Dorothy Day's Union Square Speech - Nov. 6, 1965

Below is the text of the speech given by Dorothy Day at Union Square on Nov. 6 in 1965 when five men stood on the platform and in defiance of newly drafted legislation, burned their draft cards. This action along with David Miller's Draft Card Burning in October of 1965, planted the seed for other actions of property destruction vs the killing of children, women and men then and into the future. Miss Day's embrace of the young as leaders in the nonviolent social justice and antiwar movement along with her solidarity with the participants of this action was an important step on her part. She participated that day along with A.J. Muste, clergyman, pacifist and political activist. I was one of the men on the platform and I'll be posting other reflections on the actions that took place on that day fifty five years ago.

DOROTHY DAY, “UNION SQUARE SPEECH” (6 NOVEMBER 1965)

When Jesus walked this earth; True God and True man, and was talking to the multitudes, a woman in the crowd cried out, “Blessed is the womb that bore you and the breast that bore you and the breast that nourished you.” And he answered her, “Yes, but rather, blessed are those who hear the word of God and keep it.”

And the word of God is the new commandment he gave us–to love our enemies, to overcome evil with good, to love others as he loved us–that is, to lay down our lives for our brothers throughout the world, not to take the lives of men, women, and children, young and old, by bombs and napalm and all the other instruments of war.

Instead he spoke of the instruments of peace, to be practiced by all nations–to feed the hungry of the world,–not to destroy their crops, not to spend billions on defense, which means instruments of destruction. He commanded us to feed the hungry, shelter the homeless, to save lives, not to destroy them, these precious lives for whom he willingly sacrificed his own.

I speak today as one who is old, and who must uphold and endorse the courage of the young who themselves are willing to give up their freedom. I speak as one who is old, and whose whole lifetime has seen the cruelty and hysteria of war in this last half century. But who has also seen, praise God, the emerging nations of Africa and Asia, and Latin America, achieving in many instances their own freedom through non-violent struggles, side by side with violence. Our own country has through tens of thousand of the Negroe [sic] people, shown an example to the world of what a non-violent struggle can achieve. This very struggle, begun by students, by the young, by the seemingly helpless, have led the way in vision, in courage, even in a martyrdom, which has been shared by the little children, in the struggle for full freedom and for human dignity which means the right to health, education, and work which is a full development of man’s god-given talents.

We have seen the works of man’s genius and vision in the world today, in the conquering of space, in his struggle with plague and famine, and in each and every demonstration such as this one–there is evidence of his struggle against war.

I wish to place myself beside A. J. Muste speaking, if I am permitted, to show my solidarity of purpose with these young men, and to point out that we too are breaking the law, committing civil disobedience, in advocating and trying to encourage all those who are conscripted, to inform their conscience, to heed the still small voice, and to refuse to participate in the immorality of war. It is the most potent way to end war.

We too, by law, myself and all who signed the statement of conscience, should be arrested and we would esteem it an honour to share prison penalties with these others. I would like to conclude these few words with a prayer in the words of St. Francis, saint of poverty and peace, “O Lord, make me an instrument of your peace, Where there is hatred, let me sow love.”

When All Is Said And Done

There are many reasons not to vote for for Donald Trump but let's be honest, some of them or perhaps others could also apply to Joe Biden. There are policy differences and liberal, progressive, moderate and conservative goals that millions of Americans can discuss, argue and fight about. There are people on both sides that when you look at them your blood may begin to boil and real hatred starts to rise from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. That's the political reality that all of us are sharing right now.

Here though are some of what I believe are the disruptive, hateful and in a few cases, criminal policies of Donald Trump and his administration that in my mind just can't be tolerated. My own belief is that they violate basic principles and values of the country I live in. It begins with a personal policy that dehumanizes and makes fun of marginalized people. Personally I find this beyond reprehensible. But that's really just the beginning. Our country has moved to a policy of locking up people crossing our boarder. Poor people, women, children and families have been separated and put in cages and detention for seeking asylum. In the most immoral and unethical situations, children have been separated from their parents. In 500 plus cases, our government has been unable to find the parents of the children who have been separated. This isn't about immigration policy. This is about separating families and it will have negative consequences for everyone for many years to come. Remember, this policy was implemented to deter and punish people seeking asylum.

Using language and social media platforms that encourage violence and disruption against those who disagree with you is never helpful. Misleading people and telling outright lies isn't something anyone should strive for. Bullying tactics shouldn't be celebrated. None of this is normal behavior.

