Jake, Kurt and I loaded up the car this morning and headed out to the School of Americas Watch (SOAW) at Ft Benning in Columbus.
Didn’t know what to expect…I think of the three of us, only Kurt had been there as a participant before. Jake wanted to see what all the fuss was about and I wanted to get pictures.
For awhile it seemed like it was some type of commercial venture pushed up against the Carnivale in Buenos Aires. Heck, it cost us $10 just to park and I’m betting the guys we paid the money to didn’t even own the lot that we parked in…capitalism at it’s best I guess.
Well, we forked over the $10 and walked on. The street leading up to the Main Gate was blocked off and vendors were lined up on both sides of the road. Really gave everything the air of a street festival.
This is the protest I thought? Sheesh…what happened to REAL protests like we had in the 60s and 70s? Where was the marching, the chanting, the in-your-face-taunting? Someone needs to teach these folks how to protest.
We walked on. Then I got the first shock. Standing right infront of me was this man that was painted up with “Study War No More” on him. You can see a picture of him here. Wow…this is getting real. Well, the impact of seeing him there was dulled by more street vendors. Folks selling t-shirts, buttons, bumper stickers, hot dogs, coffee and general “stuff”.
Ok, I can deal with it. I’ll wander around and get some photos and be ready to go. And I got some cool shots. I quit counting at 1100 pictures, and you can see more of them at the blog I set up to show them. Wandered down past the vendors, up infront of the stage and then back down the other side of the street.
And I saw “her”. And not just “her”, but others dressed like “her”. Actually, I almost ran into “her” before I saw “her”. She was standing there as you see her in the picture with this blog.
Damn…this stuff is getting real. And then the most amazing thing happened.
A procession of all the participants started. Someone or several someones on the stage started reading off the names and ages of people that have been killed in Latin American countries. When each name was called off, the folks in the procession would call out “Presente” and hold up a small cross they were carrying.
Slowly, almost imperceptible at first, the vendors slowly hushed. The crowd become quiet. All you could hear was the voice of the speaker reading off a name and the procession calling out “Presente”. This was repeated…again…and again…and again. My skepticism didn’t matter.
I felt chills first. And then I felt like someone slugged me in the gut. This was powerful. Beyond words…beyond my expectations. And then it hit me in the face.
Regardless of what a person believes is or is not being taught at the School of Americas, the names being called out were real people who had died real deaths. Suddenly, instead of being nameless and faceless victims on CNN or in The Washington Post, these were people who had been alive.
They had families that grieved their death. They had friends that mourned their passing. One moment they were breathing, talking, maybe laughing or crying and the next moment they were hurled violently into eternity.
Yah…this protest was different than any I remember in the 60s or 70s. Then we had noise without substance. Today the protestors had substance without noise.
