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View Diary: The 3 a.m phone call: A uniquely American Story (45 comments)

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  •  States and stadium echoes of gunshots and grief (5+ / 0-)

    Your diary made that so clear
    We might hear the statistics but all of those numbers have names and all of those names have a circle of names wounded by the same gun
    The moms and the dads, grandmas and grandpas and aunts and uncle and cousins and neighbors and work friends and customers and
    The sons and the daughters, those left behind and those who never get a chance to be born, losing generations.

    Different levels of wounding, differing scars, some scars invisible, some we can see
    But your diary made clear those echoes going on and on

    I think echoes because when I was a child I thought about being a child in a war zone and I remember a line from a poem I wrote then
    Sounds of gunshots echo through the valley
    and will echo long after guns have ceased

    It doesn't end when the news of it does.

    Remembering when I had young kids and they'd start playing war or shooting games with sticks or fingers as their guns. I'd say things like "Oh you must really love each other because all we shoot here are love rays." They'd insist they were bullets and I'd say bullets of love. "You ruined it" but they'd laugh.
    Oh that it was true on this planet. Love rays and killing them with kindness.

    Striking diary. Thank you

    •  Thank you for (5+ / 0-)

      your poignant comment and kind words.  I sometimes think of Yeats Easter 1916:

      Too long a sacrifice
      Can make a stone of the heart.
      O when may it suffice?
      That is heaven's part, our part
      To murmur name upon name,
      As a mother names her child
      When sleep at last has come
      On limbs that had run wild.
      What is it but nightfall?
      No, no, not night but death.
      Was it needless death after all?
      For England may keep faith
      For all that is done and said.
      We know their dream; enough
      To know they dreamed and are dead.
      And what if excess of love
      Bewildered them till they died?
      I write it out in a verse --
      MacDonagh and MacBride
      And Connolly and Pearse
      Now and in time to be,
      Wherever green is worn,
      Are changed, changed utterly:
      A terrible beauty is born.

      Justice For Will Will spent his brief, courageous life fighting for the rights we all take for granted. Please share his story to support the fight!

      by KibbutzAmiad on Tue Apr 09, 2013 at 01:57:46 PM PDT

      [ Parent ]

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