Worst of all though are the deaths of close to 230,000 people in the United States due to the Covid-19 virus. Many say that a large portion of these deaths could and should have been prevented. Some would say there has been criminality in these deaths through negligence and intent. Families and healthcare workers have suffered through this process. All of us have had our lives upended with no end in sight.

But here's the bottom line. When all is said and done, whether we agree or disagree on Donald Trump's policies, can any of us honestly say that four more years of living like this is something we should look forward to? When all is said and done, couldn't we all use a break from an environment of arguing and worrying on a daily basis? If we can't agree on policy, let's just agree on the mental health of our country. That to me might be the simplest reason to vote Donald Trump out of office.

Doing Time 1966-1968

It was fifty five years ago, in November of 1965. I, along with four other men, burned our draft cards at Union Square in New York City. This was very early on in protests against the Vietnam war. Of the five, I was the only one who was classified as 1-A and therefore subject to the draft. At the time I was 21 and affiliated with the Catholic Worker movement in NYC. David Miller, a friend at the Catholic Worker, had burned his card a month earlier. These actions were in response to Congress passing a bill that specifically prohibited draft card burning due to the rising number of protests of this kind against the war. The new law carried a sentence of up to five years in prison and a $10,000 fine. I received a two year suspended sentence and two years probation for that action. I was however ordered to report for induction into the armed forces shortly thereafter. 

In December of 1966 and as a direct result of the draft card burning, I was indicted for refusal to report for induction. The Judge in that case was less compassionate and I was sentenced to three years in federal prison. After spending several months at the Federal Detention Center on West St. in NYC, I discovered that I was being held to face additional charges of violating the terms of my probation in the first case. The prosecutor attempted to add the two years of the first sentence onto the three years of the second. Attorney Bill Kunstler came to my assistance and the Judge in the first case refused to comply with the additional time.

As noted, I spent an unusually long time at the West St. Detention Center but eventually I was transported by bus in shackles on hands, waist and legs to the Federal Penitentiary in Lewisburg, Pa. I spent a fair amount of time at Lewisburg and spent some of it in solitary confinement for minor disciplinary infractions. The same had occurred at West St. Eventually I was sent to Allenwood Prison Camp, a short distance from Lewisburg. Allenwood is sometimes referred to as a 'country club' for white collar prisoners. My experience was different than that and honestly those types of statements are usually made by people who know little about the actual place or incarceration of any form. 

I don't talk about my prison experience very much for a lot of different reasons. One, is that any incarceration brings back bad and yes sometimes terrible memories. It doesn't matter if the incarceration is in a minimum or maximum security prison, a county jail, a mental health facility or an institution of any type where your personal freedom is controlled or taken away by other people who have power and authority over you. Second, I never really felt comfortable with the aspect of promoting my antiwar actions as something out of the ordinary or special. It always seemed to me that my actions should stand on their own. There were others in the peace movement at the time who really tended to promote themselves, sometimes more than their cause. I was always more comfortable with just doing what I sensed was important and the right thing to do at the time. My actions were based more on religious beliefs at the time rather than as a political statement.

My oldest son was born while I was in prison. As a matter of fact, he was born when I was about 4 months into my sentence. That in itself caused a great deal of pain at the time and into the future. When I was sentenced to three years my wife and I had been married for about six months. My marriage ended about 12 years after my release. My ex-wife gave me all of the letters I had sent to her while I was incarcerated. I appreciate the fact that she kept them and gave them to me. Having said that, they have sat in a box for over fifty years. They've survived moves, rearranging and one dog attack, in reality a puppy fighting boredom, where a few of them may have been destroyed.

Recently I decided I had to do something with them. The choices were to organize, destroy or leave them as they were. Organization would be necessary in part due to the puppy encounter where dates and envelopes got all mixed up. Each of the letters was in a prison issued envelope with all of my identification according to protocol - name, prison number and relationship of the recipient - hand written on the inside of the flap. Everything from prison went to the guards unsealed and available for reading before they were sent to the post office. Yes, all communications were censored and still are in most prison settings. 

