Remembering 9/11

Language can sometimes trick us or many times help us to learn about our communication with each other. To me there is a subtle difference between the often stated 'never forget' and the words I'd rather use 'always remember'. Some how 'never forget' comes out a bit more aggressive, perhaps threatening. I get the sense that those words are more for our enemies, letting them know that no matter what, retaliation is always possible, always on our mind. After 20 years and the 800,000 plus lives added to the 2996 who died on 9/11, I don't find any of that very useful.

Remembering though brings a different sense to me. One obviously of memories. Memories of all of those who died and of the heroes who showed up or pulled together or helped to unify a nation in shock. Memories of children and adults who needed hugs and words of comfort. Memories of helplessness that many of us felt. Memories it seems to me are always useful and hopeful and can be a part of reconciliation, something we always seem to need.

All of this is why I choose to use the term 'always remember'. Silly perhaps but my way of trying to find a different response to terror, heroes, killing, retaliation and continuous wars.

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. 

Remembering Hiroshima

On August 6, 1945, I was a one year old playing at home in a small New Jersey town. Thousands of miles away, a US bomber, the Enola Gay dropped the world's first atomic bomb on the city of Hiroshima in Japan. In an instant tens of thousands of lives were lost, men, women and children. Other thousands were either maimed and scarred for life. Most of these Japanese citizens were civilians who had nothing to do with the war that had raged across Europe and the east. Survivors crawled through smoldering rubble and saw terrible sights of the living dead with burning flesh and missing body parts. Families were separated and lost.

The order had been given by President Harry Truman - Tru Man, an odd name as others have pointed out from a biblical sense. The scientists who had built the monstrous bomb knew immediately that they were now representatives of death and questioned what they had unleashed. But it was too late to question now. The harm had been done and others would want to replicate the weapon and the destruction.

There are still survivors from that terrible day 75 years ago and many work tirelessly to end the continued threat of nuclear war. There are others, people committed to peace and to the end of war. They to work tirelessly, marching, demonstrating, educating, praying and petitioning for an end to nuclear weapon building. Some mark this day with fasting and meditating, trying to make sense of how people continue to find horrific ways to destroy each other. In a few days we will also see remembrances of the second city destroyed by an atomic bomb in Japan, Nagasaki. Thousands more, men, women and children killed and maimed.

These are times for good people to commit to peace and an end to nuclear weapons. We all need to find our own way to make the message heard loud and clear. No to war. No to mass destruction. Refuse to accept it and refuse to participate.

Remembering Roger - Nov. 9, 2019

Every November 9th, I remember Roger LaPorte. Roger's story, life and death are difficult for some to remember or to understand. He was a young man confronted by a time of war and killing that was getting worse by the day. He was frustrated by what he may have seen as an ineffective Peace Movement. No one knows everything that was going through his mind but I do know this - he was a good person, struggling like the rest of us to understand the things we see going on in the world. He was looking and searching for ways to help other people make it through hard times.

The other thing I know is that he deserves to be remembered. I've written other things in the past about Roger's story and those can be found here. RIP Roger.

We Should All Think About The Dangers of A Partisan Military

On Dec. 26, 2018, Donald Trump visited American troops in Iraq. There is a lot of discussion on both sides today talking about how it's "about time" he made the trip or how "wonderful" it was. I don't really have an opinion about the rightness or wrongness, etc., etc. I do, however, feel like the partisanship expressed by himself and displayed by a good number of the soldiers was shocking and something that people should really be concerned about, including both military and civilian leaders.

I'm referring specifically to his comments about the southern border, the border wall, his budget spat and how Democrats are responsible for all of the problems related to the current government shutdown. He spoke as if he was at one of his political rallies instead of in front of military personnel. And the soldiers themselves broke with their traditional protocol by wearing and waving partisan red hats and cheering at barbs against people with different political views in the US.

It's probably not a surprise to many that I am not a great supporter or believer in the traditional militaristic approach that most countries throughout the world have when it comes to armies, planes, missiles and bombs. Many accept these things as a necessary evil. I am one of those who believes these necessary evils bring people and nations closer to war every day. In many countries, people who see the potential danger of militarism gone amuck, set up systems and virtually demand that there is civilian control and oversight of the military. That has been the tradition in the US as well and examples of this go back as far as the the founding of the country.

But we never had Donald Trump to contend with in the past. We never had a situation where a President talks about "his generals" and then puts them in charge of the military and national security. We've never had a situation where lines have been blurred like this. We also haven't had many situations, if any, where a sitting President goes on foreign soil and complains about his political opponents to soldiers in the field and gets them cheering against these opponents.

