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t r u t h o u t | One Mother's Stand
By William Rivers Pitt
Thursday 11 August 2005
10:35 PM
I am back in the hotel room, sunburned and ant-chomped and utterly thrilled. Being here these last two days was the rarest privilege. It was a Happening in the truest sense of the word, and it is growing. If you can get here, get here.
BUT: Understand that this thing could be killed by its own success in two ways. 1) It could get so large that the cops would be forced to shut it down. Remember, there is very little available space for people and cars. We were all in ditches. 2) A lot of people could show up and turn the thing into a multi-faced multi-subject disorganized mess, and that would be a disaster. If you go, focus on Cindy and the families of the fallen soldiers, and ending the war and calling George to account. Period.
I am off to Boston tomorrow morning but am going to try to get back soon. Meanwhile, t r u t h o u t Editor Scott Galindez is staying here with camera in hand, so the videos will continue on this page.
Cindy and the other families, and all the activists who were there, and everyone keeping this vigil, are patriots and the rarest of heroes. Don't let disgruntled outsiders or blathering right-wing pundits tell you any different. It was an honor to stand in that ditch, to watch these Americans demand accountability from the public servant over the hillside.
Thanks for reading, and keep an eye here for more videos over the next several days. This is William Rivers Pitt, signing off from Crawford, Texas. Peace y'all.
A Nation Rocked to Sleep
By Carly Sheehan
Sister of Casey KIA 04/04/04
Sadr City, Baghdad
Have you ever heard the sound of a mother screaming for her son?
The torrential rains of a mother's weeping will never be done
They call him a hero, you should be glad that he's one, but
Have you ever heard the sound of a mother screaming for her son?
Have you ever heard the sound of a father holding back his cries?
He must be brave because his boy died for another man's lies
The only grief he allows himself are long, deep sighs
Have you ever heard the sound of a father holding back his cries?
Have you ever heard the sound of taps played at your brother's grave?
They say that he died so that the flag will continue to wave
But I believe he died because they had oil to save
Have you ever heard the sound of taps played at your brother's grave?
Have you ever heard the sound of a nation being rocked to sleep?
The leaders want to keep you numb so the pain won't be so deep
But if we the people let them continue another mother will weep
t r u t h o u t | One Mother's Stand
By William Rivers Pitt
Thursday 11 August 2005
8:05 PM
I spoke to Cindy about the "so-called" family who attacked her today. This godmother, according to Cindy, did not know Casey at all. They saw each other maybe once a year. As for the other family members, they have always been at political loggerheads, so their response is no big shock.
Cindy treated it with a shrug. Her husband will send out a more detailed response soon. In the meantime, Cindy says the letter is to be treated as little more than bad, dumb noise.
The vigil goes on.
t r u t h o u t | One Mother's Stand
By William Rivers Pitt
Thursday 11 August 2005
7:55 PM
The sun is almost gone and the sky has turned a deep pure blue. Most of the crowd is gone, leaving the hard core behind to stand the watch as they have done all week. I am going to start saying my goodbyes to these remarkable, heroic people.
I will post some final thoughts in a bit. If something else happens, I will of course post it.
t r u t h o u t | One Mother's Stand
By William Rivers Pitt
Thursday 11 August 2005
7:22 PM
As remarkable and heartwarming as this has been, there are those moments that stomp your heart out. A woman arrived here not long ago with her teenage son. Her husband had been killed in Iraq. She had never in her life been involved in any activism, but heard about this and came out. She too, wants answers, like Cindy.
t r u t h o u t | One Mother's Stand
By William Rivers Pitt
Thursday 11 August 2005
6:49 PM
The sun is finally beginning to set behind a small line of trees, and the crowd has begun to thin out. The official count for today's gathering was 705, not counting press. Given the fact that we are in a drainage ditch by the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, that is a great number.
It will grow tomorrow again.
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