Be forewarned?this is a long post
5 pm I arrived directly across from the pavilion and parked facing the establishment...so not to miss anything. I sat quietly, remembering last years event...seemed colder last year...seemed darker. I made a quick phone call to verify the address (would have hated to have been at the wrong place). It was confirmed...I was at the right place.
Members of the catering staff and the orchestra were arriving. Lil children were running around, all dressed up, thier parents talking with each other...nice.
While sitting there I began to question and evaluate why I was there...Moral support...yeah, thats it Moral Support, I was going to see people that I saw last year and perhaps folks I went thru the program with. So yeah, I was excited while I sat there contemplating the course of the evening and enjoying the steady westerly winds. I was comfortable with my role as a Moral Supporter.
As I blankly gazed across the street I saw Mike Sherman walking across the street with a handful of flyers in one hand and a cell phone pressed against his head with the other hand...whew, I wasn't the only one there from our camp. Once he safely crossed the street I blew my horn and waved.
We shook hands and embraced. Mike and I endured Straight together. I hadn't spoken to him in some 27 years.... well except last year at the same venue and a few times bantering back and forth here on fornits.
Seemingly we were about to get a late start, but Mike quickly informed me that "we have already been asked to leave". WHAT? I mean I was only 30 minutes late, how could that have happened so quickly. What could have upset them so much that they had already asked Mike and company to leave.
Enter Samantha (Sammiegirl) Monroe...now, I wont' and can't say that she was the reason the Ala Carte Pavilion asked us to leave...but I can imagine a few eye brows were raised. She certainly got my attention.
While I was shaking Mikes hand and going thru first moment pleasantries here comes a guy with a video camera aimed at Mike and I. Oh great, simply wonderful. It's not that I don?t like cameras, I do. But I am more accustomed to being on the other side of the lens. Then my more paranoid nature took over and I envisioned the film being reviewed by guys in dark suits and a memorandum being passed out with my name, my vital statistics, including military history. But then the calming effect of the botanicals I had inhaled soothed my fleeting thoughts.
Mike and I agreed that we should take a ride thru the surrounding neighborhood. We both wanted to "catch up" on what had gone down in the past quarter century as well as since last we saw each other a year ago. While driving off, a quick look in the rear view window showed a COP car and Sammie in the middle of the road...of course our guy with the camera was within feet of the action. It was a quick debate...stop and turn around or keep going...We agreed it would not be a good idea to drive up on them with a freshly lit hooter hanging from my lips.
Upon our return to the designated parking space, Mike quickly got a group of signs out of his vehicle and looked me in the eye and said, "Lets get out there and start holding up the signs"...But Mike...I didnt come here to actually protest, I am here for Moral Support, I came here because I wanted to support the people. But simple mathematics showed only three (3) would be protesters. As Mike pulled the signs and flyers out of his vehicle, I counted 10+ signs. They would need more than 3 people to help carry them. Mike told me to do as much as I felt comfortable with.
Internal debate quickly ensued..."I am not an activist", "I am not a protester", "I am here for the people". Then other thoughts flooded my attention, "I have always wanted to say publicly how Straight sucked", "I have always wanted people to re-consider the merits of the Tough Love bullshit", "I always wanted people to look at 'treatment' in the long term...that is 25 years after the fact.", "I have always wanted people to know about the atrocities under the guise of ?treatment??
Well, this was my chance to say something. But what about the ?holocaust?, and the comparison of Straight Inc the holocaust, what about calling Straight a Hate Group. I don?t know how to answer those strong statements. I see the irony of Mel Sembler a president of the board of the Holocaust Museum, I thought I could hold my own there, but calling Straight a Hate Group?To be honest, I haven?t fully wrapped my brain around that concept as of yet, at least in it?s entirety.
But I can say, one the with the utmost assurance, having a white sign with red lettering that says, ?Straight Inc. is a Hate Group? is a powerful attention getter.
Perhaps it?s the words ?Hate Group? in it?s self. I think the words have a huge impact in the minds of many. Especially since the time we began recognizing some crimes as ?Hate Motivated?. Then consider our audience last night was largely of Jewish descent, arguably the most persecuted peoples of the planet?historically.
I digress?
Without clear understanding as to what motivated me to do so, I grabbed a hand full of poster board and started pacing up and down the sidewalk. I was furthest away from the entrance, with SammieGirl directly at the entrance. Mike Sherman covered the other side of the entrance. Our friend with the camera was furthest way from his side of the entrance.
What struck me first was how many people looked to read the signs. Virtually everyone slowed down (hopefully attempting not to run us over) and made an effort to read the signs.
I am a pretty quite guy, unless I really know someone. I am most comfortable in the background. I was/am quite content just walking, listening, and observing. So I was shocked when from somewhere deep within came a bellowing rant.
