Thursday, April 29, 2004
My handpainted wheelchair ramp sign
Today while the kids at school were painting pictures of spring and working with clay, I made a sign for my new minivan.
One of the problems that handicap-accessible van owners commonly experience is people parking too close to the side door so their ramps can't unfold. Say you've parked in a van-accessible parking place--you know, the ones with diagonal blue lines that are supposed to keep enough space free for your ramp or lift to operate--and you've gone off to shop, have a meal, go to a movie or whatever. But when you come back someone has "parked you in," meaning you can't lower your ramp or lift, meaning you can't get in your vehicle, meaning you can't drive. In cases like that, if you're alone, you might have to ask a stranger to pull your van back far enough so you can get in. Not fun.
So, many individuals who own or use a handicap-accessible van or minivan, post a sign on the side or back window of their vehicle to let other drivers know that they must allow at least 8' of space so the ramp or lift can work. The signs I've seen have been pretty generic. But, of course, being an artist I can't use any old generic sign! So I painted my own.
After painting it--the kids were most appreciative of my efforts--Susan laminated my new sign, and even gave me the perfect thing to attach it to the side window of my minvan: large black velcro circles. I used six, knowing that when I'm going 70 MPH down the highway, that sign had better be well attached. I also appreciate using velcro because I can remove the sign before I go through a car wash. Here is a picture of the finished product, attached and ready to go. Now, if you saw a minivan with that sign on its window, wouldn't you be delighted to allow plenty of room for its ramp to operate? Let's hold the thought ;-)
And more options continue to open up to me because of having this wonderful companion. Not only was I able to use my scooter again at school--which was great because we went down to the gym for an afternoon assembly--but I did something I've NEVER done before! I went to the Lebanese bakery by myself to get my own hummous, baba ganouj, mujadra, tabbouli, veggie grape leaves, garlic spread and spinach pies. Until now, Ed always had to be my designated shopper.
I also stopped at our local car wash and asked the manager--a nice young man named Anthony--if their equipment could handle a handicap-converted van like mine that only sits 7" off the ground (they lower the floor to make it easier to use the ramp). He assured me it would work, and when I mentioned that I'd have to get out of my minivan in a place where I could use the ramp, he smiled and said, "You don't even have to get out of your van if you don't want to." So I went through the wash, scrub, rinse and dry cycles like a kid on an amusement park ride, and when it came time to pay, Anthony took my money inside and brought me back the change. It was a piece of cake! And fun too.
I do LOVE my new friend!
One of the problems that handicap-accessible van owners commonly experience is people parking too close to the side door so their ramps can't unfold. Say you've parked in a van-accessible parking place--you know, the ones with diagonal blue lines that are supposed to keep enough space free for your ramp or lift to operate--and you've gone off to shop, have a meal, go to a movie or whatever. But when you come back someone has "parked you in," meaning you can't lower your ramp or lift, meaning you can't get in your vehicle, meaning you can't drive. In cases like that, if you're alone, you might have to ask a stranger to pull your van back far enough so you can get in. Not fun.
So, many individuals who own or use a handicap-accessible van or minivan, post a sign on the side or back window of their vehicle to let other drivers know that they must allow at least 8' of space so the ramp or lift can work. The signs I've seen have been pretty generic. But, of course, being an artist I can't use any old generic sign! So I painted my own.
After painting it--the kids were most appreciative of my efforts--Susan laminated my new sign, and even gave me the perfect thing to attach it to the side window of my minvan: large black velcro circles. I used six, knowing that when I'm going 70 MPH down the highway, that sign had better be well attached. I also appreciate using velcro because I can remove the sign before I go through a car wash. Here is a picture of the finished product, attached and ready to go. Now, if you saw a minivan with that sign on its window, wouldn't you be delighted to allow plenty of room for its ramp to operate? Let's hold the thought ;-)
And more options continue to open up to me because of having this wonderful companion. Not only was I able to use my scooter again at school--which was great because we went down to the gym for an afternoon assembly--but I did something I've NEVER done before! I went to the Lebanese bakery by myself to get my own hummous, baba ganouj, mujadra, tabbouli, veggie grape leaves, garlic spread and spinach pies. Until now, Ed always had to be my designated shopper.
I also stopped at our local car wash and asked the manager--a nice young man named Anthony--if their equipment could handle a handicap-converted van like mine that only sits 7" off the ground (they lower the floor to make it easier to use the ramp). He assured me it would work, and when I mentioned that I'd have to get out of my minivan in a place where I could use the ramp, he smiled and said, "You don't even have to get out of your van if you don't want to." So I went through the wash, scrub, rinse and dry cycles like a kid on an amusement park ride, and when it came time to pay, Anthony took my money inside and brought me back the change. It was a piece of cake! And fun too.
I do LOVE my new friend!
Wednesday, April 28, 2004
Two realities
Paradox. That's what it is. Here I sat for a week worrying and fretting over my "major" decision whether to buy a used handicap-accessible minivan or a new one, while people in Iraq were worrying and fretting about whether or not they would survive another day of fighting. Now that the U.S. forces are employing fierce air strikes to try to put down the insurgents, no one is safe. In Fallujah, no one has been safe for a long time. Just ask the gravediggers who have buried bodies on top of bodies--many of them women and children--in the city's soccer stadium-turned-mass graveyard.
How could two realities be more different?
Here in Michigan I sit listening to waves slap the shore and watch a bird hover over the water, suddenly dive in, rising with a fish in its beak. Tulips are in full bloom and trees--now white, pink and lime green--line streets in neighborhoods where the loudest sound is trees being trimmed. Yes, sometimes I wake in the wee hours and hear bomber jets from Selfridge Field screech through the night sky on their way to god-knows-where. But except for these occasional pinpricks of reality, all seems idyllic.
But that is an illusion, and a dangerous one. Until war comes to America we will never know what life is like for so many of the world's people. I'm not saying that I want that to happen; I'm simply acknowledging our inability to know from the inside what the decisions our government makes mean to men, women and children in Iraq, Palestine, Afghanistan, Haiti, among many other places. We live in denial and get angry when anyone tries to wake us up.
