Thursday, July 02, 2009

Di Wood Revisits Winter Soldier II - 05/07/2009

First Unitarian Society of Minneapolis
900 Mount Curve Avenue; Minneapolis, MN 55403; Phone 612.377.6608; Fax 612.377.2151

Summer Assembly Previews

7/5/09 “Remembering Winter Soldier 2: A First-
Hand Report”

Speaker: Diane Ford Wood
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Diane Ford Wood, granddaughter-in-law of Abe and Ida Kaufman, guarded “the box” at Winter Soldier 2 in March 2008 and heard every word of testimony from just a few feet away.
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Diane’s volunteer job involved securing the area directly in front of the dais where American veterans of the Iraq and Afghanistan war bravely told their tales to an international media audience. Pro-war protestors, angered that veterans would “air America’s dirty laundry in public,” worked hard to invade and disrupt the proceedings, creating a tense, even dangerous atmosphere.
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While Amy Goodman of Democracy Now and www.VetSpeak.org both did a thorough job, of reporting these events, most American media did not attend. Backed by a few veteran friends who were also there, Diane will tell what it was like from her perspective and what she believes to be the legacy and lessons of the event.

www.VetSpeak.org

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Sunday, June 21, 2009

VVAW: A Living History...

Ed Note: This piece by our Agent Orange Editor, Rena Kopy, is a prototype for a serial feature, to be carried on the pages of the soon to be awakened on VetSpeak.org on-line mag. This type of piece dovetails nicely with VetSpeak’s mission of recording and preserving VVAW’s history. We choose to present that perspective from those who lived it, not that of observers and researchers. It is always compelling, but quite often, humorous, as well. Much of VVAWs real story hasn’t been available to folks. The real history of those who really made it happen hasn’t been fully tapped, as of yet; that being the personal and unprecedented history of Veterans organized in struggle with the government over the policies of illegal warfare, and the imperializing of the US Presidency, and foreign policy. Rena and VetSpeak.org, hope to change all that, and put an “I was there” face on that history.WH
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THE LIGHTER SIDE OF ACTIVISM
By

Rena Kopy, Editor
Mirth & Frivolty
(As well as Agent Orange)
www.VetSpeak.org
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My recent rededication to Vietnam Veteran Agent Orange activism has brought about a most unusual phenomenon. In the middle of doing either research, writing or studying, I find myself stopping to gaze into the déjà vu of my memory bank. I do not come up with great moments of what others have credited me with, such as changing laws or the perception or should I say misconceptions of what was at one time the most horrendous image of American heroes. What keeps stopping me to recollect is some of the strangest and even hilarious moments that were accumulated over the years.

In recent dialogues with my fellow activists, like Ward Reilly, Willie Hager and Chuck Palazzo, I have recounted stories of days gone by and experiences that, I guess, were all part of the penning of the “How to Be an Activist for Dummies” handbook. It was decided that I will relate some of those long ago (but obviously not forgotten) excursions to the choppy waters of activism, in the hope that others who read these memories will (since it is probably only activist read anyway) come up with stories of their own to add to this new endeavor.
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The memory that started this idea for an interactive column was one that involved one of the very first demonstrations of the original organization that John and I started: A.O.V.N.J. - Agent Orange Victims of New Jersey.

It was a Saturday afternoon in the spring of 1980 that a group of about 35 or 40 of us met outside the main gate of the East Orange VA Hospital in East Orange, New Jersey. We had to do this on weekends, because contrary to the public image of Viet vets, at the time, almost everyone had a paying job they could not take time away from. We were all dressed in our “Sprayed and Betrayed” tee shirts and ready to keep moving, as the law required, across the front of the hospital entrance. We formed an orderly line and began to walk and chant “test and compensate” or “agent orange kills”, etc., back and forth across the street that led into the front gates. After a few minutes, we realized that something was missing and that with all of our planning and organizing no one had been put in charge of the signs, banners and placards!!!!!!!

Since we were a suburban group of vets and vet families from, far away, Monmouth and Ocean counties, no one had any idea where we could get the much needed signs, etc. So, for approximately an hour we marched, back and forth, from one side of the street to the other, yelling out our chants and cadence at the top of our lungs. The only problem was that to the public, we looked like a whole bunch of people who were walking back and forth, trying to decide what side of the street we wanted to be on and YELLING AT EACH OTHER!!!!!

