My older brother likes to tell a story at holiday dinners about my protesting against the Viet-Nam War. His version goes something like this.
"I was entering the commons and a group of anti-war demonstrators were lying on the ground pretending to be Vietnamese dead. I look down and there's my brother. I said 'hi' as I stepped over him."
I've been psychologically scarred each time my older brother tells this tale. Partially since I can't recall the incident and somewhat hurt that he would not join me. Now my pain is nothing in comparison to the suffering of Agent Orange victims denied health care by the Pentagon or the parents of Vietnamese infants deformed by the Dow Chemical product. but the pain exists, especially as my efforts were not rewarded with true peace. Instead Le Doc Tho and Henry Kissinger negotiated a faux peace and the war continued to its inevitable end ie the fall of the corrupt Saigon government.
Undeterred by my defeat I have protested against every US incursion and war since my conversion to anti-violence in 1968. This pacific attitude was strictly relegated against the military-industrial complex, for I've always liked a good fight. even into my 50s.
Still my stance against the wars of this country has led to a campaign aimed at establishing a pension for long-time anti-war activist. My letters to the White House were ignored during the Bush years. Father and son. Clinton's staff never returned an answer too. My petition was as popular with the Obama administration as a parole request from Leonard Peltier, the AIM activist sentenced to life for the cold-blooded murder of 2 FBI agents.
I'm not asking for much.
Just enough to allow my living in Thailand.
A mere $2000/month pension.
Peace Now.
Saying it a million times has to be worth something.
No comments:
Post a Comment