Think of people's reactions to the disclosure of those photos of rows of flag-draped caskets. How many decried showing such images publicly. As if not seeing them would make the numbers of American soldiers lost in Iraq--115 so far in April; 724 since the war began--more acceptable. Tell that to their families and friends.
How could two realities be more different?
Here in Michigan I sit listening to waves slap the shore and watch a bird hover over the water, suddenly dive in, rising with a fish in its beak. Tulips are in full bloom and trees--now white, pink and lime green--line streets in neighborhoods where the loudest sound is trees being trimmed. Yes, sometimes I wake in the wee hours and hear bomber jets from Selfridge Field screech through the night sky on their way to god-knows-where. But except for these occasional pinpricks of reality, all seems idyllic.
But that is an illusion, and a dangerous one. Until war comes to America we will never know what life is like for so many of the world's people. I'm not saying that I want that to happen; I'm simply acknowledging our inability to know from the inside what the decisions our government makes mean to men, women and children in Iraq, Palestine, Afghanistan, Haiti, among many other places. We live in denial and get angry when anyone tries to wake us up.
Think of people's reactions to the disclosure of those photos of rows of flag-draped caskets. How many decried showing such images publicly. As if not seeing them would make the numbers of American soldiers lost in Iraq--115 so far in April; 724 since the war began--more acceptable. Tell that to their families and friends.
Tuesday, April 27, 2004
It's done!
In our garage is a beautiful silver-blue 2003 Dodge Grand Caravan that's been converted into a Braun Entervan with fold-up ramp, power transfer driver's seat and hand controls. After renting it for six days, I now own it. Well, the transfer of title hasn't happened yet, but I have a bill of sale and its former owner has my cashier's check.
Whew! I sure am glad the decision-making process is over. To be honest, I loved this minivan from the moment I first scooted up its ramp and parked in its spacious interior. However, as with any decision involving such a large amount of money, I had to explore all my options, consult with experts, have the vehicle carefully checked, and weigh what seemed like a ton of pros and cons. But I finally followed my heart. Happily, my head agreed!
And now all I want to do is rest and think of nothing that uses any gray matter. For two weeks now I've been totally absorbed in this process. I've neglected friends and family, but everyone has been exceptionally understanding. Not only that, my journal and blog readers have had to walk with me every step of the way. I expect you didn't mind going to Pt. Pelee and Belle Isle, although you might have gotten a bit tired of hearing more than you ever wanted to know about minivans! But as my faithful reader Genevieve says, for me it's been a real adVANture!
Whew! I sure am glad the decision-making process is over. To be honest, I loved this minivan from the moment I first scooted up its ramp and parked in its spacious interior. However, as with any decision involving such a large amount of money, I had to explore all my options, consult with experts, have the vehicle carefully checked, and weigh what seemed like a ton of pros and cons. But I finally followed my heart. Happily, my head agreed!
And now all I want to do is rest and think of nothing that uses any gray matter. For two weeks now I've been totally absorbed in this process. I've neglected friends and family, but everyone has been exceptionally understanding. Not only that, my journal and blog readers have had to walk with me every step of the way. I expect you didn't mind going to Pt. Pelee and Belle Isle, although you might have gotten a bit tired of hearing more than you ever wanted to know about minivans! But as my faithful reader Genevieve says, for me it's been a real adVANture!
Monday, April 26, 2004
Rediscovered Pleasures
Every day now I'm doing things I never thought I'd do again. Today it was going to Belle Isle by myself and scooting over to Lighthouse Point. The last time I did this was in 1990.
Belle Isle is Detroit's Central Park. It's an island in the middle of the Detroit River with Ontario on one side and Michigan on the other. The only way to get to the island is by bridge or boat. Ed and I lived in an apartment building across from Belle Isle when we were first married. We kept his 13' Boston Whaler in a marina next to our building and often took it over to the island. Ed had grown up belonging to the Detroit Boat Club on Belle Isle, so we had a membership there for a good number of years. We'd moor our boat at the club, run around the island (6 miles), take a swim in the olympic-sized pool, eat lunch on the porch and go back home by boat. Other times we'd drive over and play tennis on the public courts, ride our bicycles, and I even ran two marathons that finished on Belle Isle. Most readers recognize the name because it's where I often go to see the wild deer.
Well, today I parked over by the fishing dock next to the Coast Guard station, scooted out onto the dock to take pictures of a passing ocean-going freighter and a zoom shot of the Detroit skyline. Then I scooted down to Lighthouse Point, but on the way I had to stop and admire a young family of geese (photo #1 & #2), and farther along, two napping geese beside one of Belle Isle's many lagoons.
But, for me, there was nothing quite like scooting along the walkway toward the lighthouse (photo #1 & #2). In 1989-90 our dog Timmy and I used to come to this Point regularly. Winter, spring, summer, fall...we'd be here every season. In the winter I'd bring my cross-country skis. So today I felt Timmy's joyful spirit at my side as I took in the views we used to share. There was even the extra drama of seeing a laker head into the Detroit River from Lake St. Clair and then pass right by.
But going to Lighthouse Point on Belle Isle wasn't the only rediscovered pleasure of the day. I did something else that most people take for granted, but that had been impossible for me for years and years. I stopped at four different places, got out of my car--actually, the accessible minivan--went inside with no effort and no help from anyone, and then got back in my car and drove to the next place. Amazing!!!
By the end of the day I had decided for sure that this is the accessible minivan I want. So I talked with Ed who said, "Go for it." I then called Hugh, the owner of Wheelchair Getaways from whom I'd rented it, and Ed and I will drive out there tomorrow and I'll give him a check. It feels SO right. I really love this minivan and already feel comfortable driving it. Ed's happy with my decision because I explored every option and found answers to all the questions he had. For me, the final "Yes" came when I visited our friend Bob who has recently been put in a nursing home. Bob has good instincts about things like used cars, so I presented him with all the facts and asked his advice. He was real clear: buy the used minivan that your mechanic approved, saves you money, has an excellent extended warranty, and that you love. It's always nice when someone's objective opinion agrees with what you want to do anyway!