One of the VA security guards, turned out to be a Vietnam vet, a brother, who during his break, got in his car and drove past us, showing us his hand in a “wait” gesture, which we did not understand because we were still trying to look “official”. He came back, slowed down right in the midst of our picket line and quickly handed, out of the driver’s side window, a stack of oak tag and construction paper and a whole bunch of markers. He then drove quickly away so as not to lose his job for collaborating with the enemy. For years, we told the story of the “activist virgins” who lost their cherries on the cement streets of East Orange.

In the mid 80’s, we had organized a demonstration outside the Diamond Shamrock plant in the Ironbound section of Newark, New Jersey. It was a families demonstration and we not only brought our children, decked out in our tees and kids cammies, because, keeping in mind that most of our Jersey membership were suburbanites, we even had a “cabbage patch contingency” of cabbage patch dolls with pitch signs taped to their little hands. The media was waiting for us (as were the “unmarked” FBI agents) but after only about 30 minutes into our demonstration, the media became thinner and the ever-present helicopters left as well. We went on with our demonstration because we figured either that the media got what they needed or they were watching from beyond our sights.

It was a cold day, so my husband John and Buzz Pucillo kept running over to the “well hidden” FBI car with cups of hot coffee. When we got home, the phones started ringing because as all of us flipped on the television news it became evident that the reason the media had left was because the landmark Freehold Racetrack had burned to the ground. Every vets group who knew us flagged their newsletters with a story about how the government was so worried about the mark we were making that they burned down the only trotter’s racetrack in New Jersey to keep us off the radar!

The greatest feat that A.O.V.N.J. ever pulled off was at a St. Patrick’s Day Parade in one of the coastal towns, which, if memory serves me, was Belmar, New Jersey. Our group, in a show of patriotism by the town council was invited to participate in their local parade. We showed up with a long flatbed trailer float, which was decorated with flowerpots on prettily covered podiums, with happy children, vets and their wives all smiling and waving from the moving float. (One minor problem was that someone who probably much later in their career came up with the recent idea of flying Air Force One low over Manhattan, without warning the still shell-shocked residents of lower Manhattan, was that the float behind us was an engine which was manned with what sounded like rifle shots going off, until we explained to them that one more volley of “gun salutes” and we couldn’t promise any flashback safety.)

Everyone was cheering and waving from the spectators’ area, until, we were coming close to the reviewing stand, and, suddenly our float came to a complete stop and a full tarp was drawn over the entire float. Within 2 to 3 minutes, which was a feat of theatrical timing in itself, the tarp came away and the pretty plants were now dead twigs sitting on top of 55 gal. Drums with orange stripes, the women were screaming in horror as they held children lying across their arms in a dead pose, while the vets were wearing Scott paks and gas masks and shooting an orange liquid (food coloring) out of spray bottles at the crowd. That was what went slowly past the mayor and all the other dignitaries sitting, in shock, on the reviewing stand, as spectators ran to get away from the orange spray!!!!! Needless to say, we made the front page of every newspaper in the tri-state area and no one ever asked us to do a float parade again. We certainly taught those people what happens when you burn down a racetrack to deprive us from getting our word out!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

These are just a few of my more colorful memories and we have not even started on Dewey Canyon 81’, but more for another day. As the newly appointed editor of creativity and frivolity, here at VetSpeak.org, I ask for readers submissions that will also provide me with a defense against mental illness and weird stunts when I go before the big activist judge in the sky. Who knows, maybe we can come up with a book to be read aloud in Congress before any votes are cast to commit to an opportunistic war.
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Sunday, June 14, 2009

PTSD: We can all be part of the solution...

Cynthia Orange is Writing a book for the loved ones of people with PTSD

Ed note: Micheal Orange is a member of the VetSpeak.org Blog Squad, and pens on our pages as Agent Orange, as does his wife Cynthia, nome de plume, VetWrite. Micheal is also the author of Fire in the hole: A Mortarman in Vietnam, a narrative of his own time spent in-country. Micheal sent this e-mail out to myself, and two other friends, asking for us to distribute it as widely as possible, so, here it is; to read, and to, hopefully, act on...WH

Dear Bob, Willie, and Woody:

My wife, Cynthia, is writing a book for the loved ones of people with PTSD that will be released in the spring of 2010, and she would love input. We're hoping that you can distribute this letter to your respective contact lists. Also, please forward this to others like yourselves who have links to other veterans organizations.

The book will weave throughout it anecdotes and examples gathered from trauma survivors and those affected by a loved one’s trauma to illustrate how some families deal with the challenges inherent in this disorder. The focus will be on self-care, and it will also contain advice from mental health professionals and other experts in the field of PTSD.

