Grannypower's Open Salon Blog

Savoring Meditation #215: My day on the picket line

Sun, 13 May 2012 22:05:01 -0400

(This entry is a little more recent than most of my previous posts. One of my first efforts to watch civil disobedience in action. Very inspiring some 13 years ago or so.)

I tossed and turned all night as I pondered the tasked ahead the next day.

For months now I had kept up on the news concerning the United Mine Workers' strike in Southwest Virginia. I felt helpless in lending any real support other than a letter to the editor on behalf of my local Pax Christi group.

But then Sunday I went to an Appalachian Peace Education Committee annual meeting and discovered that volunteers were needed behind and in front of the picket lines outside St. Paul, VA.

I loved the idea. I adjusted my schedule and took a day of leave from work. Called to cancel my reservation to an appreciation luncheon. My husband would take the kids to school Wednesday.

Yet I struggled. Was I really "just a mom still trapped in the 60s" as one of my son's friends said? Hell, it didn't matter.

Up with those noisy birds at six after listening to them since five. Baby's bag packed, breakfast on, teeth brushed and makeup on. I was waking up. The door bell rang at 6:50, while I was still in my pajamas. A rush to get my faded jeans and peace shirt on, map, lunch and cup of coffee grabbed and we were on our way!

The Finucane's were driving their station wagon. Accompanied by two dogs in the back seat, we talked small talk for the hour-long picturesque drive through the Virginia mountains, poking their heads out of glossy white fog. A beautiful time for looking and thinking.

In St. Paul we found the meeting place --- St. Mark's Episcopal Church. Quiet surrounded the town as a few struggling students rambled through the town to school.

An alternative press writer and hunger worker from Blacksburg, VA., met us at the church. As the minutes ticked by, others arrived. A couple just returned from Nicaragua, clergymen, concerned citizens, all joined in purpose.

There was an air of confusion and anticipation in the air. "What do we do now?" "Let's get out of here and get started."

Finally directions to the some 35-40 congregated people were given and a car caravan began.

More winding and roller-coaster hills until at last little signs of approaching strike territory were seen. A long string of cars pulled off the side of the road greeted us. I got antsy to get out and explore the center of strife.

Camera in hand and feet in first gear, I headed on while Charlotte and Tom came behind with one of the dogs. Both past 60 and probably in their 70s, they were FDR activists who were always ready for a little bit of dissension.

We all gathered around the strike spokesman Marty Hudson of the United Mine Workers (UMW), who gave us a little background and encouraged us all to commit civil disobedience (CD) by sitting in the entrance of Pittston's Moss #3 Preparation Plant, disrupting the steady flow of truck traffic in and out of the facility.

I had promised both the Finucanes and my family that I wouldn't get arrested. I felt like a chicken, but at least I could offer support to those who were willing to be arrested, bussed off to a precessing center and then returned to the site some four to five hours later.

The strikers clapped and cheered when they saw us walk by. Most had already been arrested up to two times each. Third offenses were felonies with fines up to $10,000each. Few could risk that, so we were a sight for sore eyes.

I saw no violence while at the plant. (Perhaps they were on good behavior for us. I don't know.) The men were widdling (weapons, Charlotte said). Some were giving their figures away for the asking, so I asked and got myself a souvenir for the day.

All volunteers were given camouflage bandannas, to identify whose side they were on. I was too busy taking pictures when these were handed out.

A coal truck pulled into the entrance. Four miners got down and sat in the middle of the road in front of it. The truck stopped. Virginia State patrolmen recited penalties for such action to the law breakers. No one moved. Instead they each were picked up by the patrolmen and carried to a waiting van at the entrance. From there the van would carry them to the processing center about thirty miles away.

The truck tried to approach the entrance again, only to be greeted with the same resistance. Again and again the same actions were taken and vans filled up quickly while strikers and sympathizers sang, cheered and clapped for their heroes.

The atmosphere was desperate, yet joyful. Hopeful yet hopeless; the big and powerful against the small and kicking.