Belle Isle is Detroit's Central Park. It's an island in the middle of the Detroit River with Ontario on one side and Michigan on the other. The only way to get to the island is by bridge or boat. Ed and I lived in an apartment building across from Belle Isle when we were first married. We kept his 13' Boston Whaler in a marina next to our building and often took it over to the island. Ed had grown up belonging to the Detroit Boat Club on Belle Isle, so we had a membership there for a good number of years. We'd moor our boat at the club, run around the island (6 miles), take a swim in the olympic-sized pool, eat lunch on the porch and go back home by boat. Other times we'd drive over and play tennis on the public courts, ride our bicycles, and I even ran two marathons that finished on Belle Isle. Most readers recognize the name because it's where I often go to see the wild deer.
Well, today I parked over by the fishing dock next to the Coast Guard station, scooted out onto the dock to take pictures of a passing ocean-going freighter and a zoom shot of the Detroit skyline. Then I scooted down to Lighthouse Point, but on the way I had to stop and admire a young family of geese (photo #1 & #2), and farther along, two napping geese beside one of Belle Isle's many lagoons.
But, for me, there was nothing quite like scooting along the walkway toward the lighthouse (photo #1 & #2). In 1989-90 our dog Timmy and I used to come to this Point regularly. Winter, spring, summer, fall...we'd be here every season. In the winter I'd bring my cross-country skis. So today I felt Timmy's joyful spirit at my side as I took in the views we used to share. There was even the extra drama of seeing a laker head into the Detroit River from Lake St. Clair and then pass right by.
But going to Lighthouse Point on Belle Isle wasn't the only rediscovered pleasure of the day. I did something else that most people take for granted, but that had been impossible for me for years and years. I stopped at four different places, got out of my car--actually, the accessible minivan--went inside with no effort and no help from anyone, and then got back in my car and drove to the next place. Amazing!!!
By the end of the day I had decided for sure that this is the accessible minivan I want. So I talked with Ed who said, "Go for it." I then called Hugh, the owner of Wheelchair Getaways from whom I'd rented it, and Ed and I will drive out there tomorrow and I'll give him a check. It feels SO right. I really love this minivan and already feel comfortable driving it. Ed's happy with my decision because I explored every option and found answers to all the questions he had. For me, the final "Yes" came when I visited our friend Bob who has recently been put in a nursing home. Bob has good instincts about things like used cars, so I presented him with all the facts and asked his advice. He was real clear: buy the used minivan that your mechanic approved, saves you money, has an excellent extended warranty, and that you love. It's always nice when someone's objective opinion agrees with what you want to do anyway!
A Million +: Massive Turnout for March for Women's Lives
"Tens of thousands," I wrote in relation to the numbers of women at yesterday's march and rally for Women's Reproductive Rights in Washington, DC. HA! My guesstimate wasn't even close! March organizers say there were OVER A MILLION in attendance!!! It was wall-to-wall demonstrators--women and men--covering every inch of the Mall from the U.S. Capitol to the Washington Monument. In an article published by Reuters--"Massive Protest Decries Bush Abortion Policies"--the author reports that this may have been the largest demonstration EVER in U.S. history!!! So much for citizen apathy!!!
Sunday, April 25, 2004
"Seeing" where you are meant to be
I sit here at my computer as tens of thousands of women march through the streets of Washington, DC demanding their rights to retain control over their individual reproductive choices. George W. Bush and his Christian fundmentalist appointees have already made strides in their assault on women's rights, but if he is reelected we believe our rights will be totally demolished. Today's rally and march, the first such in 12 years, is an important opportunity for women who feel the government has no right to dictate their private reproductive choices, to stand with their sisters and say, "No government interference! We will fight for the rights we worked so hard to gain."
When I first heard a year ago about this march and rally, I assumed I'd be there singing with the Raging Grannies. Well, the Raging Grannies are there--five from our gaggle alone--so why am I not with them? That is hard to put into words.
As the time approached, I kept trying to see myself there, but I couldn't. And I've learned over the years, that if I can't see myself someplace ahead of time, that tells me I'm not meant to be there. And vice versa. Even if I come up with every reason in the world not to go to a gathering, march or event, but I keep seeing myself there in my mind's eye, then I must respect that "seeing" and go. I have never been led astray when I've used this tool of discernment. Of course, it took me at least five decades to discover and hone these "seeing" powers so they could be trusted.
But even if I'm not there in body, I am definitely with my sisters (and brothers) on the streets of Washington, DC in my heart and mind.
So when I received yesterday's unexpected gift, I knew why I had stayed home. A Carolyn McDade song comes to mind. "There Is a Time" has verses that show how each time has its own special needs. One verse says, "There is a time that we must come together," while another says, "There is a time that we must leave." This weekend was obviously my time to be by myself in the woods. And even though my sister Grannies and other activists might not see that as a good enough reason to miss today's march, I do.
Because only I know what happened out there as I sat in my scooter on a hidden path beside a moss-covered fallen tree, amid sounds and sights of countless species of birds, smelling the unique blend of musky decay and spring's newness, under tall unleafed trees, with my feet planted on lush green earth: I found my Self, the self I'd been missing for longer than I knew, the self that is One with nature. I reclaimed my rights by going to the woods by myself. It was where I was meant to be.
So today I sit and savor the gift of yesterday. I go through and put up the photographs I took, knowing that these images--no matter how beautiful--are mere reminders of what actually happened. And I know that whatever amount of time, energy and money it takes for me to get my own handicap-accessible minivan is well worth it, because it was having the use of such a van that gave me back my SELF. And I'd say that is priceless.
Click here to see my "Alone In The Woods" online photo album.
When I first heard a year ago about this march and rally, I assumed I'd be there singing with the Raging Grannies. Well, the Raging Grannies are there--five from our gaggle alone--so why am I not with them? That is hard to put into words.
As the time approached, I kept trying to see myself there, but I couldn't. And I've learned over the years, that if I can't see myself someplace ahead of time, that tells me I'm not meant to be there. And vice versa. Even if I come up with every reason in the world not to go to a gathering, march or event, but I keep seeing myself there in my mind's eye, then I must respect that "seeing" and go. I have never been led astray when I've used this tool of discernment. Of course, it took me at least five decades to discover and hone these "seeing" powers so they could be trusted.