She's written extensively about PTSD and co-occurring disorders, prevention and recovery (I gave her plenty first-hand learning opportunities over our 36-year marriage). She has developed three questionnaires 1) for trauma survivors, 2) for the loved ones of those who suffer (or suffered) from PTSD, and 3) for experts who work with trauma survivors and/or those who are affected by a loved one's trauma or PTSD.

Those interested in completing or forwarding a questionnaire should respond to Cynthia at: cynthiaorange@mac.com.

Thank you.

Peace,

Michael Orange, VFP member since 1991

www.VetSpeak.org

Tuesday, June 02, 2009

Planning for the Future

By Horace Coleman

The Hugh Thompson Memorial chapter of Veterans for Peace (VFP chapter 91, San Diego) held a southern California regional conference in Oceanside, CA (home of Camp Pendleton) May 29-31. The conference began with a Friday evening barbecue hosted by military mom Dawn O’Brien. Annie and the Vets, long term fund raisers for peace and veterans’ causes, played after dinner.

San Diego chapter president David Wiley made opening remarks. Chapter member Jack Doxey introduced conference panels. The first was” Working with the Media,” conducted by Pat Alviso (MFSO, Orange County, CA) and her husband Jeff Merrick (MFSO and VFP Orange County, CA).

Pat and Jeff are effective and experienced activists, experts at organizing, publicizing and getting media coverage for veterans and pro peace events and issues. They brought handouts and a PowerPoint display full of hints and examples—including video clips—that showed how to plan media events and write and structure press releases. They spoke about the use of talking points, how to attract the media’s attention and who in and when to contact the media.

Pat and Jeff know how to attract and get coverage in print, radio and TV outlets. They also use the Internet and e-mail well. Events that they have sponsored, or been part of, have been covered by local, regional and national media outlets.

After a coffee break, Jan Ruhman, who doesn’t need coffee to speed him up, led a panel on “Veteran Detention and Deportation.” On that panel were Heather Boxeth, a San Diego based lawyer specializing in immigration and criminal defense cases, Luis Alvarez (a veteran facing deportation) and his sister, Angelica Madrigal. Alverez was brought into the country as a two-year-old child. His sister, a naturalized citizen, spoke of the strain on the family, especially their aged mother whose health is failing.

Ruhman put the overall issue, and its scope, in perspective. “Use ‘em and lose ‘em!” occurs all too often with veterans who aren’t naturalized citizens. Paper work that would help their claims for citizenship is never delivered or “lost.” Boxeth gave an overview of the complexity in immigration and criminal law that can easily trip up veterans facing deportation--and any attorneys not intricately aware of the law.

The father / son duo of Tim and Ryan Kahlor spoke of the problems a wounded soldier can have getting injuries treated that the Army couldn’t find and a father’s quest to get Ryan the care he needed.

Tim used to carry around a poster about Ryan, a tanker. Below a picture of him in battle gear was the number of times his tank had been hit by IEDs (6). His injuries were listed. Among them were TBI (Traumatic Brain Injury), a detached retina, arm injuries, an ear that kept draining, partial hearing loss and PTSD. No Purple Heart was awarded, though! Seeing a short video in which Ryan appeared and comparing the skinny and unnaturally pale guy in it with “the thousand yard stare to the strapping young man Ryan is once more was shocking. You were glad he had recovered so well, although recovery is not over.

Ryan became, Iiterally, a poster child. As Tim said, Ryan represented *all* the wounded veterans of Iraq and Afghanistan. But, what if they didn’t have a father and mother (or a spouse) as driven as Tim and his wife to insist they got the care they needed?

Ryan recounted how a platoon sergeant had told his squad to downplay any thing that might render them unfit for duty: “We don’t want no pussy stuff. There’s nothing wrong with you that alcohol can’t cure!!” Ironically (fittingly?), that sergeant was dismissed from the Army for alcoholism.

One of the audience members, Lane Anderson, stressed the importance of getting a Medical Discharge under Honorable conditions instead of an Honorable discharge to ease hassles involving treatment and money.

A last minute addition to the conference program were Colin and Karen Archipley. A former Marine Sergeant with 3 tours in Iraq, he and wife Karen run Archi’s Acres.

Started with their own funds, devoted to organic farming and coordinating with Veterans Affairs Compensated Work Therapy, Archi’s Acres teaches veterans organic farming and green house construction.

Located in Valley Center, CA, Archi’s Acres provides a peaceful, low stress environment where vets can decompress, and learn grove management and hydroponic growing, along with product marketing and retailing.

