>From: "Aryana Ferguson" 
>To: DCHinks@hotmail.com, ren4@mindspring.com, sandhill@swcp.com, WHinksJr@aol.com, sandm@javanet.com, vjPima@aol.com, ZoeJess@aol.com, leah496@home.com, drew22@teleport.com, BDHasson@aol.com, newhouse@efn.org, cferguson1@uswest.net, schultz@nceas.ucsb.edu, Starlight0221@hotmail.com, davek7@earthlink.net, grantoregonrains@hotmail.com, dfly888@hotmail.com, hobbsj@efn.org, kpearl@teleport.com, velok1@hotmail.com, hyland@pond.net, springs@teleport.com, mar_c@efn.org, Maria.mendola@tmcaz.com, clickbeetle@earthlink.net, cfg@mail.teleport.com, phil@ori.org, rmorse@OREGON.UOREGON.EDU, rhodyh@oslc.org, rrrob@raidersfan.net, ronald@guppy.pond.net, landstew@hotmail.com, tom-bev9@juno.com, Mendola1@aol.com, pags@efn.org  
>Subject: Fwd: Barbara Kingsolver's piece in the LA TIMES  
>Date: Sun, 30 Sep 2001 19:52:25  
>  
>  
> Hi all: Some food for the mind and soul. Love, A  
>  
>  
>  
>  
>  
>  
> Published on Sunday, September 23, 2001 in the Los Angeles Times  
>> > >A Pure, High Note of Anguish  
>> > >by Barbara Kingsolver  
>  
>> > >TUCSON -- I want to do something to help right now. But I can't  
>>give  
>> > >blood (my hematocrit always runs too low), and I'm too far way  
>>to  
>> > give  
>> > >anybody shelter or a drink of water. I can only give words. My  
>>verbal  
>> > >hemoglobin never seems to wane, so words are what I'll offer up  
>>in  
>> > >this  
>> > >time that asks of us the best citizenship we've ever mustered.  
>>I  
>> > don't  
>> > >mean to say I have a cure. Answers to the main questions of the  
>> > >day--Where was that fourth plane headed? How did they get  
>>knives  
>> > >through  
>> > >security?--I don't know any of that. I have some answers, but  
>>only to  
>> > >the questions nobody is asking right now but my 5-year old. Why  
>>did  
>> > >all  
>> > >those people die when they didn't do anything wrong? Will it  
>>happen  
>> > to  
>> > >me? Is this the worst thing that's ever happened? Who were  
>>those  
>> > >children cheering that they showed for just a minute, and why  
>>were  
>> > >they  
>> > >glad? Please, will this ever, ever happen to me?  
>> > >There are so many answers, and none: It is desperately painful  
>>to see  
>> > >people die without having done anything to deserve it, and yet  
>>this  
>> > is  
>> > >how lives end nearly always. We get old or we don't, we get  
>>cancer,  
>> > we  
>> > >starve, we are battered, we get on a plane thinking we're going  
>>home  
>> > >but  
>> > >never make it. There are blessings and wonders and horrific bad  
>>luck  
>> > >and  
>> > >no guarantees. We like to pretend life is different from that,  
>>more  
>> > >like  
>> > >a game we can actually win with the right strategy, but it  
>>isn't.  
>> > And,  
>> > >yes, it's the worst thing that's happened, but only this week.  
>>Two  
>> > >years  
>> > >ago, an earthquake in Turkey killed 17,000 people in a day,  
>>babies  
>> > and  
>> > >mothers and businessmen, and not one of them did a thing to  
>>cause it.  
>> > >The November before that, a hurricane hit Honduras and  
>>Nicaragua and  
>> > >killed even more, buried whole villages and erased family lines  
>>and  
>> > >even  
>> > >now, people wake up there empty-handed. Which end of the world  
>>shall  
>> > >we  
>> > >talk about? Sixty years ago, Japanese airplanes bombed Navy  
>>boys who  
>> > >were sleeping on ships in gentle Pacific waters. Three and a  
>>half  
>> > >years  
>> > >later, American planes bombed a plaza in Japan where men and  
>>women  
>> > >were  
>> > >going to work, where schoolchildren were playing, and more  
>>humans  
>> > died  
>> > >at once than anyone thought possible. Seventy thousand in a  
>>minute.  
>> > >Imagine. Then twice that many more, slowly, from the inside.  