But even if I'm not there in body, I am definitely with my sisters (and brothers) on the streets of Washington, DC in my heart and mind.
So when I received yesterday's unexpected gift, I knew why I had stayed home. A Carolyn McDade song comes to mind. "There Is a Time" has verses that show how each time has its own special needs. One verse says, "There is a time that we must come together," while another says, "There is a time that we must leave." This weekend was obviously my time to be by myself in the woods. And even though my sister Grannies and other activists might not see that as a good enough reason to miss today's march, I do.
Because only I know what happened out there as I sat in my scooter on a hidden path beside a moss-covered fallen tree, amid sounds and sights of countless species of birds, smelling the unique blend of musky decay and spring's newness, under tall unleafed trees, with my feet planted on lush green earth: I found my Self, the self I'd been missing for longer than I knew, the self that is One with nature. I reclaimed my rights by going to the woods by myself. It was where I was meant to be.
So today I sit and savor the gift of yesterday. I go through and put up the photographs I took, knowing that these images--no matter how beautiful--are mere reminders of what actually happened. And I know that whatever amount of time, energy and money it takes for me to get my own handicap-accessible minivan is well worth it, because it was having the use of such a van that gave me back my SELF. And I'd say that is priceless.
Click here to see my "Alone In The Woods" online photo album.
No Comment!
Friends, the "comments" section of this blog has been acting unpredictable of late, so if you arrive here and find no comments posted below the entries, simply click the "contact me" under my picture to email me directly.
Saturday, April 24, 2004
Could I be any happier?
I hiked three hours in the woods by myself today! Sound impossible? Not with Ona my trusty scooter, a handicap-accessible minivan, and the well-maintained trails at Pt. Pelee National Park in Leamington, Ontario, it isn't!
This was the first time in ten years that I'd been free to hike by myself in the woods. And to sit in silence, with birdsong, leaves rustling, and occasional hikers' voices being the only sounds I heard...except when I sang softly to myself. For an individual who began taking solitary walks in the woods sixty years ago at age 2--I'd escape from our back yard and toddle over to the stream under the big tree where peeper frogs, turtles and caterpillars kept me company--this was the greatest gift imaginable. The following question kept running through my head: "Could I be any happier?" The answer was, "No!"
Tomorrow I'll share the photos I took and tell you more about this glorious day, but now I must get some sleep. It's almost 10 PM and I only returned home a half hour ago after having left the house this morning at 10 AM.
I can't stop smiling.
This was the first time in ten years that I'd been free to hike by myself in the woods. And to sit in silence, with birdsong, leaves rustling, and occasional hikers' voices being the only sounds I heard...except when I sang softly to myself. For an individual who began taking solitary walks in the woods sixty years ago at age 2--I'd escape from our back yard and toddle over to the stream under the big tree where peeper frogs, turtles and caterpillars kept me company--this was the greatest gift imaginable. The following question kept running through my head: "Could I be any happier?" The answer was, "No!"
Tomorrow I'll share the photos I took and tell you more about this glorious day, but now I must get some sleep. It's almost 10 PM and I only returned home a half hour ago after having left the house this morning at 10 AM.
I can't stop smiling.
Friday, April 23, 2004
Earth Day in Michigan
I'm quickly running out of steam, so this will be a shorter-than-usual entry. It's only 10 PM, but after a long drive (90 miles round trip) to have the rental van's Braun conversion--including the rattling ramp--checked over, and a brain-wearying meeting with the salesman that involved LOTS of $$ talk in addition to looking at two possible candidates (both brand new 2004 models), lunch at my favorite Lebanese restaurant (made possible because of the rental minivan), arriving home and setting out for a lovely scoot down to the gym, and then a good hard workout...I am ready for bed! But first let me give you a taste of Earth Day in Michigan:
Flowering trees
Azaleas in bloom
A lovely yard
Pansies and tulips
A newly-green tree
Daffodils
Weeping willows beside the lake
Flowering trees
Azaleas in bloom
A lovely yard
Pansies and tulips
A newly-green tree
Daffodils
Weeping willows beside the lake
Maryland attorney To Meet With Sept. 11 Commission
The subject of the followng email that I received today from Rabih Haddad's brother, Bassem, was "Vindication may soon follow." May it be so!
http://www.wtopnews.com/index.php?nid=25&sid=188619
"Maryland Attorney To Meet With Sept. 11 Commission"
FREDERICK, Md. (AP) - A Maryland attorney is scheduled to meet this week with the commission investigating the September 11 terror attacks to discuss the government's approach to stopping terrorist financing.
Roger Simmons, of Gordon and Simmons, represented the second-largest Muslim charity in the nation in the wake of the attacks.
An executive order issued by President Bush three months after the Sept. 11 attacks accused Global Relief Foundation of diverting contributions to help bankroll terrorism - a charge the group denies. Since then, officials have frozen the group's bank accounts, revoked its tax-exempt status and deported a co-founder.
"I am the first one to say that, if anyone had anything to do with financing terrorism, then shut them down," Simmons told The Frederick Post. "But first give them due process."
Counsel for the National Commission on Terrorist Attacks invited Simmons to meet with members.
Simmons specializes in First Amendment cases, including Patriot Act litigation. Under the provisions of the Patriot Act, GRF, based in Chicago, was denied due process, Simmons said.
Simmons said he believes his investigation indicates the GRF was legitimate. No criminal charges were brought against any GRF employee, but one of its founders was deported to Lebanon after spending 19 months in jail for an expired visa.
"I decided after talking to everyone in the organization and looking at all the documentation that if you could come up with a charity that was clean, this one was the cleanest you could imagine," Simmons said.
Simmons said tens of thousands of hours were wasted by the FBI in attempting to find evidence of wrongdoing on the part of GRF and its executive director, Mohammad Chehade.
GRF was giving food, blankets, tents and money to vicitms of violence, primarily in the Middle East.
