocate hijacking the movements for our purposes as has happened on occasion, however.
I advocate truly joining in the actions of the people to allow them to know we are with them and allow ourselves the gift of being with what Federico Pena (former Denver mayor) called "an ocean of beauty" when he addressed the 75,000 marchers in Denver yesterday.
It goes without saying Bush will manipulate this issue as he's done 9/11 and every other high profile issue. Should we allow Bush and racists like Tom Tancredo (House Rep - Colo) to dictate our tactics and actions?
We play to the mainstream press in so many ways we sometimes become pawns of the system ourselves, it seems. I don't think we can make everything a sound bite or a press op.
In his column today, Mike Littwin of the Rocky Mountain News, quoted a recent editorial he came across: "Organizers 'should ask themselves whether their cause would not be better served now by a period of calm.....rather than by new demonstrations which heat the emotions and fears of even moderate' citizens".
Littwin suggests most of us would guess this editorial was one in the LA Times in recent days. It actually was a 1965 LA Times editorial about those who were about to march on Montgomery, Alabama. Please note that Vietnam, Civil Rights, Women's Rights, environmental causes and much more occurred simultaneously during this time of history. They were all part of a bigger picture that we continue to want compartmentalized.
We can do that if we want but I believe we'll be a morally bankrupt movement if we leave any behind to just focus on one of the connected issues. I can't see us winning any struggle without solidarity with the communities we saw in the streets yesterday and in the Gulf during the week of March 19th.
I believe we do have a moral imperative to embrace immigrant rights as a struggle we all should be part of as humans.
I don't believe we allow the reaction of oppressors to dictate what is the right thing to do.

Terry Leichner, RN
Denver VVAW