Richard Grossman - in memorian

          The news came that Richard Grossman, the long time advocate for justice and true democracy, had died two evenings before Thanksgiving of 2011.  In the email, Jack Ossont referred to Richard as an unlawyer and historian.

          I first met Richard many years ago at a weekend session of the early version of the Daniel Pennock Democracy School, the two and one half days retreat that taught us so much about the U.S.A. never having been a democracy nor was the original intent for the country to be a true democracy.  Also there to teach and converse with us in the Deposit, NY countryside at a place run by nuns was Tom Linzey.  
          Richard and Tom, both lawyers, set out the excruciating details of the evidence from statutes, case law, and essays put together in a thick manual, which I still have. As a teacher myself and with a law degree, I appreciated the dedication, time and energy it took the organizers and leaders of the Democracy School to connect the dots, put on this two and a half day retreat and the manual itself.  Looking back, I am especially grateful to have Richard as one of the guides through the thicket of centuries of deception.
          The weekend carved open my mind to release the illusions I had been fed.  The pain, outrage and betrayal was almost overwhelming especially when truly understanding the disgusting immorality of using the 14th Amendment of the U.S. Constitution, passed to acknowledge the inherent free state of enslaved peoples, to install the fiction of corporate person-hood. From the questions some people asked, it was clear that it took and takes time for the average person to realize we all have been fooled.
          Much as the U.S. Thanksgiving holiday is really a day of mourning for the genocide that the Europeans perpetrated upon the indigenous people already living on the land, I gives thanks for Richard's life and his work. Richard is and was, as Jack noted, a lion.  The update in Wikipedia notes his birthday as August 10, squarely in the center of Leo, for what it's worth. 
          The last time I saw Richard was at the workshop on criminalizing hydrofracking held at the Green Fest NY/ U.S. Greens annual meeting in August of 2011.  He seemed to me then a gentle lion.  He urged that we there at the workshop hold a trust building retreat soon as we were in for a long fight.  From previous fights against entrenched power, he knew the need to build trust amongst allies. Some time later I emailed him about that idea.  He thanked me for liking the idea.  
I suggest we hold that retreat in his memory.

Finger Lakes Cheese trail Saturday Nov. 19, 2011

          Chats with two female farmers.  First Englebert Farms in Nichols, NY.  As I drove towards the farm, signs of flooding devastation still around.  The Susquehanna River on the right seemed closer to the road than the last time I drove along it last year.  Rte 17/I86 on the left in the distance, plus a creek.  Turned into the road to the farm.  Mud everywhere, churned up by heavy farm vehicles, some parked nearby.  Stepped into the store.  I'm the sole customer.  Snacked from the cubes of assorted cheeses, avoided the tidbits of meats as tempting as they looked, discovered the tub of horseradish cheese spread from which to sample.  Fell in love, although I usually avoid cow's milk.  Lisa was friendly and we conversed.  Large sealed photos of the flooding of the farm.  I sensed she wanted to talk about it, moving the cows to higher ground, the farm vehicles under water, the water up to the ceiling of the store.  It had to be traumatic. 
          She showed me the lines on the barn wall outside, marking the height of each of the past 3 major 100 year floods in the last few years. The first flood line is below the window following the left rim.  The 2006 flood line is 1/3 way up beside the left rim. The most recent flood's line was above the top rim of the window.  Barn's windows all cracked an/or broken from the surging waters.  First, the creek savaged out of its course, wildly, powerfully.  From one side.  From the other side came the river's waters rising steadily.  I cannot imagine how terrifying it must have been to have waters coming at you and all you love and work for on both sides.  When I asked what her plans were for the next flood which will come, she said she intends to move to higher ground, that she grew up on the farmland nearby.  She pointed in the direction, intimating that she does not want to move away.  But for her kind of farming, organic, etc., she needs 200 acres.  Finding that amount of suitable acreage in the area for a reasonable price is hard.  People are holding on to land in hopes of striking it big from gas drilling.

          The cows outside looked really happy and at peace. A huge bunch of them were relaxing on the ground behind the store.


          I secured my purchases and drove to Candor for a visit to buy more cheese.  I talked with the owner, asking how business was going.  She has customers but people in general in the area are hurting, that she's expanded the stock in her store to include regular items that the local residents could come in and purchase for a reasonable price, relating the story of a man with a wife and three kids who was making good money before but who was now humiliated about getting food stamps. I suggested that he did not need to feel humiliated, that it's the system, the culture. She got a new double wide, drastically marked down.  She pointed to it outside the window.  We spoke a bit about gas drilling.  I mentioned confidentiality agreements, what they are and what they mean.  She had never heard of this. We talked about some other maters related to politics and how certain legislators had become less reasonable after they got leased.   I selected an herbed cheese log, a block of raw yogurt cheddar and a jug of kefir.  She pointed out that it was kefir.  I said yes, I know it's cultured milk and the word is in big green letters on the front.  She explained that she started pointing up it being kefir after a woman returned a jug saying the milk was spoiled, wanting a free replacement.  Even though the owner of the dairy explained that it's supposed to taste sour as it's kefir, the customer would not hear her and even demanded a refund of the difference between the cost of a jug of milk and a jug of kefir. Lots of different kinds of education needed.
          Since then, I've been having the kefir with small homegrown strawberries stirred in, sweetened with a splash of agave nectar, as a morning treat.  Yum!

Valentina Lisitsa is a superb pianist with a lovely personality who should be known worldwide

Fire Island

News reports today state that a massive fire broke out on Fire Island in New York City, the Long Island part of it.  I saw on YouTube a video of the fire-fighters boarding the ferry to get to the fire.
This brought back memories of my trip on one of those ferries out to Fire Island. A description of that trip forms the last section of my Ph.D. dissertation.  A photo I took (see to the right here) is the last of the images of the 33 images in the work.  I hope to get the work published.

Interruptions

At the end of a day long meeting today, November 11, 2011, I was packing up  and about to head out the car with my stuff and head home. I had arranged for the location of the statewide meeting and also for the breakfast and the lunch catering.  We had set up groups for follow through activities after we left.  I picked Media and Messaging as did another person, along with Mark D. The two of us began talking near the exit from the room at the college.  This was the only group with just three people in it.  The other person is a lawyer living in Bufalo, making two reasons at least why I wanted us to converse a bit before we parted, the lawyer part and the Buffalo part as I graduated from the University at Buffalo law school, along with our being on the same team.
A woman with an accent inserted herself into our conversation.  Neither the team member nor myself resisted her interruption. Making some comment about a "fracking contract" and how having a mortgage would be a way to release you from a "fracking contract" (i.e. gas lease), she was insistent.  I had no wish to speak with her and took off to pick up my stuff and leave the room (especially as I was the last out).  The team member and the interrupter were now in the foyer of the lecture hall.  I later wondered why she thought what she wanted to say was more important that what the man and I were saying to each other.  Yet another instance to ask the question: "Is it rudeness or racism?"

New York Botanical Garden - azalea section - spring 2011 - before the storm