Perhaps Donald Trump and some of his biggest supporters would like to see soldiers marching with red MAGA hats as part of their uniforms? That's what this breach of military protocol could ultimately produce or allow and we should all be concerned about it. There was a time when I thought such statements were an overreach or an overreaction. No more. When you see it with your own eyes, when you see people who should know better, you suddenly realize that we are crossing lines everyday. I don't want to see troops become troopers who are protecting one segment of the population's beliefs and their wants or needs. Donald Trump doesn't seem to get any of that and no-one seems to want to tell him how wrong he is in his view of American values and politics. People better step up before it really is too late. I would guess there are military leaders and personnel who were not pleased with yesterday's events. My worry is about those who thought it was great!

Roger Allen LaPorte

Every year at this time, I find myself pondering and remembering Roger LaPorte, a young man and colleague at the Catholic Worker in NYC. Roger worked with me and others at the Worker, cooking meals, feeding the poor and providing clothing and shelter to men and women on the Bowery, the skid row of the city at the time. Roger also opposed the war in Vietnam, participated in demonstrations and on the morning of Nov. 9th, 1965, took his own life by pouring gasoline on himself and lighting a match on the sidewalk in front of the United Nations. He died a slow and painful death the next day. Roger's life was important as was his final act. Here are some pieces I've written in the past about Roger, his life and death:

(click here) Roger Allen LaPorte 1943-1965

Celebrating and Witnessing Moral Courage

Moral courage is something that needs to be celebrated, always. The challenge is that we need to find it first. Some may think it's hard to find and it does seem that way some times. Usually though, that's because we just aren't paying attention. Our lives are busy. Our time is limited and we are forced, or so we think, to prioritize how we use it. Busy, busy, busy - we chase the news, the news chases us. Our work and leisure bump into each other and we are forced to make choices. Seasons change and our lives move on at a pace where we may miss what's right in front of us.

The point is though that moral courage is critically important to our evolution and experience as human beings. So we need to find it and embrace it. We need to stare it in the eye and let it stare back at us. It's good for the soul - perhaps necessary.

Today I saw a terrific article about moral courage as exemplified by Megan Rice, a nun who has stood up to the nuclear arsenal of the United States of America. She is 84years old and is spending time, perhaps her life in prison for her anti nuclear actions (writing words of peace on weapons and walls). She and her compatriots are examples of true moral courage. You can get the full story HERE at Open Democracy  Spend a little time learning her story and follow links in the article above to see her writings. Her insights on the prison experience are right on.

Another example of moral courage comes from and through the Kings Bay Plowshares. Information on their personal action against Trident Missiles is available HERE at the Kings Bay Plowshares website. I personally know a number of these folks and believe they too are filled with moral courage. The entire group is identified on the website listed above.

Years ago when the Berrigan brothers, Phil and Dan, really established the Plowshares movement, I along with others at the Catholic Worker and in the broader antiwar movement debated the rightness and/or wrongness of property destruction. There were long nights of philosophical discussions over beer, coffee and music. Was it the right thing to do? Did it cross the line and move nonviolent action to violent behavior? Breaking the law by breaking and entering government property - was that the way to go? Friends disagreed with each other then and disagree with each other now. But moral courage was never in question.

We are certainly in a time when moral courage is needed more then ever. Megan Rice knows her role in this world. She knows about the abuse of power that happens in prison. She knows that all of our time on this earth is limited and she knows how she wants to spend hers. She's a great example of moral courage.

John Dear Campaigning for Peace and NonViolence

This past Sunday, July 22, I had the opportunity to spend some time with a number of other folks from the Elmira, NY area, listening to John Dear talk about a life of nonviolence and peace. The event was part of Dear's tour around the country to discuss a commitment to nonviolence based on the teachings and lives of people like Mahatma Gandhi, Dorothy Day, Martin Luther King, Jr., the Berrigans and others.

The talk was given after the Liturgy at Mt Savior Monastery just outside of Elmira in Pine City, NY. In many ways, John Dear's talk is an introduction to the concept and philosophy of nonviolence and that is certainly not a bad thing. He spends time walking people through the commitment to nonviolence and a nonviolent life by people like those mentioned above. More importantly he lets people know that a nonviolent life is not about passivity. Its not about putting up with the current state of affairs. He points out and reminds people that a nonviolent life is about speaking up, speaking out and taking action, direct action that many times gets people into, as John Lewis says, good trouble.

No matter how committed someone may be to nonviolence and a nonviolent life, we all need reminders once in awhile. We need to hear from others about why the struggle continues and why it's important. We need to remember friends and neighbors who have fought the fight through the years. But most importantly we need to be reminded that action continues to be necessary. People's actions can include writing, demonstrating, organizing, participating and going to jail as necessary. The reality is though that a nonviolent life really requires us to do something in the face of a society and culture that has propagated the concept of violence, racism, sexism, etc. Violence against others has been justified and romanticized to the point of almost universal acceptance.

