A Vets view during the RNC. (was he an anarchist ?)

[annm4peace]

Walking guard duty-Keeping danger off-guard

by Larry Johnson * 10/16/08 * Well, I did it. I walked guard duty around the perimeter of the Twin Cities during the Republican National Convention. I walked, and I stayed alert for dangerous elements trying to get in - things like unnecessary, no-bid contracts for war profiteers, as well as extreme deregulation favoring the "high end haves" over the "horrendously harassed have-less." I walked every day, and I prayed for all our grown-up children, along with our 13 grandchildren and their friends, and theirs and theirs and theirs. That pretty much extends it out to everyone in the country, if not the world, and we all need to be kept safe.

For me, the fallout of all I and we saw and experienced during those days in September had to settle in before I could write about it. Then it hit me just the other day. When I turned 50 in 1996, I was going to reproduce my 1961 50-Mile Hike, and do it to support the re-election of Paul Wellstone. I never got it done, but I think I did something better. Despite the fact I've always been a practitioner of the content of one of my storytelling shows, MY HEALTH CLUB IS MY WALK TO WORK, I did belong to a health club that year. It was free as preventive health thru my health insurance, so I thought I'd try it out because I'd gotten quite ill in a bad, uncared-for building, and sometimes I couldn't be outside as much as I liked. Mainly I used the whirlpool and walked on the indoor track, where I planned to do the 50-mile hike to avoid weather extremes, sort of like a domed sports stadium.

Anyway, I started noticing former Senator Rudy Boschwitz also walking that track, so just to do my part, I began wearing my "MUMBLE, GRUMBLE, ORGANIZE, . . . HOPE . . . COMPLAIN . . . VOTE" Wellstone tee shirt to the health club. Then, being the good walker that I am, I began lapping the Senator and unobtrusively tilting the tee shirt signage in his direction. Secretly I hoped for some extreme reaction, but frequent surreptitious glances from the side of my eye yielded nothing. Sheer stoicism from a non-Scandinavian.

Then one day it happened. After walking, I stood in the sandwich line, unaware of the Senator holding forth only two people ahead of me. Suddenly he whirled, glared ominously at me, and demanded, "Why do they put all that negative stuff on that shirt?" Being a person who believes there's a time for rational thought and discourse, and another for theatre, I calmly and innocently replied, "Gee, I don't know. I just liked the color. You should ask the campaign office. I think they made it". Then I paused and added, with my best "Except ye become like a little child" affect, "Gee, aren't you Rudy Boschwitz? Are you going to run against him?" I knew full well who he was, and I knew he was already running, but I thought the whole thing had a nice dramatic effect, and it did. The Senator became visibly upset, and I'm sure this didn't really happen this way, but it seemed he just disappeared like those movie scenes where someone is instantly gone in a puff of smoke.

As I walked away, feeling somewhat guilty for being sick and unable to physically work as much as I wanted on Wellstone's campaign, I thought, "That's what I can do. Whenever Senator Boschwitz needs to be really on his game, may he have visions of the dancing, dysfunctional walker and be totally thrown off his guard. It must have worked, because Wellstone won another six years of defending the little guy against bureaucratic "behemothical" bullies, and that's what I realized just the other day about this former army medic walking guard duty during the 2008 Republican National Convention. Even if they never saw me, or didn't consciously know I was walking the perimeter, I was and am throwing those dangerous guys off guard every time they try to sneak in to hurt us all for another four years. Here's a little of how it worked on the actual walk.

