MEMORIES of Killing..


A True Spirit 1

Morningtime..A time of clean mind and spirit.. one of many..

Coming back to the main base it was a usual rainy morning on Guam.  Anderson Air Force Base was finally renovated after typhoon Karen had blasted us damn near off the island.  

During the first half of the storm I saw a four inch thick.. reback enforced.. door overhang on a security building flapping like a piece of paper in the wind.. witnessed from a bulletproof observation window in our security building..

During the eye.. probably because I was the only one present with an international driver’s license.. I drove to the mess hall to get food.. something ignored as we watched the storm change from tropical.. to typhoon.. to dead on to Guam trajectory.. I took a two ton truck.. similar to the ones smashed.. over on their sides.. vehicles on top of two story buildings.. and so on..

Hours later on as the second half of that windy wahoo blew northward toward Okinawa.. I contacted Fuchu, Japan making the first off Guam’trust territory’ communication.. finding Fuchu, Japan on 6730.5 CW.. (morse code)..  

Back to the Killing which made a storm of its own.. the ‘Cuban Missile Crisis’ had the United States training Cubans who liked things as they were.. training at Lackland AFB and other places to regain this close.. strategic piece of real estate.. called ‘Cuba’.

As history will reflect the ‘invasion’ was a failure.. my point is.. Kennedy was subject to a great many opinions.. of a great many living.. thinking folks.. world wide.. and political.  

I got a ride with a friend to the base.. as we approached the rear gate of Anderson..  we were stopped by a tense Air Policeman.. I showed him my ‘line badge’ and asked what was going on.. He replied.. ‘our president was assassinated this morning’.  

I.. in shock.. said ‘People don’t get assassinated in this time.. it is 1963.. heartbreak and disappointment shot through my heart.. the U.S… as well as our base quickly.. race disappointment almost turning to confused violent blame of innocents.. (though there really are 5th generation KKK education..not violence answers these social blurbs).. as well as actual recipients of racial horrors you young can only imagine.  

One voice stands out of all those who had something to say.. something they wanted heard.. a tall black man standing on a table said in even firm tones..

‘He killed a man.. that’s all.. he killed a man’..

This left me and others I saw.. the hopes.. a path following and making real.. dreams of a free and equal state to be set out and pursued.. the amount of interracial couples.. now.. a black president.. the first.. of great peaceful accomplishment and recognition of medical need and definition of words like ‘education’.. ‘truth’.. and universal living needs.. tireless civil rights work has shown us the fruits of faith and labors.. foundationed on unwavering love and constructive endeavor.. it has shown us.. time and again what a poor purpose vengeance brings forth.. taking us in circle back in time.. again and again.. as technology.. art and science move forward to be used in ignorant pretense.. or great example..

without truth there are only lies.. childish dreams that hobble what is needed most.. truth.. that we may trust.. standing in loving foundation of life.. 

Peace Tony

©AC.22.11.15.arr././

 

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About cryinforthedyin

I write philosophy and poetry. I postulate solutions for problems..I find similiar things in history to compare to present day, hoping to find a solution to the seemingly difficult task of giving and receiving love. I play music. Blues harp, piano, guitar, electric and acoustic. I sing..I love to sing..Peace Tony
This entry was posted in Ability to Recognize, ACLU, Amnesty International, art, ASCAP (American Society of Composers Authors and Publishers, Assassination, Betrayal, BILL OF RIGHTS, CIVIL RIGHTS, Conspiritors of Woe, Discipline to Calm, Dream true, Egalitarian Society, Eternal Actions, FEAR, Folklore, Freedom, Honor, Human Behavior and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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