John Dear also reminds us that nonviolence has to be worked on constantly. We stumble and fall in living our nonviolent lives, especially in these times of extreme partisanship and extreme personalities. It has become easier to speak in hateful language. It has become easier to ignore opponents. It has become easier to hate those we don't agree with. John helps people to understand that a nonviolent life is an ongoing challenge that has to be worked on regularly.

You can learn more about John Dear and Campaign Nonviolence here.

The Violence - It's All Connected!

I have been a pacifist for most of my life. Initially my pacifism was based in my religion and religious beliefs. Over the yeas it has evolved into a values based, life philosophy.

As I've been listening to and watching all of the tragedy in Parkland, Florida yesterday and today, I've joined with so many others trying to figure out what happened and what's happening in our country. The one message that comes clear to me is how all of our violence is so terribly connected. Our anger with each other, our wars across the world with drones and nuclear threats and starvation. There is also our language and conversations of hate against those who are different, immigrants, people of color, the poor and the homeless. What about the war we wage against the poor with proposals like taking away food stamps and sending people boxes of government surplus food. We need to recognize that violence can be more than bullets, knives and bombs.

We all need to realize that our conversations with each other or perhaps around each other, have gotten more violent. Our President and his supporters, the opposition, Congress, both sides, the media, main stream and fringe, upstate, downstate, rural and suburban, all of us are being more and more hateful. Yes, we're all being more violent as our positions have become more rigid. Name calling, bullying and intolerance are all more examples of the daily violence. We talk about enemies, real and perceived as though it's acceptable to wipe them off the face of the earth. We don't even stop to think about it anymore.

And then....and then...there are the guns. The guns have accelerated, the shootings have accelerated. AR-15s and people arguing that guns made to kill people in large numbers and brutally are a right. Crazy is crazy and enough is enough and we have to say it.

But in the end, we all have a huge job ahead of us in terms of trying as hard as we can to change this culture of hate, to lower the volume and to connect the dots relative this awful violence. We need to help each other and our children to understand that it's all connected and it has to stop. You don't have to be a pacifist to help reduce the violence.

Roger Allen LaPorte 1943-1965

On Nov.10th, 52 years ago, a young man by the name of Roger Allen LaPorte died. It was a difficult and painful death but it had tremendous meaning to a group of people who knew, worked and spent time with him.

The times were difficult. It was 1965 and the war in Vietnam was raging. There were people resisting, mostly young men and women. They were protesting, refusing induction into the armed forces, writing, burning draft cards, laying down guns and refusing orders. In addition they were working with the poor and the devalued, trying to do good and change attitudes. Yes, trying to change the world. Some were religious, some not, some were philosophers, some were purely humans struggling in an imperfect world. They were future prisoners, authors, teachers, husbands, wives and lovers. They were a community who needed and depended on each other.

Roger was impatient. He wasn’t overly practical and most importantly he was sick of what he saw happening in Vietnam and in his own country. He watched and participated in protests against the war. He was frustrated with the slow pace of peacemaking and he worried about his friends and whatever suffering he perceived that they might encounter. He was upset with the pain of the war that fell on children and soldiers alike.

On November 9, 1965, in the early hours, Roger bought a small container of gasoline, walked to the United Nations, sat down, doused himself with the gasoline and lit a match. Roger was 22 years old, a former seminarian, a volunteer at the NYC Catholic Worker and a friend. Roger died the next day on November 10th at Bellevue Hospital. His action and death caused shock and confusion among that circle of friends who knew Roger. Why was he so impatient? Why didn’t he talk about it? What was he thinking? Could we have stopped him?

Here we are 52 years later. The war in Vietnam took close to 10 years after Roger’s death to end. Many other wars came and some went. The Bowery where Roger mingled with the poor and the addicted has become gentrified but the poor and the homeless still exist. Presidents and other leaders have come and gone and today we have Donald Trump and Kim Jong Un playing with nuclear weapons and people’s lives.

All of this led me to and on a pilgrimage of sorts. I have thought about Roger often over the years but especially in October and November. Over time, I found out that he was born about 16 miles from where I currently live and that he was buried in Tupper Lake, NY, the town where his family moved and where he grew up and left for the seminary. In late October of this year, I took a trip to Tupper Lake to visit Roger’s grave site. I had found the cemetery and his grave location through research. We, Jeannette and I, arrived at the cemetery at about 10am on a beautiful late October morning, sun shining with a light breeze. We parked and then walked to the end of the row and found Roger’s marker, a granite cross with the words “In God Alone” above Roger’s dates of birth and death. I stood for a moment and said what I suppose was a prayer - “Hello Roger, it’s been a long time and I’m sorry for that.” We walked back to the car to get a white ribbon that I had prepared a few days earlier. I had written a brief message on the ribbon. “Peace Roger - Jim, Nicole, Paul and other friends." It was also adorned with the international symbol for Peace. As we were walking back to the marker, Jeannette said “What’s that singing?”. I paused and asked “What singing?”. Then I stopped and listened and heard it too. It was far in the distance but no mistake, it was singing, more like chanting by women and men. In my mind it sounded like monks and nuns at some religious ceremony. A few days prior I had re-read parts of Nicole d'Entremont’s book, “City of Belief” (info click here) that chronicles Roger’s death and all of the things leading up to it. I remembered passages in the book that talked about Roger’s relationship to and memories of monks chanting. I was a bit numb but went to the marker and tied the ribbon to it. I continued to kneel, listening to the sounds of singing and said a final prayer in my own unholy way. “Thanks for the sign Roger. Thanks for the embrace of not just me but all of your friends at the Catholic Worker. I’m going to find those singing nuns and monks to see who they are and if they'll keep singing.” I believe in spirits and signs and hope. Like many my age, I question formal religious dogmas but I do believe in people, friends and the earth that surrounds us. My final act was to clip some grass by hand around the edge of Rogers grave, trying to leave a place nicer than I found it.

