And now:[EMAIL PROTECTED] writes:
Date: Wed, 17 Nov 1999 08:59:28 -0800 (PST)
From: Eugene Johnson <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
Subject: Report on DC trip
MY TRIP TO DC
Upon being delivered to the airport, I gave Melodie
and Felicia lots of hugs and kisses and headed for the
ticket counter.
As the airplane took off, I was thinking I would be
shoved through the air faster than your average
bullet. I wasn't too sure how I felt about that. Up in
the sky and looking down I thought one would have a
long time to contemplate one's death before they hit
the ground should the plane decide to take a nose
dive.
To avert my attention from such thoughts, I dug into
one of the most horrifying books about the destruction
of the ecology in the Western United States, "Cadillac
Desert."
To top it all off, I didn't feel all that well
either, but I felt excited and wonderful about the
work I was about to do this weekend. We were going to
bring Leonard Peltier to the attention of the
president. I was going to record the words of some
prominent activists and bring them home for our
listeners. I was going to be a trouble maker, and
damned good at it.
Arriving at the Minneapolis Airport for my connecting
flight, I was greeted with t-shirts and hats donning
the face of one of my least favorite, but I assume
Minnesota's most favorite, people, Jesse Ventura. I
thought of buying one and using it as toilet paper,
but I didn't want to waste the money buying one.
I found my next gate, and having about an hour before
my flight took off, decided to get some caffeine in
me.
As I headed back to sit at the gate and read, I saw
Arvol Looking Horse and Paula Horn. I couldn't believe
it, this was great! We talked for about 25 minutes
before our flights. We were both heading to the same
place, but taking different planes.
Upon reaching my destination of Baltimore, I searched
out this mythical $17 shuttle. Well the shuttle to
where I needed to go was more like $35 and I would
have to wait 90 minutes before I could catch it.
Discovering a cab would cost around $15-20 more and
get me there about 2 hours sooner than the shuttle, I
took a cab. What did I talk to the cab driver about?
Leonard Peltier of course. One has to convert the
uninformed. Give them knowledge, and see if they'll
put it to good use or not.
I arrived at Harvey and Lorraine Arden's house at
about 7pm EST. I liked Harvey and Lorraine's house. It
was homey with lots of stuff to explore. Harvey was in
Massachusetts and wasn't going to return until the
next day, so Lorraine and I talked awhile until she
received a phone call from Leonard Peltier. She handed
the phone to me. For the first time ever, I actually
talked with the man whose freedom so many people have
been fighting for since his guilty verdict. This man
had unintentionally united peoples from all around the
world. I tried recording our conversation, but got way
too much feed back from the deck. Soon, Jean Day and
Savon (Savon is the head of France's LPDC) showed up
and talked with Leonard.
After Jean and Savon left, Lorraine and I had dinner.
I noticed that the burbs in DC were pretty much like
the burbs everywhere else. Upon returning to the
house, I went to bed.
I woke up early in the morning, and decided to head
on down to Satansville, oops, I mean downtown DC. The
subway, in which I was given specific instructions on
how to take, didn't open up until 8am, and here it was
7am. I took a cab and arrived at Lafayette Park at
about 7:25. I had heard there were some teepees
around, but I wasn't sure where they were. I walked up
to the statue in the middle of the park, and who was
it, Andrew Jackson. America sure loves their blood
thirsty butchers. Of course, how much they're loved all
depends on who they're butchering. Having to fight
back the fierce desire to jump the little rod iron
gate and try to kick the statue over, I decided it was
best to move on and not spend the rest of the weekend
in jail.
Wandering around the town, seeing all the
self-aggrandizing architecture and statues, I about
wanted to puke. Here is where the decisions are made
that murder thousands, if not millions of people a
year. Here is where the decisions are made that insure
the wealth of the few and the poverty of the many. And
here, they pat themselves on the back and propagandize
through their pomp and grandeur that they are some
kind of great and ideal country. They are an empire
wrought with the death of many people in order to gain
the heights they have.
There were homeless people laying all over in the
streets. I'd estimate at least 5 per block. But, of
course, they were far outnumbered by the cops, secret
service agents, etc., all to protect one man who won't
grant an innocent man clemency and who signed a bill
to force the Dine traditionalists from their home
around Big Mountain.
