Letting go of fear, ill will, and my trusty six-gun, Dec. 7, 2002

More fearful demons live in our imagination than ever lived on earth. ~Brad Brown

Well, they didn’t pry it out of my cold, dead hands. But my only remaining firearm has just left the premises.

Having grown up and lived in the South I’ve owned shotguns, .22 rifles, and an assortment of handguns. But over the years, my collection had dwindled to one old revolver that I kept in the bottom of my T-shirt drawer, a place where it would be handy if danger arose. My ability to actually use the pistol in an emergency was doubtful, however, since my wife, Shonnie, had only agreed to keep it in the house if it was unloaded.

What, you might ask, motivated me to hand over the gun to local law enforcement authorities? I got rid of it in response to a well-timed question about my possession of it by Shonnie after we saw Michael Moore’s movie Bowling for Columbine. The question: “What are you afraid of, Bruce?”

You see, the central theme of Moore’s documentary is the high level of fear that prevails in America—a fear that’s fed by the media (If it bleeds, it leads.), by our political leaders (Osama’s going to get you if you don’t watch out!) and by our own minds (We’ve got to get them before they get us.).

In times like these it’s not difficult to get caught up in this anxiety and trepidation. And that’s where I found myself until Bowling for Columbine and Shonnie’s question hit me with the force of a two-by-four upside the head. The truth that I realized in that moment: I have no need of the pistol because my fears have no foundation. I’m probably more likely to be killed talking on a cell phone while driving than by someone breaking into my home. Another case of FEAR—False Evidence Appearing Real.

When the government’s color-coded terror alert system is raised a notch, I always have a choice: I can react by buying guns, installing a security system, supporting the expenditure of billions of additional dollars on armaments and cuddling up to my TV. Or I can realize that not even the highest ranking or most brilliant official in the CIA, FBI, or other agency can predict the future and live my life accordingly.

Near the end of Bowling for Columbine I got another proverbial whack on the head as I watched Charlton Heston shuffle off after an interview with Moore. I realized in that moment how angry I’d been at Heston, at Bush, at Cheney, at Daschle, and all the rest and how fearful I’d been about the momentum that was building toward war. But when I got this wake-up call, I understood that each of us is connected in some mysterious way and that I am then linked with this aging man as well. I may not agree with much of what Heston stands for, but I can nonetheless feel deep compassion for him as a fellow human being.

In order to live a life of joy, love, and consciousness, it is essential that I cleanse myself of ill will including the resentments I hold toward those who appear to be leading us in the wrong direction. I must free myself from the downward spiral of fear so that I may see my vision for myself and my world more clearly. I must take time to regularly connect with that inner part of myself—my heart, my soul, my intuition—that knows. I must discern right action in confronting my challenges and make choices from the multitude of possibilities that exist rather than reacting and falling into old, automatic behaviors. I must liberate myself from the hope that the man on the white horse is coming to lead us to a better future. I am the one who is responsible for the quality of my life; me and me alone.

Monday, January 17th, 2011

“Christmas in the Trenches,” a song of peace by John McCutcheon

John McCutcheon’s evocative song, “Christmas in the Trenches,” is based on a true story about how peace broke out one Christmas during World War I. For me, this song is about the love and compassion within each of us that we are somehow more willing to express during this season of the year.

The lyrics are below. And you can buy the book Christmas in the Trenches with a CD of John singing the song by clicking here.

Christmas in the Trenches
By John McCutcheon

My name is Francis Tolliver, I come from Liverpool,
Two years ago the war was waiting for me after school.
To Belgium and to Flanders to Germany to here
I fought for King and country I love dear.

‘Twas Christmas in the trenches where the frost so bitter hung,
The frozen fields of France were still, no Christmas song was sung,
Our families back in England were toasting us that day,
Their brave and glorious lads so far away.

I was lying with my messmate on the cold and rocky ground
When across the lines of battle came a most peculiar sound
Says I, “Now listen up, me boys!” each soldier strained to hear
As one young German voice sang out so clear.

“He’s singing bloody well, you know!” my partner says to me
Soon one by one each German voice joined in in harmony
The cannons rested silent, the gas clouds rolled no more
As Christmas brought us respite from the war.