We drove toward the back of the cemetery, to this side and that side. Sometimes the singing disappeared. We finally found it coming from behind but to one side of the cemetery. I pulled out of the drive and turned to the right on my quest to find the monastery or church where these holy people were chanting. Just past the cemetery there was a formal looking entrance to what turned out to be the Museum of Natural History of the Adirondacks. We made the turn, drove down a wide drive and past a large building called "The Wild Center". As I parked the car and we got out, there it was, the mysterious chanting coming from the woods. We began to walk toward the sound. A young woman just arriving for her shift at the museum found us and led us toward a back entrance to the museum. I asked her about the music and the chanting. She explained that it was an exhibit of what she called immersion art where an artist had placed the chants and music throughout one of the paths in the woods, where it mixes with the sounds of the wind, leaves and birds. We told her we had heard it in the cemetery. She became concerned and wondered if it was a bother. I said no, of course not. We walked down the path, sat on a bench and listened to the marvelous sounds that weren’t really religious but that did sound like chants and they were beautiful.

I have been reminded recently that this brash, impractical young man named Roger LaPorte, who lies on the edge of the Adirondack Preserve, has ironically taught us patience. His friends have grown old. Many battles have been won but some big ones have been lost. If we ever needed patience and strength to continue resisting, it’s now. And we need memories about Roger and he needs to be remembered. At the time of his death and throughout the years, some have tried to dissect his act. Please don't bother. There is no value in the task. Leave it be. I hope those chants continue for awhile at least, and that they bring Roger and all of us some peace. I hope we all continue working for peace. Try your best and as hard as you can for everyone's sake.

To that small circle of friends who knew and worked with Roger, it's all good.

And here is a re-posting of Remembering Roger Allen LaPorte from November 2015 on this site:

In the early morning hours of Nov. 9, 1965, a young man named Roger Allen LaPorte completed his trip to the UN carrying a container of gasoline. He sat down on the pavement, poured the gasoline over his body and ignited himself in flames. This self immolation was Roger's protest against the war in Vietnam. Roger was taken to Bellevue Hospital with burns over most of his body. He identified himself as a Catholic Worker and indicated that he was against war, all war and that he did this as a religious act.

Roger was 22 years old, a former seminarian and someone who volunteered at the Catholic Worker's House of Hospitality close to the Bowery in NYC. I knew Roger and worked with him. I was 21 and was in the middle of my own protest against the war. There were many other people who knew and worked with Roger. We were living in a somewhat surreal time. We worked with the poor and the marginalized. We cooked soup, gave out cloths to those who needed them. We sat up at night singing songs, drinking beer and arguing with each other about war, peace and our actions and reactions to the politics of the time. The times were intense. People were making decisions about their lives and about their futures.

Roger was quiet and thoughtful. He watched what was happening around him. A week earlier, another young man, a Quaker named Norman Morrison, had set himself aflame in front of the Pentagon and the office of the Secretary of Defense.

A few days before Roger's action he had attended a draft card burning demonstration at Union Square. He stood in the crowd and listened to hecklers telling the young men on the platform to burn themselves, not their draft cards.

Roger made a choice. He didn't tell any of us of his plan. He went to the UN early, before people would see him and intervene. He sat down and acted.

At 5:16 pm that evening, NYC and much of the northeast went black with a large power outage. Traffic lights, elevators, and lights throughout the city stopped working. At the Catholic Worker, the evening meal was being served. We were lit by candles and the light from a bicycle turned on its handle bars and seat with people taking turns turning the pedals. After dinner a small group walked the streets in wonder at how everyone was helping each other out. Pedestrians were directing traffic, people were helping each other cross streets. We sat together in an apartment talking about, praying about Roger. Wondering, thinking in silence and sometimes breaking into a song.

Roger died the next morning. There are those who spent and continue to spend time analyzing Roger's action. Was it this or was it that? It was what it was, a young man seriously frustrated and angry about a war that seemed to have no end.

