On a Roll
American Future has been on such a tear that it's almost enough to make you wish for more Florida hurricane's (Mark lives near Naples).
He digs up this brutal account of a grieving military family in Dallas that was lured to a candlelight vigil, a "Service of Mourning & Remembrance for 1,000 U.S. military war dead in Iraq," supposedly a non-political event. The family in question was that of the young man somehow identified as the 1,000th casualty.
[Then as now, the anti-war groups, abeted by the media, were salivating after that big round number of dead Americans. This media fetish for round numbers might have a modicum of relevance in anniversaries, when the round toll of years offers a chance to measure distances and changes. With battlefield deaths, it's purely an excuse to get exercised and indignant. Two thousand deaths in 31 months in Iraq. Compared to what? More than 2,000 a month KIA from the North alone averaged over the Civil War? Each death is a tragedy. As the dead soldier's sister says, "It wouldn't matter if he was number six or 2,000. He was over there fighting for you and me."]
A glance at some of the organizers' affiliations in the Dallas vigil ought to give you sufficient clue to where this is going: MoveOn.org, democraticunderground.com, Military Families Speak Out, the Dallas Peace Center's "End the Occupation of Iraq Committee."
The event ended in "a screaming confrontation between the family of a fallen soldier and members of the Dallas Peace Center."
"We got tricked," says Kathy Herriage, a family friend of the soldier.
It's a sad story, but there's a comic undertone to the peace protesters' protestations of innocense in the whole affair. I don't know which is most rich. You could pick the insistence by Hadi Jawad, coordinator of the "End the Occupation of Iraq Committee," that the drums were merely supposed to symbolize heartbeats, and that the bullhorns were simply to help people hear some elderly ministers speaking.
Or you could pick the Peace Center woman's shock -- shock! that political activists showed up, even though, "I had invited people to come who I know through democraticunderground.com. We really were trying to make it a space where we could come together and put aside all our differences and honor all the lives that have been lost."
Suuuuuuure, lady.
He digs up this brutal account of a grieving military family in Dallas that was lured to a candlelight vigil, a "Service of Mourning & Remembrance for 1,000 U.S. military war dead in Iraq," supposedly a non-political event. The family in question was that of the young man somehow identified as the 1,000th casualty.
[Then as now, the anti-war groups, abeted by the media, were salivating after that big round number of dead Americans. This media fetish for round numbers might have a modicum of relevance in anniversaries, when the round toll of years offers a chance to measure distances and changes. With battlefield deaths, it's purely an excuse to get exercised and indignant. Two thousand deaths in 31 months in Iraq. Compared to what? More than 2,000 a month KIA from the North alone averaged over the Civil War? Each death is a tragedy. As the dead soldier's sister says, "It wouldn't matter if he was number six or 2,000. He was over there fighting for you and me."]
A glance at some of the organizers' affiliations in the Dallas vigil ought to give you sufficient clue to where this is going: MoveOn.org, democraticunderground.com, Military Families Speak Out, the Dallas Peace Center's "End the Occupation of Iraq Committee."
The event ended in "a screaming confrontation between the family of a fallen soldier and members of the Dallas Peace Center."
"We got tricked," says Kathy Herriage, a family friend of the soldier.
About 20 of Drake's relatives arrived at Dallas City Hall just before 7 p.m. When the family arrived, only a handful of people were there, Herriage says, though they could hear drums. "I thought there was a band. Then it just didn't feel right. I could tell it wasn't like a marching band."
Herriage says a woman approached them and asked if they were there for the vigil. Mrs. Drake introduced herself and asked about the drums. "If this is some kind of protest," Mrs. Drake said, "I'm not going to participate."
Bollenbacher introduced herself and reassured her: "Oh, no, we're just here to comfort you in your grief."
Mrs. Drake saw a man with a basket full of fliers accusing Bush of war crimes. Bollenbacher again reassured her.
"I had told him he couldn't hand those out," Bollenbacher says, but she allowed a banner that read "Vets for Peace."
The Drakes saw that banner and then realized the drummer was wearing a T-shirt that said "Drums Not Guns." Believing it was an anti-war protest, Mrs. Drake burst into tears. She started screaming, "Somebody has lied to me."
Herriage says the situation turned even uglier when another woman walked over, grabbed the weeping Mrs. Drake and shook her. "She said, 'Shut up and I'll explain our cause to you,'" Herriage says. "That's when Ginger went ballistic."
It's a sad story, but there's a comic undertone to the peace protesters' protestations of innocense in the whole affair. I don't know which is most rich. You could pick the insistence by Hadi Jawad, coordinator of the "End the Occupation of Iraq Committee," that the drums were merely supposed to symbolize heartbeats, and that the bullhorns were simply to help people hear some elderly ministers speaking.
Or you could pick the Peace Center woman's shock -- shock! that political activists showed up, even though, "I had invited people to come who I know through democraticunderground.com. We really were trying to make it a space where we could come together and put aside all our differences and honor all the lives that have been lost."
Suuuuuuure, lady.