As soon as they were finished and a reverent pause was spent
“God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” struck up some lads from Kent
The next they sang was “Stille Nacht,” “Tis ‘Silent Night’,” says I
And in two tongues one song filled up that sky.

“There’s someone coming towards us!” the front line sentry cried
All sights were fixed on one lone figure coming from their side
His truce flag, like a Christmas star, shone on that plain so bright
As he bravely strode unarmed into the night.

Soon one by one on either side walked into No Man’s land
With neither gun nor bayonet we met there hand to hand
We shared some secret brandy and we wished each other well
And in a flare-lit soccer game we gave ‘em hell.

We traded chocolates, cigarettes, and photographs from home
These sons and fathers far away from families of their own
Young Sanders played his squeeze box and they had a violin
This curious and unlikely band of men.

Soon daylight stole upon us and France was France once more
With sad farewells we each began to settle back to war
But the question haunted every heart that lived that wondrous night
“Whose family have I fixed within my sights?”

‘Twas Christmas in the trenches, where the frost so bitter hung
The frozen fields of France were warmed as songs of peace were sung
For the walls they’d kept between us to exact the work of war
Had been crumbled and were gone for evermore.

My name is Francis Tolliver, in Liverpool I dwell
Each Christmas come since World War I I’ve learned its lessons well
That the ones who call the shots won’t be among the dead and lame
And on each end of the rifle we’re the same.

* * *

Thursday, December 23rd, 2010

On Memorial Day 2009

Andy Rooney explains his views of the true meaning of Memorial Day in this short video. Plus, below the video, a repost about my visit to the Vietnam Veterans’ Memorial in Washington, D.C.

* * *

I walked along that long black wall, crying in the rain.
For all those men who’ve touched our lives, we’ll never see again.

I was walking toward the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C., a few years ago when I spotted it. I knew I would make my pilgrimage to the Vietnam Veterans’ Memorial one day. I just didn’t know it would be today. But, to my surprise, there it was—The Wall, the black granite monument inscribed with the names of the 58,178 American men and women who died in the Vietnam War.

I am one of those who stood against this war, one of my generation who refused to serve, one who believed the war was wrong. In my youthful impertinence, I rebuked the politicians and generals who led us down this slippery slope. If LBJ or Tricky Dick wanted a war, I thought, let them go over there and mud wrestle with Uncle Ho one-on-one, winner take all. To paraphrase Muhammad Ali, ain’t no Viet Cong ever called me honkie. But the truth is, I also scorned the men and women who served in Vietnam. And while I make no apology for my stance for peace, on this spring day I knew it was time to atone for my lack of respect and unloving behavior toward our servicemen and servicewomen who had done the best they could do in a difficult situation.

The first name I searched for on The Wall was that of Kenneth Kirkes, my classmate and football teammate at Tullahoma (Tennessee) High School in the early ’60s. Kenneth Lee Kirkes, Marine Corps, Second Lieutenant, born on October 8, 1944. His tour of duty began on December 11, 1967. He was killed by hostile small arms fire on February 9, 1968.

Kenneth and I, along with a few of our friends, had been involved in the Ketchup Corpse Caper that folks still talk about in our little hometown of Tullahoma, Tennessee. As a teenage prank, one of our group got in the trunk of a ’53 Chevy and draped his arm over the rear bumper. The rest of us poured ketchup on the protruding arm, and we proceeded to local service stations where we asked to borrow a shovel. We got the reaction we expected from the service station attendants; what we didn’t anticipate was the long arm of the law. City, county, and state law enforcement officials responded in force, and though most everyone else thought the whole thing was hilarious, we were charged with impersonating a corpse. At our trial we received a severe tongue-lashing and a veiled threat of being shipped to the state reform school for boys.

When I found Kenneth’s name on The Wall, I traced it with my fingers. I remembered our times together, and the fact that he was his parents’ only son. In deep remorse, I kneeled, shut my eyes, and brought him into my consciousness. As tears of regret and sorrow streamed down my face, I admitted my transgressions and pleaded for his forgiveness.