Roger was a good young man and he should be remembered as such. That's the way I remember Roger LaPorte fifty years after his death.

Lessons of War - What Have We Learned?

We are in a time when this question needs to be asked by everyone - supporters of wars, opponents and those in between. We are in a period where choices need to be made. Yes, a period where decisions that could effect generations for years to come may be made very quickly, by a small handful of people.

According to most experts, we are closer to a nuclear incident then ever before. In addition, there are enough nuclear weapons to wipe out the entire planet many times over. We have seen and lived with the horrors of war for centuries. History is filled with facts and stories about war and combat. One thing is certain in all of this history - there are winners and there are losers. There is also brutality and death of both combatants and of innocent civilians. Some have always said that those deaths are inevitable and one of the prices of victory, freedom or fighting for any cause.

So what else have we learned about war and its consequences? We've learned about theories of justifiable war but we've learned about a soldier's responsibility to refuse orders per the Nuremberg trials. Due to technology's evolution, we've learned about atrocities first hand, watching villages being burned and civilians being shot on newscasts for everyone to see. We've watched live events of Towers burning and crumbling from planes flown into them. We've watched drones controlled from thousands of miles away hone in on targets, sometimes getting it right and other times making terrible errors, killing civilians at weddings and family gatherings.

We've also learned that people can make a difference in opposing wars. We've learned that mass movements take time and require that people who may not agree on all kinds of things, can agree on one or two core principles. We've learned that political and religious leaders can stand up against wars and violence. We've learned that movements take leaders, organizers, people who are prepared to work hard at making views known.

So what does it take? Ads in major publications signed by religious, political, scientific, literary leaders could be a start. Bringing attention to what's wrong with nuclear tit for tat, etc. Large demonstrations, organized well and focused, in major cities do work. Nonviolent resistance has always been key to effective change. Violence in the streets works against any movement for justice.

Leaders are certainly needed from both past and current generations and these generations need to talk to and learn from each other. It's too serious to not have this happen. So do what you can to start the conversations and the organizing. Tell stories, sing about the past and the present, support causes, encourage young people. Let people know that taking a stand against war is not only important but it works.

Some Thoughts About Peace, The Catholic Worker and Community

These are two pieces I shared earlier today on Facebook. Both are important because they give some sense of the Catholic Worker philosophy. We are in difficult times. People are not listening to each other. So I'm sharing these thoughts from two of my heroes, Peter Maurin and Dorothy Day.

The first appears below and it's a result of thinking about how separated we all are right now. I'm reminded of this Easy Essay by Peter Maurin, co-founder of the Catholic Worker with Dorothy Day. It goes like this:

Community or Crowd?

People say:
They don’t do this,
They don’t do that,
They ought to do this,
They ought to do that.
Always “They”
and never “I.”

The Communitarian Revolution
is basically/a personal revolution.
It starts with I,
not with They.

One I plus one I
makes two I’s
and two I’s
and two I’s make We.
We is a community
while “they” is a crowd.

And then as I think about war and peace in this difficult and dangerous time I tend to go back to my roots in the peace movement - listening to and reading Dorothy Day speak about the topic. So it seems that it's important to review some important thoughts about peace. As a barely 21 year old volunteer at the NYC Catholic Worker in 1965, this is some of what I heard from Dorothy:

Weapons of Peace

"One of our Catholic pacifists asked me to write a clear, theoretical, logical, pacifist manifesto, and he added so far, in these thirty-three year of The Catholic Worker, none had appeared from my pen.

I can write no other than this: Unless we use the weapons of the spirit, denying ourselves and taking up our cross and following Jesus, dying with Him and rising with Him, men will go on fighting, and often from the highest motives, believing that they are fighting defensive wars for justice for others and in self-defense against present or future aggression.

To try to stop war by placing before men’s eyes the terrible suffering involved will never succeed, because men are willing (in their thoughts and imaginations at least) to face any kind of suffering when motivated by noble aims like the vague and tremendous concept of freedom, God’s greatest gift to man, which they may not articulate by merely sense. Or, in their humility (or sloth, – who knows?) men are quite willing to leave decisions to others “who know more about it than we do.” Without religious conversion there will be few Franz Jagerstatters to stand alone and leave wife and children and farm for conscience sake. But as Jagerstatter said, it was God’s grace that moved him, more powerful than any hydrogen bomb."

An Old Friend Builds Homes In Vietnam

It's pouring rain here in the Finger Lakes of NYS and that's good. It's needed and welcome. Seneca Lake and surrounding lakes are low due to the drought that we've experienced all summer and into the fall. But the rain brings other things, melancholy thoughts, tiredness, a few new aches and pains along with the old ones that have been hanging around more often and for longer periods.

