Sunday morning and cool, with news

I woke at 7:30, stretched and brushed my teeth and changed clothes. More excellent coffee from lovely Lee, and I sat down under the canopy at the shuttle stop to sip and write and watch the camp come to life. I met Sami, from Austin, who’d never camped in her life yet braved the ditch to be here. I snapped a couple of photos: one of Mike, a vet for peace who’d made a sign that said, “If Bush is right, Jesus was wrong.” Packer-Backer-Bob came over and serenaded us on his Native American flute.



Buddy came by and sat down, and I asked what the word for the day was. That was the first I heard of the threat to Louisiana. Buddy explained that they needed to evacuate 6 million people, and he was going to head back home to start working with relief efforts. He hoped he’d still have a house.

When we got up, Buddy handed me a CD by Gulf War vet Dennis Kyne, called “I’m not resisting”. Don’t forget this, he said. I said it wasn’t mine, and Buddy said take it. “You should get him to autograph it,” he said. Whether or not Dennis is a good musician, he grinned, “He’ll be a famous political prisoner some day, and I’ll represent him.”

He was in a remarkably good mood for someone waiting for his hometown to be washed away. I can’t imagine Buddy Spell looking discouraged or anxious. From the very brief time I spent in his presence, I will say he’s just one of those people that you’d always look to in a tight situation, radiating honesty, humor, and strength.