The relief workers at GRF themselves, Simmons said, were "tarred and branded and labeled bad because they worked for a Muslim charity."
http://www.wtopnews.com/index.php?nid=25&sid=188619
"Maryland Attorney To Meet With Sept. 11 Commission"
FREDERICK, Md. (AP) - A Maryland attorney is scheduled to meet this week with the commission investigating the September 11 terror attacks to discuss the government's approach to stopping terrorist financing.
Roger Simmons, of Gordon and Simmons, represented the second-largest Muslim charity in the nation in the wake of the attacks.
An executive order issued by President Bush three months after the Sept. 11 attacks accused Global Relief Foundation of diverting contributions to help bankroll terrorism - a charge the group denies. Since then, officials have frozen the group's bank accounts, revoked its tax-exempt status and deported a co-founder.
"I am the first one to say that, if anyone had anything to do with financing terrorism, then shut them down," Simmons told The Frederick Post. "But first give them due process."
Counsel for the National Commission on Terrorist Attacks invited Simmons to meet with members.
Simmons specializes in First Amendment cases, including Patriot Act litigation. Under the provisions of the Patriot Act, GRF, based in Chicago, was denied due process, Simmons said.
Simmons said he believes his investigation indicates the GRF was legitimate. No criminal charges were brought against any GRF employee, but one of its founders was deported to Lebanon after spending 19 months in jail for an expired visa.
"I decided after talking to everyone in the organization and looking at all the documentation that if you could come up with a charity that was clean, this one was the cleanest you could imagine," Simmons said.
Simmons said tens of thousands of hours were wasted by the FBI in attempting to find evidence of wrongdoing on the part of GRF and its executive director, Mohammad Chehade.
GRF was giving food, blankets, tents and money to vicitms of violence, primarily in the Middle East.
The relief workers at GRF themselves, Simmons said, were "tarred and branded and labeled bad because they worked for a Muslim charity."
Thursday, April 22, 2004
Minivans, Scooters, Children...and Truth
Night and day. That's what it feels like for me to be pushed in my mother's wheelchair at school as opposed to propelling myself in my scooter. And the kids responded differently too. Instead of the usual lugubrious questions about, "Why can't you walk, Ms. Patricia?", today I heard, "Wow! That scooter is SO cool!! I wish I had one!" You should have seen the faces on the three fifth-grade boys who came down to help straighten out my ramp (it couldn't slide out properly on the grass beside the curb). After I'd scooted out the van onto the sidewalk, and then pushed the remote control to lift the ramp and close the side door on the minivan, those boys' mouths literally dropped open. "I WANT ONE!!!" came out of three mouths at once.
Now I have to say, Susan and the kids have been wonderful about getting my Mom's wheelchair in and out of my car, pushing me to and from the classroom to my car, and even to and from the bathroom when I needed it, but there's NOTHING like independence! I know I sit up straighter and, according to friends, even look differently when using my scooter. The main thing is I feel different. More self-possessed, stronger and happier.
Driving this accessible minivan is already changing my life...and I've only had it two days. I find myself thinking about all the options it gives me to go places and do things. It feels like the world has been opened up to me again. I suspect having such a minivan of my own will be as life-changing as it was to get La Lucha, my first scooter, back in May of 2000.
On the way home from school, I stopped at my local garage and asked the mechanic to do a diagnostic on the minivan. Wally has been servicing my cars for at least 20 years and I trust him totally. Actually, he's given me diagnostics on two other used cars during that time--both of which I ended up buying--and his advice has always been sound. Even though he and his assistant admitted that 25,000 miles is a LOT of mileage for one year, he said the car has been well maintained and everything looks good. He found an oozing power steering cable that would only be $20 to replace, but it obviously wasn't a problem because the power steering fluid was still full. He also said the vehicle had been undercoated after they'd done the conversion, and they'd done a VERY thorough job. These were the best results of any of Wally's previous diagnostics; he had always found a list of minor things wrong on the other cars I'd brought to him. That means a lot.
So far, the only negatives I've seen or heard are: 1) the loud rattling sound of the folded ramp whenever I pass over bumps in the road; and 2) the tendency of the ramp not to slide out properly on grass or uneven surfaces. I've posted a question about both issues on the wheelchair junkie online bulletin board, so I'll see what other handicap-accessible van users have to say about it. Hugh, the rental guy, mentioned the grass problem when he was instructing me yesterday about the minivan, and I've already seen postings about the rattling noise, so it may be that these quirks come with the territory. Tomorrow I'm also going to talk to the accessible van dealer who sells new vehicles to get his perspective on things.
As of now, I'm leaning towards buying this rental van and Ed is playing devil's advocate and bringing up all the reasons to buy a new one. I'm going to sit with all options until my rental week is up. But, no matter what we buy, we ARE going to be getting a handicap-accessible minivan. That's for sure.
***********************************
Totally off the subject, but extremely important is this article, "Documents Linking Al-Qaeda, Charity Not Found," in USA Today that finally refutes the media accusations that the Global Relief Foundation--the humanitarian aid organization co-founded by Rabih Haddad--was linked to terrorists. Apparently the journalist who broke the story back in January 2002--Jack Kelley--has been totally discredited and charged with plagarism, among other things. Ed told me the editor of USA Today has resigned because of the scandal.
Rabih and Sulaima always said the truth would come out. I just wish they hadn't had to suffer so much before it FINALLY did.
Now I have to say, Susan and the kids have been wonderful about getting my Mom's wheelchair in and out of my car, pushing me to and from the classroom to my car, and even to and from the bathroom when I needed it, but there's NOTHING like independence! I know I sit up straighter and, according to friends, even look differently when using my scooter. The main thing is I feel different. More self-possessed, stronger and happier.
Driving this accessible minivan is already changing my life...and I've only had it two days. I find myself thinking about all the options it gives me to go places and do things. It feels like the world has been opened up to me again. I suspect having such a minivan of my own will be as life-changing as it was to get La Lucha, my first scooter, back in May of 2000.