Focus.... focus on the positive. An old friend of mine, Paul Mann, is getting set to return to Vietnam for the second time as part of the international Habitat for Humanity program where a diverse group of people will help build houses for Vietnamese citizens. I've talked about Paul before. He and I were at the Catholic Worker together in the mid 60's both refusing to fight in the Vietnam War, choosing the works of mercy versus the works of war, feeding the poor, clothing the naked, singing and trying to work for peace. We lived together, sang together, loved together, made jokes and walked the streets together. At one point we moved north of the city to Tivoli, NY and tried our hand at the communal life with a small group of friends living in an old chicken coop minus the chickens - quite comfortable actually.

Dan Kelly another draft resister from the Catholic Worker is joining Paul on this trip. Dan is a well respected pediatrician in San Francisco these days and it is great to see him joining Paul and the team that is going to Vietnam.

Paul called me a while back and invited me to go along on this trip, something I really wanted to do for lots of reasons. Alas, it's not in the cards. Health issues keep me pretty close to home these days. I'm certainly not in dire straits by any means but I've got enough issues that keep me from going too far.

What Paul and Dan are doing though is truly important. Yes the homes for families are important but so is the healing, personally, communally and for all of the individuals going on the trip. Paul tells the story of working with and bonding with a veteran of the war on the last trip, crying together as the reality of their two experiences during that time frame long ago hit home. Two characters from different worlds, now working together to build a home for a Vietnamese family. The myth of antiwar protesters and veterans waring with each other proven wrong again.

Paul and his veteran compadre are examples of what needs to happen more in this country, especially after this terrible election season. People sitting in silence, looking at each other and realizing that they're in this together nd that there are better ways to get things done.

Paul has a GoFundMe page to help with expenses for his trip. Of course money or lack of it won't stop Paul from going. Never has, never will. But if there are some folks out there reading this who believe in a better way, a more peaceful world, a place where healing can and should take place, think about sending a few dollars to Paul for his voyage. It will be money well spent. You can find his page here Paul Mann Vietnam Trip . In the meantime, thanks Paul and Dan for doing this and safe travels.

Being Numb About Paris Shouldn't Be Excuse For Stupidity

The tragedy of violence in Paris does have a numbing effect, as did 9/11 in NYC. We're always shocked about the death and suffering of innocents and heroes. But this statement comes with some realities and contradictions. One of the realities is that others are suffering and being killed every day throughout the world.  Bombings from suicide vests, missiles, planes and drones are a way of life and death in parts of the world. Sides don't really matter. Death has no allegiance. Death doesn't care about sides or political positions.

Death and injuries do instill fear however and sometimes fear impacts how we think or what we believe. This is not only the point of terrorism, it's the point of violence in general. So now, Europe and America struggle with policies and political reactions. Values that are centuries old are suddenly questioned and there are reactionary responses to refugees and migrants. Values like opening arms and borders to the politically oppressed or those suffering from the brutality of war or the poor and hungry go quickly by the wayside. People, politicians especially, speaking before thinking or checking the facts, stoking fear and in many cases hatred. The reality is that currently Syrian refugees are going through an 18-24 month vetting process while some make arguments about the outrage of their entry across America's borders. None of the same politicians are talking about the thousands of tourists and businesspeople who fly and sail to America every day or the Visa program that allows many across borders. Classes of people continue to matter.

There is the other very harsh reality. We have been engaged in war for 14 years and all the things we've tried have not worked - soldiers on the ground, drones in the sky, etc. Yet now, we somehow think that more of the same will solve the problems we've seen and that we have. There are so many experts and critics pointing out failed policies but not providing useful solutions. No one seems to be looking at or caring about where the violence is coming from or why it exists. Instead we follow the same course or call for more military action that in the end creates and fosters more radical responses from some in the Mideast.

The numbness from violent attacks on people makes us crazy and sometimes stupid. We all have to fight that instinct. We have to be smarter about our reactions. We have to think about our own ancestors, their plights and their journeys across seas. We have to think about the reasons for war and the injustices that create the environment for war. We have to protect values that are dear to us through dialogue. We have to keep working for peace even while we're numb from continued violence and death.

Remembering Roger Allen LaPorte

In the early morning hours of Nov. 9, 1965, a young man named Roger Allen LaPorte completed his trip to the UN carrying a container of gasoline. He sat down on the pavement, poured the gasoline over his body and ignited himself in flames. This self immolation was Roger's protest against the war in Vietnam. Roger was taken to Bellevue Hospital with burns over most of his body. He identified himself as a Catholic Worker and indicated that he was against war, all war and that he did this as a religious act.

Roger was 22 years old, a former seminarian and someone who volunteered at the Catholic Worker's House of Hospitality close to the Bowery in NYC. I knew Roger and worked with him. I was 21 and was in the middle of my own protest against the war. There were many other people who knew and worked with Roger. We were living in a somewhat surreal time. We worked with the poor and the marginalized. We cooked soup, gave out cloths to those who needed them. We sat up at night singing songs, drinking beer and arguing with each other about war, peace and our actions and reactions to the politics of the time. The times were intense. People were making decisions about their lives and about their futures.

