A Mile of Flags

By Cindy Sheehan
t r u t h o u t | Guest Contributor

Tuesday 02 January 2007

Gerald Ford is dead. Every time I get a chance to turn on the TV, I am incessantly reminded of this fact.

His body is lying in state on the same structure that has held up every dead president's body since Abraham Lincoln. His widow constantly has a military honor guard to support her, sometimes even physically. The flag-draped coffin is never left alone: There is always a military presence there to guard and honor the body. We have seen Ford's flag-draped coffin entering and exiting planes and cars. The tradition can be quite moving at times, but, to me, also quite frustrating and gut-wrenching.

On April 4, 2004, my son Casey was killed in Iraq. Between April 4 and April 10, we had no idea how Casey was killed, or what condition his body was in. We heard from a friend's son-in-law, who was stationed at Dover Air Force Base, that he had "unloaded" Casey from the transport plane that brought him from God knows where. Baghdad? Germany? Ireland, where he had just passed through alive barely three weeks earlier? On April 9 (Casey's grandpa's birthday), we heard that he would be delivered to San Francisco International Airport the following day.

The limo from the funeral home picked us up around noon. Casey's dad, brother, sisters, my Mom, his Auntie, I, and a few close friends took our final ride to pick Casey up from the airport on his final trip home. I couldn't get it out of my mind that we had joyfully picked him up from the Sacramento airport less than four months earlier, when he had come home for his last Christmas on earth.

The trip from Vacaville to the City by the Bay is never fun - there is always heavy traffic, but Saturdays are definitely the worst. San Francisco is certainly a popular weekend destination. This trip to "The City," as we Northern Californians call it, would be the most nightmarish trip of my life.

When we arrived at SFO, our limo pulled up to the United Airlines loading dock. Casey's body, in his coffin and wrapped in a box, had already arrived. We stood around and watched the United dock workers load Casey into the back of the hearse. If I remember correctly, about 99 percent of Casey's collected loved ones were sobbing uncontrollably and trying to comfort each other. The reamining one percent stood alone in anguished and shocked bewilderment. This is the "honorable" way that Casey was delivered to us. To make matters worse, his "honor" guard wasn't with us yet, so we had to sit on the curb under a 101 Freeway off-ramp for over 30 minutes, waiting for him.

On December 31st, our 3,000th child was killed for the lies of another president. While Gerald Ford lies in state, our 3,000th troop will be brought home on his final airplane flight in the cargo area. This fine young example of humanity will be sneaked into the US as if he, and not his commander in chief, were a criminal. His family will be left to mourn alone, and his body will not be guarded night and day. After the funeral (which Bloody George will not attend), he will be forgotten by the country that sent him to die in a war that is as corrupt as the day is long, but his family will never be able to recover from his loss.

The news channels are infusing us with coverage of Ford's pomp and circumstance. CNN Headline News gave 10 seconds to the 3,000th American casualty of the Iraq bloody blunder. Why is a soldier's life less honorable than a president's? If our soldiers are worthless to the American people, where do the 655,000 innocent Iraqis who have been slaughtered by Bloody BushCo fit into daily consumeristic consciousness?

Yesterday, Camp Casey in Crawford, Texas, placed 3,000 American flags down Prairie Chapel Road. The flags, which we planted 12 to 16 inches apart, extended for approximately a mile on each side of the road. The visual was somber, touching, and very reverent. We decided that yesterday was not a day for politics, but a day to honor our young people who have been so dishonored by the man on that same road, who spends his days clearing brush while contemplating signing more death orders and his nights sleeping like a baby.

Being a peace activist is not a very safe position in Crawford, Texas. One of our neighbors came out with a shotgun and threatened to shoot if we put flags in front of her property. Since the ditches are public property, and we believe that we are honoring the brave souls who are brave and dedicated, we put some in front of her home. When one of our Camp Caseyites went back this morning to pick up the flags, she had broken every one of them that we had put in front of her house. We already knew that many people in Crawford hate the sight of crosses, but we thought that the American flag would be a safe symbol that all of us, being patriotic Americans every one, could agree upon. Apparently, some people don't like to visualize a number that was made possible by their support of serial killers.

After we had finished our memorial to our fallen heroes, we ciphered out a very sobering visual. If we put a symbol for each Iraqi death along a road, it would take up 220 miles of road - on each side! That road would stretch from Crawford to Houston. From Baghdad to Vacaville, and from Falluja to Crawford, and many points along the way, the heartache and mayhem just continue. Sorrow for war is borne by loving, caring families on both sides of the conflict, and profit and satisfaction are borne with callous disregard for humanity on the other side - while any kind of physical, financial, emotional, or political risk is minimal to the warmongers, to say the least.

While millions of Americans - ordinary citizens, politicians, or news media - were very busy NOT thinking of 655,000-plus lives stolen and millions more lives destroyed, we at Camp Casey spent New Year's Eve day with our sorrow and with our devastating and totally uncalled-for and unnecessary losses.

May 2007 make such memorials obsolete.

The sorrow for the ones already gone will always be with us, but only grassroots activism that is unrelenting and heartfelt will prevent more sorrow.

May 2007 see a massive dedication, or re-dedication, to a Peace Surge.

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In Search of Peace is a series of reflections on Cindy's journey towards true and lasting peace.

Cindy Sheehan is the mother of Spc. Casey Sheehan, who was killed in Bush's war of terror on April 4, 2004. She is the co-founder and president of Gold Star Families for Peace and the Camp Casey Peace Institute. She is the author of three books. The most recent is Peace Mom: A Mother's Journey Through Heartache to Activism.

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