Cont'd from Arresting Scenario | Part I
“Okay, I’m leaving,” I said. “Let go of me. Oww! You’re hurting me.”
A tall unnecessarily nasty man squeezed my arms and lifted me off the ground!
“Let me go. I’ll leave. I didn’t do anything. I’m a grandmother…”
I said a whole string of things like that. And then I started to cry (I’m a trained actor!)
To no avail.
The six of us were driven to the same police station we had visited (!) the night before. But this time things were different. The police didn’t speak to us in the patrol car. They were decidedly unfriendly when we reached the station. Unlike our first visit the previous night, we were not allowed to sing (it would disturb the prisoners downstairs we were told by the larger of the two female officers). We were not offered ice water and we were not invited to sit in the little office where our songfest the night before took place. Our passports were collected and one by one we were called into the office to give our parents names and other useless information. Ridgely refused to tell them her father’s name. You go girl, I thought and wished I had not given them the names Everett and Lenore. I did note that they misspelled both names. Soon they returned our passports.
We waited. I snapped a couple of quick photos in defiance of the instructions not to take any photos. As long as I was being held for civil disobedience, I thought I might as well be civilly disobedient! We were asked for our passports a second time. And then a third time. All questions about why were met with non answers. Orders from somewhere else, from some unknown power authority. From whom, I wondered? Hillary? The Ambassador? Netanyahu? Papandreaou? Who knows!
We did have the very interesting opportunity to speak with a handsome and strong-looking member of a terrorist task force.
"Are we terrorists?” I asked. Yes, in some eyes, no doubt, we are. We are members of a small band of U.S. citizens who, in the eyes of our government, were meddling in foreign policy. Maybe so. Maybe it needs some good old-fashioned meddling by a few brave people of conscience!
That’s who we are.
We are a motley assortment of people who care about others—about the disenfranchised, the oppressed, the prisoners of conscience…In this particular case, our mission was (and remains) to free the people of Gaza. They have been living under the control of mighty Israel for far too long. I believe this group is aligned with many missions that fight for peace and justice for the oppressed---wherever they are.
Eventually we were released. We went back to our boat…we went to the Internet…we went to Syntagma Square to stand with the remarkable organizers of the Greek People’s Movement. They will (THEY WILL) overcome the oppressive government that has taken their money and put it in the pockets of the very rich. There will be a revolution…This time it will be televised. I believe…I have to believe that they and we will surely OVERCOME!
Deep in my heart, I know that our leaders are totally aware of the injustices under which they have been operating for far too long. They must know. The fact that power and greed and evil trump fairness and justice is the very reason I can no longer simply read the papers and say, “Tsk, tsk! Somebody should do something.”
I’m somebody. So are you! We must stand and march and speak out and write and DO SOMETHING!
Because if we don’t...