Roger was quiet and thoughtful. He watched what was happening around him. A week earlier, another young man, a Quaker named Norman Morrison, had set himself aflame in front of the Pentagon and the office of the Secretary of Defense.

A few days before Roger's action he had attended a draft card burning demonstration at Union Square. He stood in the crowd and listened to hecklers telling the young men on the platform to burn themselves, not their draft cards.

Roger made a choice. He didn't tell any of us of his plan. He went to the UN early, before people would see him and intervene. He sat down and acted.

At 5:16 pm that evening, NYC and much of the northeast went black with a large power outage. Traffic lights, elevators, and lights throughout the city stopped working. At the Catholic Worker, the evening meal was being served. We were lit by candles and the light from a bicycle turned on its handle bars and seat with people taking turns turning the pedals. After dinner a small group walked the streets in wonder at how everyone was helping each other out. Pedestrians were directing traffic, people were helping each other cross streets. We sat together in an apartment talking about, praying about Roger. Wondering, thinking in silence and sometimes breaking into a song.

Roger died the next morning. There are those who spent and continue to spend time analyzing Roger's action. Was it this or was it that? It was what it was, a young man seriously frustrated and angry about a war that seemed to have no end.

Roger was a good young man and he should be remembered as such. That's the way I remember Roger LaPorte fifty years after his death.

Fifty Years Ago - Draft Cards - Protest & Free Speech

Fifty years ago on Nov. 6, 1965, five men stood on a platform and burned their draft cards in front of a crowd of about 1500 people at Union Square in NYC. Peace activists A.J. Muste and Dorothy Day both spoke at the event. Counter demonstrators yelled that the men should burn themselves and not their draft cards. In the first attempt, someone in the crowd shot a fire extinguisher at the flames from the protestor's lighters. The men and others thought it may have been gasoline and stepped back briefly. Regrouping, they relit the pieces of paper that symbolized hundreds of thousands of young men being called upon to fight a war that many questioned.

There were three aspects to the draft card burning at Union Square. One was to protest the war in Vietnam that was becoming increasingly unpopular. The second was to protest the draft itself and the selective service system that was choosing who would fight in that and other wars. The third aspect was to speak up for the First Amendment and protect the right to free speech and protest. Earlier in the year, Congress had passed a law that specifically made it illegal to destroy a draft card. This legislation was a direct result of more and more people speaking out against the war and public demonstrations that included draft card burning. The legislation was meant to stop the protests and intimidate the protestors. In October of '65, David Miller became the first person to publicly challenge the new law and he was quickly arrested and charged. On Nov. 6th, these five men publicly burned their cards in solidarity and in support of Miller. Three received sentences of six months in prison. One wasn't charged due to his age. The last received 2 years probation but was then inducted, refused induction and served two years of a three year sentence in Federal Prison.

There are many today who don't know what draft cards were or what they symbolized. There are those who have no memory of the Selective Service System of that time, the lottery or the draft. Ultimately the draft ended, in no small part because of demonstrations and sacrifices made by many during this period of unrest and protest.

There is much more to the story of these five men and others but I'll leave that for another day.

Tom Cornell, Marc Edelman, Roy Lisker, Dave McReynolds, Jim Wilson, Nov. 6, 1965 at Union Square, NYC

Julian Bond - A Good and Decent Man

I remember watching the Democratic National Convention in 1968 and being excited about the young man being nominated as Vice President that year. The young man was Julian Bond. Julian Bond passed away this past week. He lived a great life and was a good and decent man. He was a major force and leader in the Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee, a civil rights leader, an elected official, a past president of the NAACP and a class act in general.

This past May, I saw Julian Bond along with many other people who had been involved in the peace movement at the conference Vietnam, The Power of Protest in Washington, DC. Today, Democracy Now, posted a video of one of Mr. Bond's last speeches that was given that weekend. We had all marched to the Martin Luther King, Jr Memorial to celebrate what people had accomplished over the years and to renew our commitment to peace and social change.

During a break at the conference,  Julian Bond and Rennie Davis (Chicago 7) were saying hello, reminiscing and trying to figure out how to take a selfie of themselves. I asked if I could help by taking the photo. I took Julian's phone and snapped a couple of pictures for them. Here is a picture of me with Julian Bond in the background just before I helped him get the picture he wanted.

I was privileged to meet and have a brief encounter with him. He had influenced me greatly and I looked up to him and what he stood for and how he had responded to adversity in his life. Here is the video of Julian Bond's speech that day at the King Memorial with an intro by Danny Glover. Thanks to Democracy Now for sharing it with all of us. Take a minute to hear Julian's story from his own mouth and listen to his message about continuing the struggle.

Julian Bond's Speech

A good and decent man. A man who knew the power of protest and who acted on it.