On the way home from school, I stopped at my local garage and asked the mechanic to do a diagnostic on the minivan. Wally has been servicing my cars for at least 20 years and I trust him totally. Actually, he's given me diagnostics on two other used cars during that time--both of which I ended up buying--and his advice has always been sound. Even though he and his assistant admitted that 25,000 miles is a LOT of mileage for one year, he said the car has been well maintained and everything looks good. He found an oozing power steering cable that would only be $20 to replace, but it obviously wasn't a problem because the power steering fluid was still full. He also said the vehicle had been undercoated after they'd done the conversion, and they'd done a VERY thorough job. These were the best results of any of Wally's previous diagnostics; he had always found a list of minor things wrong on the other cars I'd brought to him. That means a lot.
So far, the only negatives I've seen or heard are: 1) the loud rattling sound of the folded ramp whenever I pass over bumps in the road; and 2) the tendency of the ramp not to slide out properly on grass or uneven surfaces. I've posted a question about both issues on the wheelchair junkie online bulletin board, so I'll see what other handicap-accessible van users have to say about it. Hugh, the rental guy, mentioned the grass problem when he was instructing me yesterday about the minivan, and I've already seen postings about the rattling noise, so it may be that these quirks come with the territory. Tomorrow I'm also going to talk to the accessible van dealer who sells new vehicles to get his perspective on things.
As of now, I'm leaning towards buying this rental van and Ed is playing devil's advocate and bringing up all the reasons to buy a new one. I'm going to sit with all options until my rental week is up. But, no matter what we buy, we ARE going to be getting a handicap-accessible minivan. That's for sure.
***********************************
Totally off the subject, but extremely important is this article, "Documents Linking Al-Qaeda, Charity Not Found," in USA Today that finally refutes the media accusations that the Global Relief Foundation--the humanitarian aid organization co-founded by Rabih Haddad--was linked to terrorists. Apparently the journalist who broke the story back in January 2002--Jack Kelley--has been totally discredited and charged with plagarism, among other things. Ed told me the editor of USA Today has resigned because of the scandal.
Rabih and Sulaima always said the truth would come out. I just wish they hadn't had to suffer so much before it FINALLY did.
New Wheels (rented for now)
As the kids used to say, "I am REALLY psyched!!!" I picked up my rental handicap-accessible minivan today (Wednesday), gave it a good test drive on the expressway for 50 miles coming home, went through warm weather with the windows open, rain with the front and rear windshield wipers working, tried out the cruise control and CD player, and found the hand-control brakes to be unexpectedly easy to use. This accessible minivan has both hand and foot controls, so you can use either or both. My Neon is unadapted, so I didn't imagine I'd be using hand controls in the van--at least not yet--but on the straight-a-way, the hand brakes are pretty cool.
As you know if you're a regular reader, I'm renting this Dodge Grand Caravan for a week to see how comfortable I am driving a handicap-accessible minivan. I'm in the market to buy one so I can transport my scooter without my friends and family always having to assemble/disassemble it every time I go someplace. It will also give me the option of going places on my own, without having to worry about finding a nice stranger to help me get my scooter in and out of the trunk of my car. Again, if you're a regular reader, you'll know how important it is for me to feel independent. And that's an understatement.
If I like driving this minivan, the next question is: Do I buy used or new? If used, the minivan I'm renting--a 2003 Dodge Grand Caravan with 25,000 miles--is available for me to buy. I've explored all aspects of this option with the owner of the rental company--price, service records, warranties for both the Braun Entervan conversion and for the vehicle itself--and am satisfied with his answers. Now I will try it out in different driving and parking situations, and take it to my trusted mechanic to get a diagnostic on the minivan itself. As I wrote yesterday, I've bought enough used cars to know the questions to ask (I hope) and the steps to take so as to ensure, to the best of my ability, that I'm not getting a lemon.
I asked Hugh, who runs this Wheelchair Getaways franchise out of his home WAY out in the country, to take pictures to show my journal and blog readers. The first three--photos #1, #2 & #3--show me backing up the ramp in my scooter and parking it behind the power transfer driver's seat. The final picture is of me driving the minivan, right before I started off for home. A happy moment came as I pulled into our two-car garage and found there was plenty of room for me to lower the ramp and scoot out of the minivan. That had been a niggling concern.
This evening I drove the minivan to a Peace Talk being given by Dr. Muli Linder, an Israeli medical doctor who is one of the 600 soldiers and officers of the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) who have refused to serve militarily in the West Bank and Gaza Strip in the interest of peace. They call their movement the Courage To Refuse, and in the U.S. they're often known as Refuseniks. Whatever they're called, these are courageous people whose decision not only puts them at risk of prison but often alienates them from family and friends. Dr. Linder shared that he has not yet been imprisoned (over 200 of the Refuseniks have), but it has been personally painful that his father and mother disapprove of his decision. He describes his parents as strong Zionists who both lost close members of their families in the Holocaust.
I found this young man--31 years old, a husband and father of two young children--to be a true man of peace. His talk was reasoned and honest, focusing mainly on his own story and how he came to his decision to sign the Combatant's Letter in the winter of 2002. There was a lengthy question and answer period that could not have been easy for him. But he managed to defuse even the most antagonistic comments and questions. Of course, his being a psychiatrist probably didn't hurt! It is always hopeful to meet persons of conscience.
As you know if you're a regular reader, I'm renting this Dodge Grand Caravan for a week to see how comfortable I am driving a handicap-accessible minivan. I'm in the market to buy one so I can transport my scooter without my friends and family always having to assemble/disassemble it every time I go someplace. It will also give me the option of going places on my own, without having to worry about finding a nice stranger to help me get my scooter in and out of the trunk of my car. Again, if you're a regular reader, you'll know how important it is for me to feel independent. And that's an understatement.
If I like driving this minivan, the next question is: Do I buy used or new? If used, the minivan I'm renting--a 2003 Dodge Grand Caravan with 25,000 miles--is available for me to buy. I've explored all aspects of this option with the owner of the rental company--price, service records, warranties for both the Braun Entervan conversion and for the vehicle itself--and am satisfied with his answers. Now I will try it out in different driving and parking situations, and take it to my trusted mechanic to get a diagnostic on the minivan itself. As I wrote yesterday, I've bought enough used cars to know the questions to ask (I hope) and the steps to take so as to ensure, to the best of my ability, that I'm not getting a lemon.