Next I found the name of Dale Reich, my college classmate and football teammate at the University of the South at Sewanee, Tennessee. I still remember Dale’s rousing rendition of the Rolling Stones “Get Off of My Cloud” as we celebrated winning the last game of our final football season at Sewanee, a season in which we suffered only one loss. Dale was not large physically, but pound-for-pound he was arguably the toughest guy on the team.

I found Dale’s name on panel 65W: Merrill Dale Reich Jr., Army, First Lieutenant, born on July 8, 1944. His Vietnam tour began on May 15, 1968, and ended when he was killed by hostile small arms fire on May 27, 1968. Twelve days after his arrival in Vietnam, Dale was dead.

I brought Dale into my mind’s eye and asked him too to forgive me. And then I expanded my prayer for forgiveness to all of the men and women whose names were on that wall and to all of those who had served in the Vietnam War. My load had lightened, but the most challenging step was still to come. Now it was time to forgive myself.

Monday, May 25th, 2009

Let’s support our troops while we work to bring them home now.

I wrote most of this post on Memorial Day but didn’t have a chance to complete and post it until today.

* * *

On Memorial Day, which falls on the last Monday of May, our nation honors the men and women who died in military service to our nation.

There are a lot of them to honor. Below are our ten most lethal wars ranked by total deaths of American soldiers from Wikipedia:

1. American Civil War (1861–1865): 625,000 deaths

2. World War II (1941–1945): 405,399 deaths

3. World War I (1917–1918): 116,516 deaths

4. Vietnam War (1964–1973): 58,151 deaths

5. Korean War (1950–1953): 36,516 deaths

6. Revolutionary War (1775–1783): 25,000 deaths

7. War of 1812 (1812–1815): 20,000 deaths

8. Mexican-American War (1846–1848): 13,283 deaths

9. Philippine War (1899–1902): 4,196 deaths

10. Iraq War (2003–present) 4,079 deaths

These, of course, are the numbers of members of our armed forces who died. And while these are truly significant, we might want to consider the total number of deaths in the wars in which our nation has enaged. For example, the total estimated human loss of life for World War II was 72 million people. The estimated total number of deaths in the Vietnam War total is more than three million. And in Iraq some estimate that more than one million Iraqi civilians have died thus far.

On this day of remembrance songs are sung, speeches are made, graves are decorated, lost loved ones are honored, sacrifices during time of war recalled.

But as columnist Mark Shields points out in a March 21 appearance on The News Hour with Jim Lehrer, our military personnel and their families have borne the entire brunt of the current war:

[W]e went to war against a country that had never attacked us, that never threatened us, on the bogus claim that that country had weapons of mass destruction which were a threat to us.

And it was not a moral war, and it was not a just war. It was a war in which the United States sullied, stained and repealed one of the great American values, that is that, in wartime, war demands equality of sacrifice.

All the sacrifice in this war has been borne by the one percent of Americans who are in uniform and their families. The rest of us have been quietly by, especially those of us who opposed the war, and been moral defectors.

We haven’t protested the fact that this is a war that our children and grandchildren will pay for. We haven’t even—we’ve blithely accepted tax cuts, and no draft, and no burden, paid no price, bore no burden, and accepted leadership that demanded nothing of us, and we’ve demanded nothing of them.

So how do we shoulder our share the sacrifice during war time, during this war? First and foremost, we immediately tell our elected officials to stop sending the men and women of our armed forces to fight in unnecessary and futile (not to mention illegal and immoral) conflicts and demand that they bring those who are in harm’s way home right now.

By no standard was the Iraq War necessary; the theoretical reasons to participate in this ill-advised and reckless military adventure were concocted in the dark, paranoid imaginations of deeply flawed men like George W. Bush and Dick Cheney, ballyhooed by print and television pundits and marketed to us like laundry detergent or the latest cure for a limp penis.

Regardless, however, we’re not off the hook. We, the people of this nation, have a responsibility for what has happened, for what is still happening. We have elected politicians who have voted to create the most massive war machine ever known on earth. We have elected and re-elected a president who thinks the best way to honor the troops is to give up golf. We have become consumers—of stuff, of TV, of antidepressants, of the mainstream media’s bullshit—rather than engaged citizens who will take action to stop the slaughter.