>> > >  
>> > >There are no worst days, it seems. Ten years ago, early on a  
>>January  
>> > >morning, bombs rained down from the sky and caused great  
>>buildings in  
>> > >the city of Baghdad to fall down--hotels, hospitals, palaces,  
>> > >buildings  
>> > >with mothers and soldiers inside--and here in the place I want  
>>to  
>> > love  
>> > >best, I had to watch people cheering about it. In Baghdad,  
>>survivors  
>> > >shook their fists at the sky and said the word "evil." When  
>>many  
>> > lives  
>> > >are lost all at once, people gather together and say words like  
>> > >"heinous" and "honor" and "revenge," presuming to make this  
>>awful  
>> > >moment  
>> > >stand apart somehow from the ways people die a little each day  
>>from  
>> > >sickness or hunger. They raise up their compatriots' lives to a  
>> > sacred  
>> > >place--we do this, all of us who are human--thinking our own  
>>citizens  
>> > >to  
>> > >be more worthy of grief and less willingly risked than lives on  
>>other  
>> > >soil. But broken hearts are not mended in this ceremony,  
>>because,  
>> > >really, every life that ends is utterly its own event--and also  
>>in  
>> > >some  
>> > >way it's the same as all others, a light going out that ached  
>>to burn  
>> > >longer. Even if you never had the chance to love the light  
>>that's  
>> > >gone,  
>> > >you miss it. You should. You bear this world and everything  
>>that's  
>> > >wrong  
>> > >with it by holding life still precious, each time, and starting  
>>over.  
>> > >  
>> > >And those children dancing in the street? That is the hardest  
>> > >question.  
>> > >We would rather discuss trails of evidence and whom to stamp  
>>out,  
>> > even  
>> > >the size and shape of the cage we might put ourselves in to  
>>stay  
>> > safe,  
>> > >than to mention the fact that our nation is not universally  
>>beloved;  
>> > >we  
>> > >are also despised. And not just by "The Terrorist," that lone,  
>> > >deranged  
>> > >non-man in a bad photograph whose opinion we can clearly  
>>dismiss, but  
>> > >by  
>> > >ordinary people in many lands. Even by little boys--whole towns  
>>full  
>> > >of  
>> > >them it looked like--jumping for joy in school shoes and pilled  
>> > woolen  
>> > >sweaters.  
>> > >  
>> > >There are a hundred ways to be a good citizen, and one of them  
>>is to  
>> > >look finally at the things we don't want to see. In a week of  
>> > >terrifying  
>> > >events, here is one awful, true thing that hasn't much been  
>> > mentioned:  
>> > >Some people believe our country needed to learn how to hurt in  
>>this  
>> > >new  
>> > >way. This is such a large lesson, so hatefully, wrongfully  
>>taught,  
>> > but  
>> > >many people before us have learned honest truths from wrongful  
>> > deaths.  
>> > >It still may be within our capacity of mercy to say this much  
>>is  
>> > true:  
>> > >We didn't really understand how it felt when citizens were  
>>buried  
>> > >alive  
>> > >in Turkey or Nicaragua or Hiroshima. Or that night in Baghdad.  
>>And we  
>> > >haven't cared enough for the particular brothers and mothers  
>>taken  
>> > >down  
>> > >a limb or a life at a time, for such a span of years that those  
>> > >little,  
>> > >briefly jubilant boys have grown up with twisted hearts. How  
>>could we  
>> > >keep raining down bombs and selling weapons, if we had? How can  
>>our  
>> > >president still use that word "attack" so casually, like a move  
>>in a  
>> > >checker game, now that we have awakened to see that word in our  
>>own  
>> > >newspapers, used like this: Attack on America.  
>> > >  
>> > >Surely, the whole world grieves for us right now. And surely it  
>>also  
>> > >hopes we might have learned, from the taste of our own blood,  
>>that  
>> > >every  
>> > >war is both won and lost, and that loss is a pure, high note of  
>> > >anguish  
>> > >like a mother singing to any empty bed. The mortal citizens of  
>>a  
>> > >planet  
>> > >are praying right now that we will bear in mind, better than  
>>ever  
>> > >before, that no kind of bomb ever built will extinguish hatred.  
>> > >  
>> > >"Will this happen to me?" is the wrong question, I'm sad to  
>>say. It  
>> > >always was.  
>> > >  
>> > >Barbara Kingsolver's most recent novel is "Prodigal Summer."  
>> > >  
>> > >Copyright 2001 Los Angeles Times  
>> > >--  
>> > >  
>> > >  
>> > >???????????????????????????????????????????  
>> > >The Eighth Mountain Press  
>> > >624 SE 29th Avenue  
>> > >Portland, OR 97214  
>> > >503/233-3936  
>> > >503/233-0774 (fax)  
>> > >eighthmt@pacifier.com  
>> > >  
>> > >  
>> > >  
>> > >  
>> > >------ End of Forwarded Message  
>> >  
>> >  
>> > Kerry Case  
>> > Environmental Studies Program  
>> > University of Oregon  
>> > kcase@darkwing.uoregon.edu  
>> >  
>>  
>  

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