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Monday 11:26pm Crawford Report 2; Finian was insistent that we go swimming before going to the camp so we got a late start. As we entered Crawford, we were greeted by a large billboard that reads Welcome to Crawford and has a picture of Laura Bush and George W Bush making a thumbs up sign. While parking along a small street lined with trailers and rusting trucks, I noticed a gray car parked in front of ours. In the back window was a large poster bearing the face of smiling young soldier. Next to his picture were the words: “Bring My Son Home Now! He doesn’t deserve to die for a lie.” At Peace House, we exchanged stories with others who were there to join the vigil. I did a live blog about the St. Patrick Four for an Air America Station in Phoenix while Finian and I unloaded 200 bags of ice that someone had spontaneously showed up with in the back of their pick up truck as a donation. Eventually, we took a shuttle van out to Camp Casey. There was a pleasant breeze and some shade so it wasn’t too hot. Finian quickly met up with a little girl named Heide and they began playing together. We spent most of the afternoon visiting with others along the very narrow strip (on average about 10feet) strip of road easement that we are allowed to stand on. We visited with one woman whose husband is in Iraq. We talked with another whose husband is in the reserves. I met another man whose brother was in Vietnam and just died from Agent Orange poisoning after years of sickness. We watched as Cindy spoke powerfully about her desire to speak with President Bush, the illegality of the war and her grief about her son’s unnecessary death with MSNBC’s hardball and with CNN. Later in the afternoon we were part of a prayer service that took place along the road where the crosses remembering the soldiers. It was led by a wonderful young reverend from Harlem whose name I can’t remember right now. Finian wanted to know what the crosses were and why he could not uproot them, I explained that they we had to respect them because they helped us remember people who were dead. Next he asked the same question everyone else at Camp Casey is asking: “Why did they die?” One large sign bears a photo of the soldiers killed in Iraq. Another sign is a map of the United States cut out of metal. Written on it in chalk is the number 1854 for number of US service people killed. Gloria, an American airlines retiree who drove the shuttle that delivered us back to Peace house, explained to me that she had driven from San Diego with her friend, whose son is in the reserves, because “she felt like she just had to be there and support Cindy.” She also said she came of her seven year old grandson and her concern about what the future might hold for him. Staying at our hotel is a group of grain farmers in their seventies who drove down from Oklahoma because they wanted to support Cindy.
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