So what can we do around this Memorial Day to make a difference, to help bring our nation to its senses?

We can work to elect leaders who pledge to defend our country and who will engage the other nations of the world as partners, rather than endeavoring to bully other peoples into submission. We can let our elected representatives know that we will no longer tolerate the huge sums of money being spent on armaments while so little is spent on education, health care, healing the environment, rebuilding our infrastructure, etc. We can consider becoming a war tax resister.

One very important thing: Instead of spending your tax rebate on a vacation or wide-screen television set, how about using it to support those who have been making all the sacrifices in the Iraq and Afghanistan Wars and who have been getting short shrift on their return—the men and women of our armed forces and their families.

While our troops are overseas, their families need our support. When they return to the U.S., they may need it even more. Let’s stand together to show our gratitude, and let them know that we stand with them.

Click on the links below to find out more about worthy organizations that provide services for our troops and their families.

America Supports You — Lists numerous ways to offer support to troops (includes financial assistance, care packages, family member support, scholarships, support for wounded)

AnySoldier — Gives you contact info for deployed troops along with their specific requests for care packages

Forgotten Soldiers Outreach — Allows you to write to soldiers or send them care packages

National Veterans Foundation — Donate to help those who have served our country and their families.

SoldiersAngels — Offers a variety of ways to support soldiers during and after deployment

Swords to Plowshares — Donate to help heal the wounds and to restore dignity, hope and self-sufficiency to all veterans in need

Wounded Warrior Project — Donate to help meet the needs of wounded soldiers

Thursday, May 29th, 2008

U.S. ranks 97th in peace index

Surprise, surprise! The 2008 Global Peace Index ranked the United States 97th out of 140 countries in terms of their level of peacefulness. The index ranks nations according to how peaceful they were domestically and how they interacted with the outside world. It looks at 24 indicators of external and internal measures of peace, including:

• Number of external and internal conflicts fought: 2001-06
• Estimated number of deaths from organized conflict
• Military expenditure as a percentage of GDP
• Number of jailed population per 100,000 people
• Level of violent crime
• Level of disrespect for human rights

The ten most peaceful nations are:

1. Iceland
2. Denmark
3. Norway
4. New Zealand
5. Japan
6. Ireland
7. Portugal
8. Finland
9. Luxembourg
10. Austria

By the way, Iran ranks 105th and dead last is Iraq–140th.

Wednesday, May 21st, 2008

Michelle Obama touches a soldier’s heart

My son-in-law Brandon is now in Iraq serving what looks to be a 15-month tour, based on Bush’s remarks yesterday, so the war and those making the sacrifices (our military and their families) has been on my mind of late. On this note, below is an evocative message from a young soldier on the NC for Obama e-mail list at my.BarackObama.com.

My name’s Bryan, and i usually don’t post or send emails to the whole group, but i wanted to share something with you.

I am a active duty member of the US ARMY, i’m 18, and i will be leaving for my first deployment in iraq next tuesday. When i heard that Michelle Obama was coming to Raleigh, NC, i was exited, and i drove up from Fayetteville with a friend to go see her speak. As i sat there during her speech, it dawned on me that Barack and his wife are just like all of us … with the same struggles, hardships, and heartaches that we all “regular people” experience … and i will never ever stereotype him as “just another politician” again. I was stunned by the motivation, and the intensity of the crowd, not to mention hearing one of the best speeches i’ve heard in a while.

So after Mrs. Obama was done, she made her rounds shaking hands and signing autographs, and when she came to me? well i handed here a $20 dollar bill and asked her to autograph it for me (it was all i had in my pocket). i told her that i was deploying to iraq next week, and that i hope that her and her husband will do everything in there power to bring us home. she stared at me and for a second and i saw so much compassion in her, i think i turned red. she then asked me if she could get a hug, and told me to stay safe, and that they will work hard to bring us home. but the words was not what affected me, it was her emotion and compassion that was shared, it was amazing … i never have seen or felt a emotional connection with a “politician” before! that’s when i knew that this was the man and woman i wanted for the top job. they represent the things that so many of us represent, honesty, compassion, family, respect, and so many more … so she gave back my 20 dollar bill (it was not signed because she was not allowed to sign money), got a piece of paper and wrote me a note and signed it. she gave it to me, and with another hug she wished me luck and moved on to the next person.