I asked Hugh, who runs this Wheelchair Getaways franchise out of his home WAY out in the country, to take pictures to show my journal and blog readers. The first three--photos #1, #2 & #3--show me backing up the ramp in my scooter and parking it behind the power transfer driver's seat. The final picture is of me driving the minivan, right before I started off for home. A happy moment came as I pulled into our two-car garage and found there was plenty of room for me to lower the ramp and scoot out of the minivan. That had been a niggling concern.
This evening I drove the minivan to a Peace Talk being given by Dr. Muli Linder, an Israeli medical doctor who is one of the 600 soldiers and officers of the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) who have refused to serve militarily in the West Bank and Gaza Strip in the interest of peace. They call their movement the Courage To Refuse, and in the U.S. they're often known as Refuseniks. Whatever they're called, these are courageous people whose decision not only puts them at risk of prison but often alienates them from family and friends. Dr. Linder shared that he has not yet been imprisoned (over 200 of the Refuseniks have), but it has been personally painful that his father and mother disapprove of his decision. He describes his parents as strong Zionists who both lost close members of their families in the Holocaust.
I found this young man--31 years old, a husband and father of two young children--to be a true man of peace. His talk was reasoned and honest, focusing mainly on his own story and how he came to his decision to sign the Combatant's Letter in the winter of 2002. There was a lengthy question and answer period that could not have been easy for him. But he managed to defuse even the most antagonistic comments and questions. Of course, his being a psychiatrist probably didn't hurt! It is always hopeful to meet persons of conscience.
Tuesday, April 20, 2004
Fallujah through the eyes of an ambulance volunteer/clown
I have just read a blog entry that has me shivering in shared fear and bowing in shared gratitude. If you want to hear a first-hand account of what it's like to be an ambulance volunteer (and a clown) in Fallujah, go to the British human rights activist Jo Wilding's blog and read her April 20 entry. When it cuts off in the middle of a sentence, scroll down and pick it up again in entry #2.
Gawd! The courage of some people!!!
Gawd! The courage of some people!!!
A path to world peace
Today a regular reader emailed me in response to yesterday's journal/blog entry. Among other things, she said,
And it is very hard for me to mourn the death of a man who would have gladly killed me simply because I am a Jew, without knowing anything about who I am and what I think. I just want everybody to stop -- stop hating, stop killing, stop hurting, just stop!
Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could gather all those who are hating, killing and hurting others--or instructing their followers to do so--and tell each one to go to their rooms for a "time out" until they can learn to get along?
I often want to ask today's leaders if they feel they've made good choices. And if not, what would be a better choice? That's what we do with kids when they misbehave at school. If they can't correct their behavior, we send them down to the office. Once there, the vice-principal sits them down and tries to find out what's going on. If their offense was particularly serious, they are sent home for the day, or maybe longer.
If I were vice-principal of the U.S. classroom, this is what I'd say to you-know-who:
OK, George. What's going on? You've been caught lying again and again. Not only that, you've been sending your buddies into the playground to beat up on the most defenseless students in school. And now you've hooked up with that bully Ariel and told everybody you are with him all the way.
Do you think you've been making good choices here? How do you think you could handle things better? Maybe it's time for you to go back home to Crawford and consider what you've been doing. When you're ready to make better choices, let me know. Then we'll see if we can take you back into school. It all depends on you.
How I wish it were that simple.
And it is very hard for me to mourn the death of a man who would have gladly killed me simply because I am a Jew, without knowing anything about who I am and what I think. I just want everybody to stop -- stop hating, stop killing, stop hurting, just stop!
Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could gather all those who are hating, killing and hurting others--or instructing their followers to do so--and tell each one to go to their rooms for a "time out" until they can learn to get along?
I often want to ask today's leaders if they feel they've made good choices. And if not, what would be a better choice? That's what we do with kids when they misbehave at school. If they can't correct their behavior, we send them down to the office. Once there, the vice-principal sits them down and tries to find out what's going on. If their offense was particularly serious, they are sent home for the day, or maybe longer.
If I were vice-principal of the U.S. classroom, this is what I'd say to you-know-who:
OK, George. What's going on? You've been caught lying again and again. Not only that, you've been sending your buddies into the playground to beat up on the most defenseless students in school. And now you've hooked up with that bully Ariel and told everybody you are with him all the way.
Do you think you've been making good choices here? How do you think you could handle things better? Maybe it's time for you to go back home to Crawford and consider what you've been doing. When you're ready to make better choices, let me know. Then we'll see if we can take you back into school. It all depends on you.
How I wish it were that simple.
Close Connections, Wise Ones and Night Owls
Here I am again, starting my journal/blog after midnight. For some reason I've been turning night into day for almost a week now. I haven't gone to bed before 2 AM since last Wednesday; on Saturday it was 4 AM. When I talked to Rabih today, he said he was worried about me the other morning when it was 9 AM his time (2 AM my time), and I hadn't yet put up my journal/blog entry!
Don't worry, faithful readers, I'm just being my truest Night Owl self. But I sleep in, so I'm not short-changing myself in that regard. Actually, I have a herstory of doing this whenever something new is on the horizon. Usually I have no idea what it might be, but I've learned to relax into the process and let things take their course. In retrospect, it always makes sense.
Maybe I'm instinctively putting myself on Middle Eastern time because of the close connections I feel with the people there. I did that during the first Gulf War--even changed my watch to Iraqi time and stayed there until the cease fire. But today when I say "close connections," I mean that I've talked on the phone twice with Sulaima and once with Rabih in Lebanon in the last two days. Like they lived next door...which in today's world, they do. I've also received two emails from Rabih during that time, the second in response to my letter to the editor of the New York Times. In it, he offered his reflections on what is currently happening in the Middle East. He wrote:
I am increasingly perplexed by the simplicity of the issues in comparison with the complexity of the stances that people, institutions, and governments take on them.