Some Episcopal clergy and a Catholic nun, along with other supporters, spoke to the crowd from a flatbed behind the picket line.

Encouragement and support letters were read from the Presiding Bishop of the U.S. Episcopal Church, the Most Rev. Edmund L. Browning; the Bishop of Southwest Virginia, Rev. Walter Sullivan.

All stressed the importance of justice, but a justice that could only be achieved through nonviolent processes.

The letter from the Presiding Bishop said in part: "....We know that psychological violence has been done to those who now suffer from the unbearable anxiety and desperation of being cut off from support systems which they counted on to be there for them in their sickness, their disabilities and their retirement. But if that violence, as well as the physical violence which some would incite for their own purposes, is to be overcome, it can only be through the non-violent way of the peacemaker.

"We therefore urge you to be steadfast witnesses to the abiding truth of that Gospel claim. Through non-violence, you will permit others to participate and assist in the healing and reconciliation of all people in this place. By your actions, you can give all those affected by these events the grounds for hope because your commitment to nonviolence will be rooted in the only power that can ultimately bring reconciliation, the power of God's eternal love."

I stood by Gail Gentry, a disabled miner who had worked seven years in the mine before an accident that put him in a wheelchair the rest of his life. He lives on workman's compensation and Social Security Disability. His wife and children have no benefits. Like so many of the other strikers that day, he too wheeled his chair out into the middle of the entrance to become the 2,000th person to be arrested since the strike began April 5th.

As Gentry parked his wheelchair there in front of an oncoming coal truck the crowd knelt and prayed for justice for the miners, their families and retirees. The truck stopped. Gentry was arrested and wheeled into a waiting patrol car and driven away while proud wife snapped pictures of him.

Tears filled the eyes of some of the more sentimental strikers' wives as they chanted, "We won't go back, we won't go back" over and over.

By now trucks were passing into the plant and out of it while management and union people filmed everything the other did.

After a short walk back to the car for our packed lunches, we strolled back to the strike site as the union sympathizers (most of my contemporaries) organized to take their turns sitting in the oil-soaked road in front of the oncoming trucks. My soul went out to them as they put their actions were their faith was --- on the line.

And they too were carried off by the troopers in a waiting buss (this time). two groups of sympathizers sat in for the strikers and were prepared to pay their individual fines later when they would have to return for a hearing (now scheduled as far as December).

The clergy were questioned by TV news personnel as they climbed aboard the bus. One said this was an action he had to take, comparing his action to those of the Biblical Issiah.

As the bus pulled off, the Rev. Jim Lewis of Raleigh stuck his thumbs up out of the bus window, grinning from ear to ear, like perhaps there was hope after all.

I could see that tom and Charlotte were getting hot and tired by now. I wanted to stay, but I did feel a little like a fish out of water.

I could sympathize with these strikers and their families. But could I empathize with them? Could my family live on $200 a week strike pay (and that may run out) while continuing to make mortgage and car payments and buy food (Strikers aren't eligible for food stamps.)? Could I come out there and strike day after day, rainy days or scorching days? Could I keep in my frustrations and remain nonviolent day in and day out?

I was a spectator, cheering for my team, but not participating in the game. What was worse, they wasn't a game. This remains Appalachian life.

(Sit-downs have now been discontinued due to a hefty $3 million fine imposed on the union. Other means of civil disobedience and resistance have been implemented since the time of this writing --- 1989.)

Savoring Meditation #214: No Stork, just birth without pain

Thu, 10 May 2012 22:05:20 -0400

(I wrote the following after I gave birth to my elder daughter more than 40 years ago. I was euphoric as the completion of her birth after a marvelously succeeded in birthing her without medication. She was born in a military hospital in Fort Leavenworth, KS. She was the first Lamaze Method baby born there.)

No,my daughter, babies do not come from storks!

We've come a long way from when babies came special delivery from this awkward looking bird..

Birth today is much more recognized as a mystery -- a beautiful and exciting experience.