Upon returning to Lafayette Park around nine, I
talked with some people that had erected anti-nuclear
protest signs made of plywood. I read them, and one
said they had been there since 1984. I talked to one
man who was sitting there, and he said the sign was
wrong, they had been there since 1981. He informed me
that the teepees that I was looking for were in the
Elipse, a park on the other side of the White House.
I "Discovered" the Elipse, and the lone teepee at the
South end. There I met Danny and another man who were
guarding the teepee. "There's a man in there who's
been fasting for four days for Leonard," Danny
informed me. I was given permission to take a picture.
After a little conversation, I headed to the next
park, just south, where there were 3 more teepees set
up. Of course, there was that big erectile monument
thing a little further South, but that type of pompous
architecture didn't interest me.
At the other teepee's I met a small group of skins,
one whose name was Nathan. I'm not exactly clear on
the details, but I believe Nathan goes out there every
year for the month of November for a youth
association. He invited me to a Native American Church
ceremony that would take place that night, but I had
too much political work to do and wasn't sure if I'd
be able to perform well the next day without any
sleep.
I went back to Lafayette Park which is just North of
the White House, from the West side, where I ran into
Carter Camp and Edgar Bear Runner. I talked with them
awhile, and headed for the park when their Indian
Taxi-cab picked them up. A drum group was already
playing at the park. I whipped out the deck and
started recording them. A group of people showed up
and started setting up the stage and a small PA. I
finally met Gina Chiala, the woman from LPDC whom I
interviewed some while back.
I saw this one young man who looked familiar. I heard
someone call his name, Natay. I cornered him and found
out he was the rap singer. I recorded an interview
with him before the speeches started.
Arvol did the opening prayer and introductory speech.
He was followed by many fantastic speakers of many
nations. It was a powerful place made powerful by the
presence of a one minded peoples. A peoples who were
fighting for something that was right. The speakers
that stuck out most in my mind were Natay, Carter
Camp, a woman who read a message from Sub-Commandante
Marcos of the Zapitasta army, and Jaime Guitterez from
a Chicano group. There were many other good speakers,
but these are the ones who stick out in my mind.
Harvey Arden showed up with two of his friends about
half way through it all. I finally got to give him the
cigar I had held for him for over a year, a cigar I
was going to give him for an interview I was going to
do with him over a year ago. After all the speaking
was over, Harvey and I hopped the subway and returned
to his house for some dinner. George Ingmire, the man
who did most of the music for the Leonard Peltier CD
joined us. Harvey showed me where all his work takes
place, and even pointed casually to the first chapter
of the next book Leonard is attempting to start.
Harvey then gave me a pound of Zapatista coffee. I
might be mistaken, but I think it's Sub-Commandante
Marcos' picture on the front.
When I woke up and came downstairs, getting ready for
the sunrise service to happen at 6:30am, a strange man
was laying on the couch. We introduced ourselves. He
was "Goat" Carson, the man who played the buffalo
jawbone harp on the Leonard Peltier CD about to come
out.
We stuffed 6 people into the Arden van, Harvey, Jack
McGee, Mike, Lorraine, Goat (who should really only
count for 2/3 because he is pretty skinny), and I.
Lorraine dropped us off at the Elipse on the South
side of the White House.
Before the sunrise ceremony began, Bill and his
motorcade zoomed from the White House to some point
South to be loaded onto helicopters and whisked
dramatically away to Airforce One where he would head
to Turkey and Europe. The motorcade was a long line of
cops, black limos, and black vans, with more cops
blocking the intersections. It amazes me how so many
goddamned people are required to protect this one man
whose decisions in the last 8 years have murdered
thousand of innocent people. To get access to this man
whose decisions can make our lives more difficult,
one, of course, has to have the proper amount of
capital to open his ears in your direction. Yes! a man
of the wealthy, by the wealthy, for the wealthy, who
is too terrified to walk amongst the people he claims
to represent (just like every president that ever held
the office).
Dave Chief lead the ceremony. There were about 60
people there. It felt great and empowering.
Afterward, Jack McGee, Mike, and I decided to look
for somewhere to have some breakfast. Wouldn't you
know it, there are no decent restaurants open in the
a.m. on the weekend in downtown DC. No one there eats
breakfast on the weekends I guess. We wound up going
to McDonalds, which I detest, but I needed something
to eat before the long afternoon of recording was to
hit.