So a few weeks ago I began the process of opening each letter, shaking out the dust, organizing it according to date and reading the content. Overall it's been a good experience. I've learned that I didn't write very well as a 22 year old under some substantial pressure. I was not a literary giant of any sort and my letters would not offer much in comparison to others, much more famous, who have been incarcerated for their political beliefs. Certainly nothing like Dietrich Bonhoeffer and his Letters and Writings from Prison. My writing and thoughts were immature and unclear in many instances. The pressures of separation from a six month marriage, being an expectant father, the reality of prison and frankly just doing time, come through pretty clearly in my correspondence. In addition, it's hard to read one side of a conversation over a two year period with letters from the second party missing. Also difficult to see the gaps that occurred due to prison authorities holding letters back, etc.

On the positive side there were many good memories and reminders of relationships and friendships that occurred on both the outside and inside of prison. The relationship with my wife at the time being the most important. I was also reminded of how close I was to Dan Berrigan at the time and the many visits he made to every facility where I was housed. He would also drop off a check or cash to my wife from various speaking engagements that he had. I was reminded of the many Liturgies that he performed for a small group of Catholic Workers before and after his exile to Latin America, some at the Catholic Worker and some in our apartments. His brother Phil also visited me a number of times, first as a free man and after awhile as a federal prisoner for his own actions against the war. 

The letters also brought back memories and information about visits from Bill Kunstler and his wife Lottie, as both an attorney and a close friend. There were also many reminders of friends from the Catholic Worker who stuck by me and my wife through the entire time. There were also reminders of my family their support and the struggles my mother and father had with my actions. I also found a message I had sent to be read at my son's baptism which I wouldn't be able to attend. Very nice to have that document for him along with the baptismal certificate he already has signed by Dan Berrigan.

But prison is prison and there were some bad times, mostly having to do with control, authoritarianism, deprivation of respect and decency. There were times spent in solitary confinement at both West St. and Lewisburg. There were mind games and physical hardships brought on by some guards. There was the harassment of visitors and finding ways to make things difficult for them. There was the censorship of incoming mail, disallowance of packages, books and certain correspondence. These things probably seemed more important at the time and more difficult to deal with. The real issues though were the experiences with other prisoners. There were other prisoners of conscience but I spent much of my time with people accused and convicted of violent crimes and those involved in the use or sale of drugs. Men of color were a large portion of people I interacted with. But life in prison doesn't discriminate. Everyone deals with spurts of easy time and hard time. People hurt over their absence from friends and family. Personal relationships on the inside have continuous ups and downs.

The other thing I remembered while reading some of these letters was the disconnect with the outside world and how ever so slowly, a prisoner or at least this prisoner, became dependent on the controlled environment of prison. As an example, I remember on my release going back to NYC and being overwhelmed by the noise, personal interactions and potential for violence without intervention. I also remember not being able to use a dial phone or being able to deal with an operator because I had been away from those experiences for a long time. Others I'm sure have had different, better or worse experiences but these are some of the ones I felt and it's important to realize how people spending 10, 15 or 30 years of their lives in prison have to cope.

I spent 23 months out of my three year sentence in prison. Many things happened during those months: My son was born. I traveled to three different Federal prisons and saw the suffering that existed in each. I met Jimmy Hoffa, union boss and Morton Sobel from the Rosenberg spy case. I met a lot of other not so famous men and learned their stories and their personal challenges both in and out of prison. I was denied parole twice. When I finally did receive parole I only had two months to go before my mandatory release. I spent a number of sleepless nights before deciding to accept my parole. My choice was leaving within a few days with parole restrictions, or leaving two months later with the same restrictions under mandatory release. Not really much of a choice but it kept me awake at night. All of this by the way was a part of the planned mind games and punishment meted out by the federal government. I decided on parole. I wasn't rehabilitated.

My family and I eventually ended up living in upstate NY and after some bouncing around in the workforce I got involved working with people with disabilities, helping to close some state institutions along the way. I continued working in that field for forty years. The draft ended. It ended in part because of the actions brought against it by the young people affected by it. The war also ended eventually. It was replaced by other wars, run by other politicians, always with very few qualms about sending young men and women to fight. Drones became the new weapon of choice and civilians are still killed in the name of something or someone. The country still tries to heal from that war. Personally I've met, worked with and befriended men who fought in Vietnam and they've befriended me. But the healing from the different experiences we went through have been difficult for parties on both sides.

So these are the memories brought back by that box of disorganized letters. At least they're organized now. As I said, I've enjoyed the memories even those that are a bit unpleasant. It has helped me remember some people and their kindness. It has helped me remember some of the folks I shared time with in prison. It has also helped me document that part of my life.