Whatsmore, having a baby does not have to mean pain. It's always hard work. But will proper education and stick-to-itiveness, pain doesn't have to be a part of labor any more than it has to be a part of pregnancy.

In addition, having a baby need not be wife's solitary effort. Instead it can be a shared joy for both husband and wife -- together during labor and delivery.

This is prepared childbirth in a nutshell. Some people call it the Lamaze (from its innovator, Dr. Fernard Lamaze) Method. Others mistakenly call it natural childbirth. Doctors call it the psychoprophylactic method.

A prepared childbirth mother and father simply prepare to have a baby together.

First of all, they're educated to just what to expect during labor and delivery.

Then the wife learns the art of complete relaxation --- immediately responding to her husband's command to relax.

Lastly the wife learns how to breathe during contractions -- from deep abdominal -- to quickened and shallow breathing to mighty pushing to deliver the baby.

So when baby does come, instead of the hospital receiving a fearful tense mother-to-be, they greet a calm and knowledgeable couple ready to have their baby together with dignity and love.

Prepared childbirth -- an experience of a lifetime!

Thank God, another and better way has been found for babies to enter the world than by storks.

Savoring Meditation #213: Love is Like a Plant

Sun, 6 May 2012 22:05:34 -0400

(I wrote this poem about 32 years ago, when I was all wrapped up in the wonders of Love and of God. They both are still important in my life, but I hope my thoughts have matured somewhat in the last three decades.)

This little plant,

Let it be a symbol

Of your life together.

It sets its roots

Down in the richness

Of God's lifegiving soil.

You set your roots

Into the richness

Of God's love...

And your love

For one another.

This plant reaches

For the sun.

And husband and wife

Reach for the Son.

Water feeds this plant;

Keeps its leaves

Glistening and succulent.

God through the Spirit

Feeds your love for one another.

The Spirit, sympolized by water

Refreshes, cleanses and heals.

The plant adds life-giving

Elements to a home.

Your love adds

A meaning for life itself.

Your plant adds color

To a home of manmade items;

Just as your love

Adds color to

Your eyes, your faces, your life.

Finally, with proper care and pampering

This fragile plant grows.

It reaches up;

Its roots anchor deeper, sturdier.

Your plant becomes full.

It bears fruit,

Glorifyinng its creator.

Care for it, pamper it.

Your love --- may it grow!

May it reach the heights!

May it be anchored in deep feelings.

May it bring you

A fullness of joy,

Peace, understanding.

And may it bear fruit,

Bringing happiness and service

To Others....

And especially your creator.

Savoring Meditation #212:Being Waiting Wife during Vietnam

Sun, 29 Apr 2012 19:04:46 -0400

(I wrote this article in the early 1970s during the wind down of the Vietnam War, to which my husband was assigned while I stayed behind in Omaha with our two small children for a year. I still would have chosen to go AWOL to Canada as a family.)

Foremost among a military Waiting Wife's woes is concern about her husband's safety.

"Steve had to promise me that he would not come back in a wooden box," says Kathy. "I dreamt that he did before he left. I still dream about it to this day."

"Everyday I scan the papers; I listen to every newscast; and I pray that I won't read or hear that the base where my husband is has been shelled," explains Judy.

The Waiting Wife is not the only woman facing life without a live-in male companion. Her sisters are the single women, the widow and the divorcee.

Each woman may find herself experiencing episodes of loneliness, of frustrations and helplessness at times by the mere fact that she has no mate, no one to confide in, no one to share happy and sad moments, no one to be with in a society made up of couples.

But the Waiting Wife, whose husband may yet be in Vietnam, Thailand, Cambodia, Australia, Taiwan or Korea, sticks out like a peanut butter sandwich at a gourmet feast.

She is luckier in many ways, less lucky in others. It all depends on whether she is an optimist or a pessimist.

The optimistic Waiting Wife knows that she is still loved by the man she married. And she has to believe that he will return someday.

She tries to see her life just as it was when her husband was home --- except he's gone, perhaps on the other side of the world. But their love lives on.

