Monday morning, the last

In the morning I stopped for coffee as usual, and hugged Lee and told her for the 150th time that she made the best coffee anywhere. Keith was starting to pack up; they wanted to get the bus down to Louisiana. With camp breaking over the next two days, they wouldn’t need 3 different food providers. Everyone was going to consolidate at Camp I. We talked about starting a local group, gave them whatever supplies we had that we thought might be helpful.

Up at the end of camp, where we’d had our little circle the night before, sat a few men. I went over to say good morning and bum a cigarette. My bud from Oakland/Texas whose name I can’t remember whispered to me, “He’s a Gold Star dad from the Bush camp.” He was talking with some of the VFP. He told the story of his son, and his mission, to raise money and erect memorials in the hometowns of the fallen. The guys from the VFP, who’d been living in a ditch fro 3 weeks, dug into their pockets and pulled out ones and fives to contribute to his cause.

More people came and drew on our tent. Tina drew flowers, and I wrote things to the VFP.




A camp meeting was called, and Cindy came down to give some words. I grasped her hand and thanked her before she left, and then camp business started up.

Word from New Orleans was bad. It was spotty, and of course Monday was the day the storm hit, so we had no way of knowing yet the extent of the tragedy. However, mobilization to offer assistance was already under way at Camp Casey. First, volunteer crews were assigned to gather and inventory supplies from both camps: food, first aid, blankets, tarps, batteries, etc. Second, the supplies were to be sorted into 3 groups: those to be returned to the Peace House, those to move with camp on the tour (minimal supplies, at this point), and those that could be loaded up for Louisiana.

The VFP announced that they were headed to LA after scheduled stops in Austin and Houston, to report for duty with the Red Cross, and they’d be calling on veterans nationwide to do the same. The IVAW was holding a press conference up at Camp II, explaining the shortage of National Guard and equipment, and the implications for the storm areas, and calling on all veterans to help out the relief effort.

Fred sort of walked into my arms, crying, He’d been down the road taking pictures, and some of the 15 crosses that the “Camp Reality” folks had removed from Arlington South had fallen over. “I set them right,” he said, “but it just got to me.”

Carl explained plans for the removal of the two Arlington South memorials. The memorials would be taken down with much ceremony and prayer. I read yesterday that the denizens of “Camp Reality” across the road came to help and pray, as well. Carl then announced that the VFP had decided to leave a small section of the memorial at Camp Casey I in place, with a colonial flag at 1/2 staff and an honor guard, until the day that all the troops are brought home from Iraq. That was when I started crying. Yasser hugged me.