DAY ONE - I got off the light rail by the VA, intending to walk west to Wirth Parkway and then north to Glenwood where I live. Thinking I could follow Highway 62 on a frontage road, my path took me by the fence around Fort Snelling. I think on a normal day this wouldn't have happened, but immediately military police were all over me with, "Sir, where are you going?" Coupling my best military posture with the "Boschwitz Incident Innocence", I said, "I'm sorry. I got off the light rail by the VA. I thought I could walk to 34th Avenue from here. Though I never got higher than E-4 (not even a sergeant) in my short time as a medic, the MPs again said, "SIR, you need to go back that way (north) around the VA. Then go west to 34th. We don't want you getting hurt on the freeway." Heading out, I said, "Thank You, Gentlemen", absolutely convinced I'd been saved by wearing my non-partisan MY VOTE IS IN HONOR OF A VETERAN button (naming my grandfather and 2 uncles). Being a child of the 50s, it seemed very analogous to Clark Kent's lucky silver dollar stopping bullets whenever he was shot as a civilian and not in his Superman uniform.

DAY TWO - Again I took the light rail to 46th Street, crossed the Ford Parkway bridge and walked down 7th Street to St. Paul. When I got to where 7th St. was blocked off and routed down by the river, behind the Science Museum, I signed an Amnesty International NO TORTURE petition. Mostly I was stunned by the eight feet of fence, topped by barbed wire, surrounding the central part of the city. Feeling they were guarding the city themselves, countless soldiers witnessed my own incognito guard duty as I crossed the river and followed it south and then back north thru Battle Creek Park.

I just turned 62, and the strong military presence, along with the concern about torture, had me consciously walking for Hugh Thompson. Thompson was the Vietnam helicopter pilot who stopped the My Lai Massacre, based on his commitment to military training on Geneva Convention - no killing civilians, no torture. I walked for Hugh Thompson who died at age 62 a few years back, and I bussed back into St. Paul, Mears Park, late afternoon to witness the start of the POOR PEOPLE'S MARCH. Again I was totally stunned. I know these numbers will be as accurate as most counts of demonstrations, but it felt like 1000 demonstrators, 1000 media, and 1000 police and security, with reinforcements from as far away as Tucson. I simply burst into tears, and then all I could do was walk guard, around that block, maybe 10 times, all the while praying for my city, my country, my friends and family, and really all of us.

DAY THREE - My path and task this day was north on Wirth Parkway from Glenwood, where I left off on day one. When I got to the north end, I headed east, wanting to go further, but a bridge, closed for repair, stopped me. They even had high fence at the entrance so walkers couldn't go over. I could have taken the bus down to the next bridge somewhere, but I made it a short day when I suddenly felt overwhelmed by "Why do all these bridges that didn't need repair before 35W fell, suddenly need fixing?" If only we'd started earlier repairing bridges here rather than blowing them up there.

DAY FOUR - Before finishing my duty by walking east from the other side of the bridge, and then south down the rest of the east St. Paul border, I decided to start this day at the much advertised, sparsely attended CIVIC FEST at the Mpls Auditorium. The original $15 entry fee was a deterrent, but the offer of FREE this day became an incentive for curiosity. With a few exceptions, like the presence of C-Span, the event was almost wholly partisan, reflected in the exhibits and the bookstore, where the only books about Obama were the sort that portray him as a dangerous "husseinical" terrorist who pals around with terrorists and will turn the country socialist if he doesn't destroy it first. Their idea of balance was to also sell Mickey Edwards RECLAIMING CONSERVATISM, which says conservative is good, but the current administration is not really functioning by true, Conservative, Republican principles. I've read it, but I can't imagine many people currently running the country or wanting it to keep running similarly, have done so. To keep from throwing myself off guard, so I could continue to throw them off guard, I needed to rush out and finish my guard duty, shouting "Mickey Edwards is right."

On the way home, when it was over, I remembered a story I found near Bremen, one time Elaine and I were working in Germany. It's in a book called Friedegeschichten (Peace Stories), and it's about two soldiers from opposing armies, standing guard duty on either side of the river. As each gets hungry and tired because their "relief" (replacement) is slow in coming, one finally risks everything, wades out into the river, stands perfectly still, and catches a trout with his bare hands the way his dad taught him when he was a boy. The enemies meet on one shore, build a fire, and share fresh fish and pictures from back home. They then go back on guard duty on either side of the river, each claiming when their relief comes, that they've not seen the enemy.