For example, the state of Israel was founded based on a 3000 year old promise to return to the land of "milk and honey". They uprooted the natives, scattered them all over the world, demolished their lands and homes, wiped out every kind of hope and aspiration they may have had, amputated every "olive branch holding" hand. All this in the course of a little over 50 years, and now they have denied them the right of return to what is rightfully theirs in the first place. If the Palestinians do not have the right to return to their lands because it is inconceivable, then how was the whole idea of the state of Israel conceived ?
If regime change in Iraq was dictated by that country's "rogue" regime which allegedly did not abide by UN resolutions and possessed weapons of mass destruction, then isn't Israel due for a regime change right about now? No other country has violated more UN resolutions. It is confirmed that Israel possesses weapons of mass destruction developed with American technology. And, above all, it is a regime that engages in state terrorism like other governments collect taxes.
If Afghanistan was invaded for harboring terrorists and offering them material support, then what should be done with an administration that not only sanctions Israel's rogueness but also finances it.
If it is Freedom and Democracy that the US is trying to bring to Iraq, then why is it "imposing" them?
These are just a few of the things that boggle my mind. Don't misunderstand me my dear sister. "Despair" is not in my dictionary. It's just that history is rich in wisdom and lessons that no one seems to be paying attention to. Where is Pharaoh and his armies? Where are the Persian and the Roman Empires? Where is the British Empire? They all transgressed and oppressed and they're all gone!
Rabih Haddad defines the term "wise one," in my view. Even when the news gives him pain--as it certainly does these days--he is able to stand back and see things in an historical context, rather than giving in to pure emotion (which is more my style of late). I am so grateful to have him, Sulaima and their children in my life. When I recall how we first met, I can't believe he is finally free and that we can talk on the phone any time we want. Gratitude is too small a word.
In addition to contacts with my sister and brother in Lebanon, I've had three email exchanges with Raed in Baghdad over the past two days. Raed is an extraordinarily gifted communicator whose blogs have won international awards; I've been a faithful reader of his for over a year. He now has a new blog called "Raed In the Middle" which gives the whole Iraq war and occupation a human dimension. Not only that, his analysis of what is happening and why offers a perspective we in America need to hear. On Saturday night--actually, in the wee hours of Sunday morning--after reading his pained blog entry relating the assassination of the Palestinian Hamas leader Abdel Aziz Rantissi, I wrote Raed a long email. Actually, that was what kept me up until 4 AM that night. Since then we've emailed back and forth several times, and I continue to pinch myself to see if I am dreaming. The thought that I am communicating with someone in Baghdad, especially now, fills me with awe. Isn't this internet a wonder???
Don't worry, faithful readers, I'm just being my truest Night Owl self. But I sleep in, so I'm not short-changing myself in that regard. Actually, I have a herstory of doing this whenever something new is on the horizon. Usually I have no idea what it might be, but I've learned to relax into the process and let things take their course. In retrospect, it always makes sense.
Maybe I'm instinctively putting myself on Middle Eastern time because of the close connections I feel with the people there. I did that during the first Gulf War--even changed my watch to Iraqi time and stayed there until the cease fire. But today when I say "close connections," I mean that I've talked on the phone twice with Sulaima and once with Rabih in Lebanon in the last two days. Like they lived next door...which in today's world, they do. I've also received two emails from Rabih during that time, the second in response to my letter to the editor of the New York Times. In it, he offered his reflections on what is currently happening in the Middle East. He wrote:
I am increasingly perplexed by the simplicity of the issues in comparison with the complexity of the stances that people, institutions, and governments take on them.
For example, the state of Israel was founded based on a 3000 year old promise to return to the land of "milk and honey". They uprooted the natives, scattered them all over the world, demolished their lands and homes, wiped out every kind of hope and aspiration they may have had, amputated every "olive branch holding" hand. All this in the course of a little over 50 years, and now they have denied them the right of return to what is rightfully theirs in the first place. If the Palestinians do not have the right to return to their lands because it is inconceivable, then how was the whole idea of the state of Israel conceived ?
If regime change in Iraq was dictated by that country's "rogue" regime which allegedly did not abide by UN resolutions and possessed weapons of mass destruction, then isn't Israel due for a regime change right about now? No other country has violated more UN resolutions. It is confirmed that Israel possesses weapons of mass destruction developed with American technology. And, above all, it is a regime that engages in state terrorism like other governments collect taxes.
If Afghanistan was invaded for harboring terrorists and offering them material support, then what should be done with an administration that not only sanctions Israel's rogueness but also finances it.
If it is Freedom and Democracy that the US is trying to bring to Iraq, then why is it "imposing" them?
These are just a few of the things that boggle my mind. Don't misunderstand me my dear sister. "Despair" is not in my dictionary. It's just that history is rich in wisdom and lessons that no one seems to be paying attention to. Where is Pharaoh and his armies? Where are the Persian and the Roman Empires? Where is the British Empire? They all transgressed and oppressed and they're all gone!
Rabih Haddad defines the term "wise one," in my view. Even when the news gives him pain--as it certainly does these days--he is able to stand back and see things in an historical context, rather than giving in to pure emotion (which is more my style of late). I am so grateful to have him, Sulaima and their children in my life. When I recall how we first met, I can't believe he is finally free and that we can talk on the phone any time we want. Gratitude is too small a word.
In addition to contacts with my sister and brother in Lebanon, I've had three email exchanges with Raed in Baghdad over the past two days. Raed is an extraordinarily gifted communicator whose blogs have won international awards; I've been a faithful reader of his for over a year. He now has a new blog called "Raed In the Middle" which gives the whole Iraq war and occupation a human dimension. Not only that, his analysis of what is happening and why offers a perspective we in America need to hear. On Saturday night--actually, in the wee hours of Sunday morning--after reading his pained blog entry relating the assassination of the Palestinian Hamas leader Abdel Aziz Rantissi, I wrote Raed a long email. Actually, that was what kept me up until 4 AM that night. Since then we've emailed back and forth several times, and I continue to pinch myself to see if I am dreaming. The thought that I am communicating with someone in Baghdad, especially now, fills me with awe. Isn't this internet a wonder???