The conference’s closing session on Saturday was facilitated by David Wiley. It was a “Regional Strategy Discussion” covering regional issues and how Southern California VFP chapters could help and support each other. Two ideas that came out of the discussion were supporting IVAW (Iraq Veterans Against the War) supporting and raising awareness about the effects of exposure to depleted uranium.

after dinner, Annie and the Vets played and sang again. Sunday was devoted to hitting the streets of Oceanside to let any Marines encountered know that some people went beyond just saying they “support the troops", to actually doing so.

Saturday, May 30, 2009

AGENT ORANGE: THE GIFT THAT KEEPS ON GIVING

By
Rena Kopy
Agent Orange Committee Chair
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On February 5th, 2009 I received an e-mail from a Vietnam vet named Paul Cox, that sent me hurling back to another place and another time, 25 years ago. Paul belongs to the Campaign for Conscience and Responsibility with regard to Agent Orange and its effects on the people of Vietnam. When I expressed surprise at being contacted, he told me that no matter which groups of Vietnam vets he spoke to, my name kept coming up; which created even more surprise because I was certainly a voice from the past. At the time of the contact I was still reeling from the death of my beloved husband, John, whose death at the hands of the chemical companies and the government use of herbicides, had just taken place on April 6th, 2008.

Paul wanted me to go to Paris, France, to testify before the International Tribunal of Conscience in May of 2009. At first the request was the same as someone asking me to go to the Moon and I politely said that while I would welcome the opportunity, there was no way that on a widow's pension, I could afford such a trip. I thought that the subject was closed until I received another email from the unrelenting Paul Cox, telling me that if I could go, all of my expenses would be paid for. After speaking to my sons, it was decided that I would be "jetting to Paris, in May"!!!!!!! More importantly, what that did for my deep depression over the loss of the person that made my life have meaning, was, that I could lash out against the forces that had taken everything from me.

As I prepared for my trip I began studying about the effects on the people of Vietnam; not the Viet Cong, the enemy, those horrible people, who never wanted us there in the first place, but the children, the grandchildren, the land they lived off of and the water that they drank. It was an eye-opening experience and one that suddenly had me by the scruff of my intellect and with a renewed anger that had governed my actions in the 70's and 80's, to a semi-successful end for the Vietnam vets, but with no success for the millions of vets' kids (like our own son) who were still dealing with their parents' service in Vietnam.
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The biggest difference between our children and the children of Vietnam was, quite honestly, that we lived in the USA and so, as bad as our childrens' health problems were and are, we had medical help and a standard of living that made the problems they were born with somewhat easier to bear, than the children who lived in the mudhuts of Vietnam. Our children could eat food and vegatables that did not grow in dioxin laced soil or eat fish that swam in dioxin poisoned rivers. And so, off I went to Paris, France...

One of my greatest apprehensions was that to the French people, I would represent the "Ugly American" and to the Vietnamese, I would be considered "the enemy". Neither of the scenarios came to pass. The Frenchwoman, Marie Helene, who was to be my hostess, was generous, intellectually challenging and treated me as if we had known each other for years and years. The Vietnamese people, including the infamous Madame Bing, were accepting, caring and actually grateful that I had come so far to champion their cause. I also met, Merle Ratner from the Campaign office in New York and Veterans for Peace. She had worked hand in hand with Dave Cline for quite sometime. The only element that could have been better thought out was the fact that it did not stop raining the entire time I was in Paris; but, even the "mighty activist" cannot stop the rain in France.

The first day that I was in Paris, we went to a dedication on behalf of Ho Chi Minh at one of the most beautiful parks I had ever seen. It was such an exquisite surrounding that I didn't even mind that we were all getting soaking wet standing in the rain. We then went to the VAVA office (Vietnam Association of Victims of Agent Orange) for a meeting in preparation for the Tribunal the following day. It was at that meeting that I met the Vietnamese Ambassador to France and Madame Bing, who was the Vice President of South Vietnam. There was an incredible feeling of cooperation and purpose even though their was an obvious language barrier.

After that meeting I was dropped off at the Hotel where the New York lawyers who had represented the Vietnamese in the lawsuit, which turned out to be another rape committed by Judge Jack Weinstein of the Federal Court. It was at that meeting that I met Frank Cochran, a member of VFP out of Philadelphia and an Agent Orange cancer survivor. One of the attorneys, John Moore, prepared us for what was originally going to be a Q&A type of testimony. After that meeting, Frank and I began what turned out to be a daily adventure of getting lost in the Metro system under Paris.