The Stupidity of War

Memorial Day just passed and we are in the very beginnings of the 2016 Presidential campaign. Both of these events present many opportunities for some people to wrap themselves in the American flag and promote war as a solution to complicated world issues. It's sad really and worse, dangerous.

Glib, emotionally based statements about nuking people and countries out of existence cross just about every moral and political line there is to cross. Sadly, there will always be those who are attracted to these kinds of statements. They imply a quick solution to some of the problems the world faces. Most of the hawks and war sellers have never fought in a war or paid any kind of price relative to the violence of war. Yet they spout about what they would do as Commander In Chief as if they have all of the expierience in the world. Boots on the ground - a few thousand here, a few thousand there - more bombs, more drones. We report and seem to celebrate the death of 10,000 ISIS fighters without questioning how many people end up being radicalized or recruited by these deaths. All of this is an acceptance of old concepts of war that over the centuries have been proven to be incorrect - and in the end we just keep repeating the mantra.

But war is stupid, really stupid and many times, as we've seen, a mistake. What do we do about those mistakes after the fact, after thousands are killed. They are no more. Their future and our future is affected by the loss. People we knew, didn't know or who now we have no chance of knowing. That is the real tragedy and stupidity of war.

As people talk about 'boots on the ground', perhaps as few as 3000 (a few unless you're one of them), we really need to remember and contemplate the mistakes and lessons that should have been learned from Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan. Wars are terribly stupid and tragic ways to find peace and many of us know it.

The Power of Protest & Memories

Last week marked an important time in history. On April 30, 1975, Vietnamese Communist forces captured the South Vietnamese capital of Saigon, signaling the end of decades of warfare that tore apart the country. In addition, the week also marked the anniversary of the shootings at Kent State University. The history of the war in Vietnam is an important one to recognize and recount accurately. The history of the anti war and peace movement is also important to review, recognize and account accurately. There are many lessons from the Vietnam era that should have served us well as people took us down the path to war in Iraq.

I was able to spend time in Washington, DC this past weekend, meeting with many other people who protested and acted against the war in Vietnam. Here's a link to an article that appeared in the NonProfit Quarterly that sums up the events pretty well - NonProfit Quarterly - Vietnam: Memory & Silence.

The article not only discusses what went on, but also talks about the importance of memories, history and learning. One of the things I did while I was there was to participate in a video project that is recording and archiving personal stories and histories from that time period. It's an important project because history does tend to get revised - by the government, historians, etc.

I also had the opportunity to meet up with and reconnect with some old friends from that time period. We were able to reminisce, share stories and laugh about some of our experiences. It was good. We marched from the New York Ave. Presbyterian Church to the Martin Luther King, Jr, Memorial. Old protesters with bad knees and bad feet, still letting people know that war can be a huge mistake and that people need to speak up and act. The lessons of Vietnam are very real and they should be taught and re-taught every time we think about justifying another war.

When all of the activities were over I was also able to spend a day with my sister, my brother in law, my niece and her husband.

We're home again, understanding a little bit more about how war, the environment, youth and the power of protest are all connected. Seneca Lake sits out my window looking solemn with grace and changing colors, waiting for the wind to whip her up again. Glad to see her and know she's strong.

Drone Warfare and Moral Challenges

There are those who have supported and urged even more use of drones by the US in battles against terrorism and in conflicts that take place around the globe. There are many who have opposed their use and who have known that it was just a matter of time until we saw some of the terrible flaws associated with their use. The discussion of 'collateral damage' or more clearly, the killing of civilians, has been known since the onset of their use. Yet others have sold the use of drones by talking about their surgical precision and the identification of targets.

Many have written about how we are in fact creating terrorists through the expierience of civilians and families being injured and killed by drones in addition to identified targets. It has always been quite clear that drones don't have good enough 'eyes' to identify and distinguish perceived enemies from innocent civilians. The targets are broad. They are in many cases good or best guesses based on limited intelligence.

We have now seen what happens or what can happen with the recent reports and admission that hostages were killed in a drone attack on high value targets. With the report and admission comes shock and sorrow by many. Political leaders and journalists start asking about policies and processes. In the meantime hundreds if not thousands of innocent civilians have been killed or wounded by drones and their weaponry. The accounting for these deaths and injuries has been minimal and difficult to get. Perhaps it will become a bit easier in the future but what a cost people have paid.

There are those who predict that drones are a bigger threat to the world then nuclear weapons. We need to think honestly about how we will react when the inevitable use of drones to kill and destroy people in the US occurs. It will be horrific. We will not take it well. But others have already experienced it. Children don't go to school. Families look to the skies in fear. Lives are changed. Drones were never the answer. They are just one more technological weapon that seems more humane than an alternate weapon - until of course we dig a little deeper. Striving for peace and justice is the only real hope. Beware the hawks who always justify collateral damage as a wartime necessity.