I hope that every person will be able to share a connection with the Obamas … it’s truly amazing!!!

May peace be with you, Brandon, Bryan and all others in harm’s way. May you be back home soon.

Thursday, April 10th, 2008

One day of the Iraq War costs $720 million

One day of the Iraq War costs $720 million. Watch this short video from the American Friends Service Committee to discover what else we could be doing with this money.

Note: Mozilla Firefox users, merely click on the play button on the video player below. Internet Explorer users, you likely will not see the video player, so click on the link to view the video at the YouTube website.

If you are encountering challenges trying to watch this video using Internet Explorer, I recommend switching to Mozilla Firefox as your default web browser. It’s free and easy to download.

Saturday, February 9th, 2008

“Christmas in the Trenches” by John McCutcheon

I still vividly remember the best Christmas present I ever got—a maroon Western Flyer bicycle. I was six, maybe seven, years old, and early on that chilly Christmas morning, my dad ran along side me holding me up as I frantically pedaled my one-speed bike. Unexpectedly he let go, and lo and behold, I was riding on my own! It was pure magic, a feeling of freedom deeply embedded in my consciousness even now.

That was almost 60 Christmases ago. And as I contemplate the gift I want for myself, for Shonnie, for my child (who’s nearing 40 now), my grandkids, for all my family and friends, for the people of the planet; it’s the thing we talk about around this time every year but that somehow continues to elude us: Peace on Earth.

Click on the play button below to watch a video production of John McCutcheon’s evocative song, “Christmas in the Trenches” based on a true story about how peace broke out one Christmas during World War I. The lyrics are below. And you can buy the book Christmas in the Trenches with a CD of John singing the song by clicking here.

Christmas in the Trenches
By John McCutcheon

My name is Francis Tolliver, I come from Liverpool,
Two years ago the war was waiting for me after school.
To Belgium and to Flanders to Germany to here
I fought for King and country I love dear.

‘Twas Christmas in the trenches where the frost so bitter hung,
The frozen fields of France were still, no Christmas song was sung,
Our families back in England were toasting us that day,
Their brave and glorious lads so far away.

I was lying with my messmate on the cold and rocky ground
When across the lines of battle came a most peculiar sound
Says I, “Now listen up, me boys!” each soldier strained to hear
As one young German voice sang out so clear.

“He’s singing bloody well, you know!” my partner says to me
Soon one by one each German voice joined in in harmony
The cannons rested silent, the gas clouds rolled no more
As Christmas brought us respite from the war.

As soon as they were finished and a reverent pause was spent
“God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” struck up some lads from Kent
The next they sang was “Stille Nacht,” “Tis ‘Silent Night’,” says I
And in two tongues one song filled up that sky.

“There’s someone coming towards us!” the front line sentry cried
All sights were fixed on one lone figure coming from their side
His truce flag, like a Christmas star, shone on that plain so bright
As he bravely strode unarmed into the night.

Soon one by one on either side walked into No Man’s land
With neither gun nor bayonet we met there hand to hand
We shared some secret brandy and we wished each other well
And in a flare-lit soccer game we gave ‘em hell.

We traded chocolates, cigarettes, and photographs from home
These sons and fathers far away from families of their own
Young Sanders played his squeeze box and they had a violin
This curious and unlikely band of men.

Soon daylight stole upon us and France was France once more
With sad farewells we each began to settle back to war
But the question haunted every heart that lived that wondrous night
“Whose family have I fixed within my sights?”

‘Twas Christmas in the trenches, where the frost so bitter hung
The frozen fields of France were warmed as songs of peace were sung
For the walls they’d kept between us to exact the work of war
Had been crumbled and were gone for evermore.

My name is Francis Tolliver, in Liverpool I dwell
Each Christmas come since World War I I’ve learned its lessons well
That the ones who call the shots won’t be among the dead and lame
And on each end of the rifle we’re the same.

* * *

Friday, December 14th, 2007