On May 15th, 2009, the first day of the Tribunal, it became very obvious that everything I had learned about the problems created by Agent Orange in Vietnam, was merely a scintilla of the real story. Over 3 million children and grandchildren, not only of those veterans who served during the war, but, anyone who lived in the spray zones, were effected and the number was growing on a daily basis. Children, who survived birth, were born with missing or deformed limbs, missing eyes, brains and other vital organs and major neurological impairments, just to provide an idea of the extent of the problems. Mothers who were agent orange victims themselves were nursing babies with dioxin contaminated mothers' milk and had no choice but to provide this tainted nutrition because that was all they had to offer.
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There was also two other widows of Vietnam vets who testified about their loss and, quite honestly, the world's loss of two positive activists, three if you count my beloved husband, John. Both of these men had returned to Vietnam to give back to the people, for what they perceived that their government had taken away.

When I was called to give my testimony, it felt very strange that here I was in this foreign land, and that the calling of my name, exacted applause from the attendees. I later realized that, although I had been out of the fight for over 20 years, my friend and mentor, Dave Cline had never left the stage and with every speech that he gave, he honored my husband's fight to survive and the child we had together, by saying "my dear friends, John and Rena Kopystenski" or as Merle had told me, he referred to John and I as "the real deal" when it came to Agent Orange activists. So, it was not me they were applauding, it was Dave Cline and all he had done.

Instead of Q&A testimony, those who were to testify provided their own, mostly written speeches, including me. What I did before all else was to stand a picture of my husband John on the table before me and to introduce everyone in attendance to the subject we were discussing. I actually took a great amount of strength and confidence in having him right next to me. When I was done speaking I was amazed to look up through teary eyes, to see a standing ovation for the words I had spoken, even some of the judges were in tears and I was prompted by the reception, to state "I will not stop, I will not go away." I had remembered later that I had said those exact words during the testimony I gave before the Federal court in 1984.

The following day was filed with medical and scientific testimony as well as that of some of the Agent Orange victims of Vietnam. It was heartbreaking to hear from a father who had all of his sons die at a young age or the Korean vet who had to migrate to Amsterdam for the health care and the illnesses of his children. What become ever more clear was that the United States has taken no interest in what can only be recognized, under the Geneva Convention, as a war crime. Nor have they taken what this host nation seemed to take, moral indignation against such crimes when discussing the actions of another country, but not our own. How much money did the United States spend in reparations for Japan, or are presently wasting in Iraq? Does the fact that the chemicals sprayed, with full knowledge of their contaminated state, not only remains in the soil, water and atmosphere, and how it has accelerated in strength and damage done, not seem like a war crime to the politicians in Washington D.C.?

One of the points that I brought up and that was embraced by all, including the attorneys, was that the only lawsuit that stands a chance of succeeding, is a suit by the children of the Vietnam vets and the children of Vietnam against the chemical companies and the United States for war crimes. Children of our vets are not encumbered by the Ferros doctrine and the sovereign nation status will probably not hold up when dealing with birth defected children.

After the speakers were finished and the tribunal adjourned to await the verdict of the judges, Frank Cochran and I set out to do some sightseeing. I was leaving for home on the following day, early, and so it was decided that we would try to see as much of Paris as we could. I had declined staying any additional time because the concept of walking around Paris without Johnny held absolutely no appeal for me. Moreover, the idea of going to Paris without my husband seemed to make no sense. I had never expected to be made to feel so welcome by the French or the Vietnamese, nor did I expect to feel so comfortable with the French people, who were the most courteous and helpful people I have ever met. In a way, I regretted my decision to leave so soon after the tribunal ended, but I did have a family that had never been without me since the death of their father and grandfather.

Frank and I, in keeping with our new found tradition, immediately got lost. We had to constantly sit at one of those outside cafes to regroup over a 1664 beer (the French brand of lager) and share stories of our fight for the cause and our experiences over the years. It was as if we had known each other for a zillion years and we laughed so much we had to have another beer!!!!! And another one!!!!! We ended up forgoing a whole lot of sights and decided to walk toward where I was staying, which neither of us had a clue of which direction we were going to take. Frank was really in love with the Siene and we walked over it so many times that I think we were going to circles. Paris was lovely and one of the things that we kept doing is stopping our walk to both say, "My Lord, I'm in Paris!!!!!!" Boy, did we portray hard line activists or what?

My trip home seemed to take forever and with a 6 hour layover in Atlanta, I had made plans with Elton and Lynn Manzione to meet at the Atlanta airport, which even though we were both in place, could never get together because of the size of the airport. So, unlike Paris where everyone was so helpful, even with the language differences, I realized that I was back in the United States when I couldn't even get one American to assist me with finding where we had decided to meet and spend the first time in 25 years together. Final proof of the American experience of today's world is that when I finally landed in Las Vegas, the airline couldn't find my luggage.

WELCOME HOME?????????????????
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