Notes From the Road

As I write this from somewhere around 30,000 feet, I am terrified. Each time the engine changes from a steady hum to a whine and each patch of turbulence we hit, I am afraid we will fall out of the sky. My emotions run the gambit from simple anxiety to relative calm to sadness to mind numbing fear. I am bound for Seattle and the Veterans for Peace Convention. At this moment, I am acutely jealous of a good friend who was able to travel by train. I like the train, you meet interesting people, you get to walk around and as a bonus, I was never sent half-way around the world to a war based on lies on a train.

When I was younger, I loved to fly. I always insisted on the window seat and would oohh and ahhh like a small child at the scenery below me. The small cars and tiny trees were mesmerizing, especially during take-off and landing. Now I can barely stand it. The longer the flight the worse it is. Since I travel frequently, this has become a serious problem. Sometimes, I have to take anti-anxiety medication just to get on the plane. I hate taking the medicine almost as much as I hate flying; in fact I often opt to suffer through flights that are less than three hours long, like this one, the first leg to Atlanta, just to claim a small victory over my psychological injury. On longer flights, like this evening’s cross country flight to Seattle, I have to give in to the demons that have been following me since my involvement in the Iraq war and take the medicine. Longer flights take me back to the nearly twenty-four hour flights to and from Iraq. They bring back all of the uncertainty, all of the apprehension and all of the impending doom of going there and at the same time, evoke all of the sorrow, frustration and anger of the way I was betrayed by my government that I felt on the flight home.

Because I know the truth about Iraq and the very dangerous direction the Bush/Cheney Cabal have taken my country, I deal with the demons in order to spread the message of peace that is so vital to reclaiming my country. Usually, I will spend at least an hour of each flight, before taking my drugs, preparing a speech or reading the most recent news reports from Iraq and elsewhere in order to be prepared. I am usually, anxious about the upcoming event, knowing that I will have to answer questions about my experience and try to relate what it is like to come back from war. I do not consider any of the questions particularly hard, I am comfortable with my testimony; I know it’s true. What I worry about is how well I can relate that truth to an audience that does not know the horrors of which I speak. The entire experience is always an emotional roller-coaster. Today, however, I am excited to be traveling to the convention. I don’t know if I will be speaking, performing or merely one of the hundreds in attendance, but I do know that I will not have to work hard to relate to the people I will meet there. I know they understand me. I will see old friends like Elliot Adams and Stan Goff, both combat veterans of the Vietnam War, who have helped me through the many rough spots in the last year. I am even more excited that I will be reunited with many of my brother and sister Iraq Vets. My friend Camillo Mejia who went to jail rather than return to Iraq will be there, as will Garrett Ragenhagen and Joe Hill whom I met at last year’s convention. I know that I will meet new members and develop new relationships with veterans from all eras. But the best part of it all is that all of these people and I understand each other. Together we will learn about important topics to continue our work such as nonviolence, coping with PTSD, community organizing and so much more.

I am even more elated that on Saturday, my brothers from Iraq Veterans Against the War will gather to elect an official governing body and move into the next phase of our organizational development. After the convention on Sunday, I will join my brothers and sisters at the Canadian Border to rally with War Resisters who have fled to Canada rather than participate in the immoral and illegal occupation. I have wanted to meet the war resisters for a long time and am proud to stand in solidarity with them. I so often wish I had had the courage to stand up for my principles when my orders to Iraq came.

I am certain that on Monday, I will go home rejuvenated and ready to continue the struggle toward peace and justice. The only thing that could be better is if I didn’t have to take an airplane to do it.