"How did I make it through these 18 months (a waiting record in Omaha)?" asks Linda.

"Well, let me tell you a little secret. We sent each other x-rated tapes."

Linda continued, "So whenever I felt low, I would put on one of these little tapes, and it was almost as if my husband were there with me."

Of course Linda make her statement after she had just received a plaque from the local APO (Army Post Office) Waiting Wives Club signifying completion of involuntary separation from her husband.

Now a pessimist may say, "Sure it's easy to be optimistic when one is looking back at the separation nearly completed."

It just follows that most pessimistic Waiting Wives happen to also be new Waiting Wives.

One wife tells about the first weekend she was home without her husband.

"I had just gotten to bed. It was a windy, angry night out there. Suddenly I could swear that I heard someone trying to get in the house.

"I was brand new at this business of being head of the family. I couldn't even remember if I had locked the doors because my husband had always done that before.

"The noise continued, and I was getting pretty shook up. Finally I came to my senses and rationalized that I had no reason to be afraid. After all, so what if I was to be mangled and perhaps killed. At least I wouldn't have to live through this upcoming year alone. Now I almost welcomed my near end.

"My only concern thereafter was that our children remain safe even if I were to be killed.

"Thank God, everything was my imagination. I had locked the doors. Now I'm glad that that night wasn't my last. I only have a few more days left to wait before my husband's home for good."

An unique problem exists for the Waiting Wife who establishes a home with her children away from family and friends while her husband is away.

Besides the emotional problem of separation from her husband, she faces much the same problems as her single mother sisters.

She replaces fuses in appliances, puts up and takes down storm windows, learns the difficulties of managing a car and teaches her son how to play football and soccer.

The only advice she gets may be from well-meaning neighbors and a husband some 9.000 miles away.

It's a frustrating life when one's husband is on the other side of the globe.

Single mothers are free to have a male companion to confide in and lean upon now and then.

Often, however, all the Waiting Wife has to depend upon is herself. And each wife tackles her frustrations in a different way.

Unfortunately, the children are often the targets of their lonely mother's frustrations.

No Waiting Wife has been known to be a child beater, but chances are that Mom may have a lower boiling point the year Dad's away than when he's home.

"One night I simply slapped my four-year-old for hardly any reason at all," says Barbara.

"I then had to explain to him that I was sorry, but this was a bad time for me with Daddy away," Barbara continued. "It's hard, though, for a four-year-old to understand why his mother should hit him, when it's not his fault that his dad is at war."

Another wife didn't lay a hand on her children when she reached her boiling point.

"The kids that morning had been little devils," Judy recalls. "My girl was beating on the neighbor boy, Glen had colored on the wall, and the dog had chewed a hole in the fence.

"It was as if a tornado hit me. I found myself flinging my full coffee cup at the kitchen wall.

"Believe it or not, I just loved seeing that splattering mess --- the sound of the cup breaking.

"Afterwards I didn't even mind cleaning up. I was just fine after that, calm as a breeze the rest of the day," Judy concluded.

But with the bad comes the good. Whenever Waiting Wives get together, one can't help but hear the words, "leave," "R & R" and "DEROS" (Date Effective Rotation Overseas).

Almost like clockwork, a month before a wife's husband is due for a leave at home, R and R or DEROS, she goes on a diet, cleans the house from top to bottom and may even borrow the big three from a fellow Waiting Wife --- The Sensuous Woman, The Sensuous Man and The Sensuous Couple.

A week before the rendezvous, she may buy some sexy lingerie and start a crash diet since she cheated on the one three weeks earlier.

"We Waiting Wives are a very cohesive group," says Anne. "But when one of our wives' husbands comes home, it's understood that we leave the lovers alone.

"Oh, we may call a week or so after he's home, when both have gotten their heads a little out of the clouds," Anne adds. "But as far as we're concerned, their first days alone are theirs alone."

Women who live in the Omaha area and whose husbands are stationed overseas are welcome to join the local APO Wives Clubs.