The target of my ?rant? was a group of three vehicles of people parking and making ready for the big shindig. I clearly had their attention. I don?t recall the words I used, but I remember my mind switching from one mode to another. From hostile hollering, to direction (that?s only way I can describe it). I felt that they were listening intently to what ever it was that I was saying. Eventually they made their way towards the entrance, where SammieGirl was waiting, but followed them, continuing my ?rant?, knowing I was in that ?ZONE? (like athletes talk about when they are on the top of their game).
One of the party of that group began to approach me. He was walking directly towards me. I was still focused on his crowd of friends. He came right up to me, w/out ?getting in my face? and asked me to ?stop hollering and talk to me?.
I was stunned, well because he wanted to hear in a civilized manner, what all the hub-bub was about and secondly because I thought I recognized him?perhaps from last year.
I was surprised how I was able to ratchet down my tone and volume so quickly?so not to look like a complete idiot. And the words flowed like water?although I don?t recall what I said. I know Mike and SammieGirl had my back, which was reassuring. They clearly were the strong voices of the night, no doubt! But the whole time I spoke with him, I simply left the idea that I saw him last year and went with it. I do remember him saying ?thank you?I knew it, I never trusted the guy.?
As I write these past few paragraphs about the guy who approached me, even though it was congenial, almost pleasant. I got a flash?George Ross, it looked exactly like George Ross. But what would George Ross have to do with Mel Sembler and the Museum shindig? Why would he be there? Why wouldn?t he be there? Shit. Mike, Sammie? you guys where there. Did he walk right under our noses? Fuck!!!
One Tampa representative of law enforcement was with us from the very beginning. But it was not for long. A second pulled up aside him in the adjacent parking lot. They spoke for a few minutes, and then one pulled out across the street and went to the golf course?s buildings (I thought to take a leak or something). Apparently the management of the golf course had called their tow truck service, to have our vehicles removed.
This was the first message relayed to me by this officer. We quickly parked our cars in a neighboring apartment complex. We were back on the line in no time.
On my return I met with a golfer from a group of golfers across the street from the venue. He also wanted to know what all the hubbub was about. To be honest, I expected him to lash out at me. I mean after all, they were finishing up the 18th hole I guess, and well?.Sammie and Mike made a lot of noise, so I kinda expected the worst. I had seen him and his cronies on their cell phones, just kinda added to my suspicious state anyway. But if he was pissed, he sure did a good job at concealing it. We spoke for maybe 15 minutes. He asked all kinda questions, listened to the answers. He seemed real interested in the concept of warehousing children or I think he said ?farming them out??I really got the idea he knew what I was talking about and saw the question of ?ok, now what?. We both agreed that at times children/adolescents are in need of help?clearly Mel Semblers effort/methods didn?t work (he was impressed that I was actually there 27 years ago and that same program ideation/replications are happening at the state and national levels).
The same officer that informed me of the impending removal of our vehicles soon approached us and waited for the golfer and I to finish our conversation, which was cool?I mean I knew it wasn?t gonna get ugly. He began to explain the difference between protesting, expressing our opinions and disturbing the peace. It was as if I was the ?go to guy? when it came to the communications. Too much pressure, oy! After all, I was holding?well not really holding, a tree was holding?but still?anyway, he explained that his supervisor was in route to ?evaluate the situation? and ?maybe a write up or someone goes to jail?---like I said, Too much Pressure. He further explained the ?fine line? tween protesting and disturbing the peace?I got the point. Dutifully, I went to everyone and explained the situation. We slowly began our walk back to the apartment complex. Ranting all the way.
Was it a success?
In terms of numbers?total of four (4)
I am not convinced that the few numbers mean that questions wont be looming in many peoples minds, that questions wont be asked. A lot of people looked at the signs, I tried to thank everyone for taking the time to look. Groups of people stood on the pavilions decking (whatever?its wrap around porch) watching us and chatting amongst themselves. People approached everyone there (on our side). Everyone had a chance to talk to guests of the event.
Was it a success?
Personally yeah, I think so. It showed me once again and helps reaffirm my faith in mankind?People genuinely wanted to hear what we had to say and were shocked by what we are so often calloused to, as survivors. Sounds sick I know, but I kinda take for granted what happened to me personally, in Straight. I sometimes forget people have no idea what I am talking about and so educating them is required. I didn?t get the response I somehow expected from people. The ones who really wanted to learn were kind, respectful, patient and compassionate people who understood/agreed with our efforts.
Was it successful?
I would do it again next year, no doubt.
Was it successful?
I strongly sense we were heard and seen, which was the objective after all. The 45-minute (or so) procession of quests drove up in high dollar vehicles. Of all the vehicles that arrived two (2) were black stretch models of limousines, one of which left immediately after dropping of their cargo. I assume the one that remained was for Sembler and party. After all, I can?t see him driving up in a ford pinto station wagon.
Whelp houshold, familly and sunday obligations require that I wrap it up. If ya got this far, reading the post. Thank you!
Namaste
[ This Message was edited by: Woof-a-Doof on 2006-02-28 14:57 ]
