Remembering Day 19
It's hot again and all I can think about is what 90 degree weather would have felt like down at Camp Casey Detroit. We had so many warm-but-not-hot sunny days during our 21 days there, that us white folks all got farmers' tans--brown faces, necks, hands and arms up to our biceps. Our companions of color darkened considerably too. I'm as brown as I've ever been.
I miss my friends. Especially Abayomi, Pat, Willie, Jessica, Charles, Cheryl, David, Derek and his daughters Cydney and Kaylan, Andrea, Isis, Ann, Norm, Daniel, William, Vivian, Paul, Allen, Jim, Kevin, Violeta, Kelly, Rosie, Virginia, Marc Anthony, Syria, James, Chuck, Gretchen and the others.
I miss sitting around sharing stories, talking politics, eating yummy food like the pizza and foccacia Avalon Bakery donated to us, drinking refreshing cups of ice tea from the Brown Bean Cafe, going over to the ballpark and football stadium with signs to make a stand for peace, dancing to the Rolling Stones on the sidewalk outside Center Field, participating in rallies and turning the Labor Day Parade into a 47,000-strong anti-war march.
It feels strange to spend my days inside buildings. Even with my scootings around town, it's not the same as being outside 4-6 hours most days, or 10 hours like last Friday.
When I read the news, it's no fun not being able to discuss things with my buddies, to hear their perspectives on what's happening.
Oh my, I knew this would happen--I'm in Camp Casey Detroit withdrawal!
But, thank goodness, I have my pictures to help me recapture the feeling of being there. Let's go back to Friday, Day 19 at Camp Casey Detroit, our next-to-last day and night.
Friday was another of those beautiful sunny days. Most of us moved from sun to shade and back several times during the afternoon. Abayomi, Pat, Allen, Jim, Robert, Jessica and I were the mainstays (photos #1 & #2). We didn't have many visitors, but two women who stopped at our tables were from France and spoke little English. I think Abayomi managed to communicate why we were there even with the language barrier. I know they signed our petition to bring the troops home now.
David and Cheryl joined us after work, David with tables and chairs for the potluck and Cheryl with materials to make a box to hold the postcards she wanted folks to sign and send to the governor of Texas. She was doing everything she could to try to stop Wednesday's scheduled execution of Frances Newton, an African-American woman who is probably innocent.
By 6 PM, people were arriving with dishes to share.
Our reason for having a potluck on Friday was to welcome the bus from Cindy Sheehan's Bring Them Home Now tour when it arrived. We'd been informed they probably wouldn't get to Detroit until 9 PM. But, as with all our Camp Casey Detroit parties, we didn't really need a reason; we just liked being together (photos #1 & #2).
Channel 2, our Detroit-area FOX affliate, came out and interviewed Isis and Abayomi. Surprisingly, Channel 2 was the only TV station to cover Camp Casey Detroit during our 21-day encampment. Actually, they ran three different stories on us. Knowing how conservative the FOX owner, Rupert Murdoch, is, we were pleasantly surprised to hear that Channel 2 in Detroit operates independently from the national FOX networks.
Cydney and Kaylan, Derek's daughters, came to the party and showed their artistic talent and social consciousness in making two important statements--photos #1 & #2--with sidewalk chalk. Well, three if you count their "Camp Casey Detroit Welcomes You" message.
In an earlier entry I told the story of what happened when the bus actually did arrive in the Detroit area, so I won't repeat that here.
And now I've just gotten off the phone with a friend from California. His tendency to whine about the sorry state of affairs in this country drove me a bit crazy tonight. There's no question but that things are falling apart, but why would anyone be surprised? Even more disturbing to me are folks like my friend who moan and groan but do nothing about it. I want to say to them, get out there and DO something! Stewing in your juices does nothing to change things; only action can turn the tide. For each of us, the form that takes will be different. But it is long past time to talk the talk; we need everyone out there walking the walk. There's where you'll find your hope.
--posting by Patricia