New Waiting Wives simply register with Family Services at Offutt Air Force Base. they will later be called by a member of the Offutt APO Wives' Club, which meets once a month at a local restaurant.

Savoring Meditation #211: Woman on Peace Walk 27 years ago

Fri, 27 Apr 2012 23:04:00 -0400

Summer, 1984

One thing you don't call Adele Kushner: A 60-year-old grandma.

"I'm only 59 and a half," she brags. And she's got a lot to prove before she finishes her sixth decade.

Adele is marching across the United States and even farther --- to Moscow --- with a group of young men as members of A Walk of the People: A Pilgrimage for Life.

She became interested in becoming part of this peace march last year when the group's organizer Dale James Outhouse of New York passed through her hometown of Atlanta mapping out his future walk through the southern part of the nation.

The stout and feisty grandmother of two liked Outhouse's message and she had something she want to prove --- something about ageism, sexism and American foreign policy.

"I just thought it was a good thing to show that a 59-year-old grandmother can get out and shake a leg," she summarizes.

In fact, Adele was so sold on participating in the peace walk that she retired six years early from her job as a health program evaluator for Fulton county, GA.

Initially she made a ten-day trial walk in California to make sure she was up to the project. Results were positive. Affairs were put in order back home in Georgia before Adele got in step with the peace group in Wichita Falls, TX.

Half a dozen other walkers are making a statement about peace along with Adele --- all nearly 20 to 30 years her junior.

They began their walk last March appropriately at Point Conception, CA. They plan to reach their Moscow destination in August, 1985 with letters, artwork, poetry and other works showing what Americans feel about their search for peace in a troubled world.

Along with their packet of letters are ones from governors the marchers have met along the way, including those from Arizona, New Mexico and Texas.

Adele and her fellow walkers have no official sponsors. They survive on the sale of peace t-shirts and buttons, even aluminum cans they turn in at recycling stations along the way. In addition, they meet with peace groups in communities, whose members give them shelter, a home cooked meal and packed lunches for meals on the road.

The group tries to cover about 20 miles a day, and Adele trudges along with the rest of 'em.

"The others in the walk have been good to me," Adele concedes. "They let me drive the car more than my share so I won't get too tired. I put in about three hours a day on foot, though."

Everything the group needs in stored in Outhouse's car, an old Dodge Dart, that looks more battered than the walkers from the trip. One person drives it ahead and then waits for the others to catch up.

In mid-November they've already made an appointment to meet with officials at the Russian Embassy in Washington, DC.

Then the car goes into retirement as the walkers walk into a plane that will take them to Dublin, with further jaunts (by foot whenever possible) to London, Berlin, Warsaw and finally Moscow.

What in the world do Adele's daughters think of their activist mother?

"They got me started in this," she answers.

"When they were in school they started bringing these leaflets home from school. They criticized our role in Vietnam and things like that.

"I was shocked. My country, which was always the good guy, was doing things I couldn't believe. It changed my life."

Adele has had to make a few sacrifices because of her new lifestyle. Shortly after she started on her walk, her daughter had a baby, which she had to delay seeing until she reached Atlanta in mid-September.

Once there she took some time off and flew to Denver to catch a glimpse of grand-baby before joining the walkers again along the road to the nation's capital.

This most unusual grandmother, often found under a huge gardener-type straw hat and wearing long sleeves to protect her from Mother Nature's cruel elements, looks at her walk philosophically.

"I figure that what we're doing on this walk is like throwing a rock in the middle of a stream. It sends out ripples from the center that reach out to the edges of the shore.

"I know that when we speak to people along our way, their enthusiasm is evident," Adele explains from her tanned face.

"We do feel enthusiasm from them, and that is just so wonderful. You never know what will come from that. That's really what keeps me going."

What Adele will do after she delivers Americans' letters to the people of Russia and returns home to the U.S. is the farthest thing from her mind right now.

"I feel there's definitely an urgency to have people work for people," she remarks, however. "I've found that it's possible if you just get out and do what you can."