Jack suggested we go to Arlington National Cemetery.
I wasn't too up on it, but I joined them. We hopped a
taxi.
Jack wanted to see the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier
and the changing of the guard. Leaving the main
entrance building, there were signs telling us to have
respect, for this was sacred ground. Looking out at
all the tombstones, all I could think was that if
these were Indian graves, half of them would be
covered with a WalMart and the other half with its
parking lot.
Watching the changing of the guard, it was so stiff
as to be inhuman. These were living human beings, but
they moved so mechanically, one was almost unsure.
Many people loved the pomp, me, I felt uncomfortable.
We headed to JFK's grave. I left some tobacco for a
friend whose father died in the Korean War. I prayed
for all the dead as we walked along.
We came across Robert Kennedy's grave first. It was
so simple as to be truly honorable.
Upon reaching JFK's grave, a president I don't have
much respect for (I don't have much respect for any
president who ever existed), I oggled a woman and
thought of flooding an Indian Reservation in his
honor.
We hopped another cab to Lafayette Park, and
participated in the actions again. Many, many
wonderful speakers again: Corbin Harney, Ramona
Africa, Jennifer Harbury, Arvol Looking Horse again,
Harvey Arden reading from Leonard's book, etc. The
power was definitely present.
After getting some connecting addresses, George, a
friend of his, and I, went to find something to
eat....not in downtown this time.
We wound up in this little Lebanese restaurant about
a mile outside of downtown.
Afterward, we split up, and I returned to Harvey's. I
read some, then headed for bed, but before I could get
to sleep, guests showed up, Goat, George and his
friend. We went into Harvey's work room where we
talked about the Leonard CD which Harvey played some
of. It is a powerful CD, more powerful than the book
itself. I didn't think it would be much, considering
that it was a reading, but it was one of the most
powerful things I've heard. The music carried the
words deep into your soul, and I didn't realize it
until later, I was standing in the same room with the
three men who created it. What a powerful experience.
Monday morning, Goat and I went out for some coffee
in one of America's 40 billion mini-malls. As we
talked over eye popping doses of caffeine, I told Goat
that I hadn't been feeling too well.
"It's this city," he told me. "It's evil. All that
evil energy floating around."
"Yeah," I agreed, and explained my views on
Satansville.
Reverend Goat is a Cherokee and a member of the Wolf
Clan. He has been making musical instruments out of
animal bones since he was a kid. "I love bones. I'm
from the wolf Clan. A wolf's lair has bones all over
it. I love bones," he said with a big grin.
After breakfast, Lorraine drove me to the airport.
Again, to soothe my worried mind while being shoved
through the air at speeds unnatural to human beings, I
continued to read the book "Cadillac Desert" about the
excessively evil and arrogant deeds enacted by the
Bureau of Reclamation and their aggressive and equally
if not more evil competitor, The Corps of Engineers.
Landing safely back in Stumptown, I was greeted by
Melodie's beautiful smiling face.
It had been a great trip, but it was discomforting to
me to be in the belly of the beast as it were. Were it
not for our fellow skins being powerfully united for
this cause, were it not for the wonderful Harvey Arden
and his wife, I would never have chosen to visit this
town. It's good to be home, and it's good to keep up
the good fight. I pray that Bill was touched by the
energy we created and will give Leonard clemency.
Carter Camp said should Bill choose to give Leonard
clemency, it most likely won't be until next year,
when Hillary and Al wont be running for office. Carter
hopes that we could gather one teepee from every
federally recognized native nation in the U.S. and
clog the parks in DC next November to pray for
Leonard's release. So start planning your caravans for
next years Indian invasion of the White House.
=====
Copyright ©1999 Eugene D. Johnson. All rights reserved. Permission is granted to
redistribute this message, with this proviso attached.
Reprinted under the Fair Use http://www4.law.cornell.edu/uscode/17/107.html doctrine
of international copyright law.
<><<<<<>>>>><><<<<>
Tsonkwadiyonrat (We are ONE Spirit)
http://www.tdi.net/ishgooda/
<><<<<<>>>>><><<<<>
