The Ester Republic

the national rag of the people's independent republic of ester

Letters to the Editor
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volume 8 number 7, July 2006

June 20, 2006
Native scouts’ blood

Delivered May 30, Juneau public meeting on Iraq, L. Murkowski listening, Bud Carpenetti MC

On November 22, 1963, I walked across the frozen slough to the Shepard’s Trading Company store in the village of Alakanuk, and the handful of guys who could generally be found around the stove there said President Kennedy had been killed. The next morning a National Guard aircraft landed in the slough and sat on the ice for two days. The majority of the able-bodied male population of the village were members of the National Guard Scout Battalion and they were put on alert. The airplane had a load of live ammunition that was going to be distributed if the assassination degenerated into war or civil chaos. The same thing had happened late in October of the previous year during the Cuban missile crisis. Ultimately, we were not successful in reconciling our protective isolation on the frozen delta with a planeload of ammunition sitting on the slough ice. For the school kids, of which I was one, these were steps in the generations-long process that has resulted in a litany of social problems in bush villages and with my own, now absolute, sense of alienation from the current national administration.

The largely Native national guard scout battalion was formed at a time when there was a national draft, and it provided a mechanism for eligible individuals to use local knowledge of the Arctic and satisfy their service obligation. Now I read that Alaska scouts are to be sent to Iraq.

This is a monstrous act. A president who has started a war on the other side of the earth for either personal reasons, or for public reasons that change on a more or less monthly basis, and the military organization of which he is titular head has decided to solve some of their staffing and troop number problems by sending a specialized Arctic National Guard corps to be placeholders in the desert in summer. The members of the Alaska scout guard come from a place in America about which George Bush has not the faintest inkling, and now they are being asked to die to defend the indefensible. This is the relentless logic of canon fodder. Sending the scout guard to Iraq is premeditated murder.

Senator Murkowski, there is a message that you should take to heart, if not to Washington. When Alaska Native guardsmen start dying in the desert, and subsequently when returning guard veterans start adding their own names to the list of village suicides in bush Alaska; on that day the stuff United States Congress members use on their rubber stamps in Washington will not be ink. It will be the blood of that self-same constituency.

Eric Forrer
Juneau

 

July 5, 2006
Hello!

We watched the Ester 4th of July Parade this year and had a wonderful time! Our thanks to all the organizers for making such a wonderful community event (although I'll admit we live off of Goldstream). I had to send this picture along of Jeff and Darcy. They're outside the post office watching the fire trucks go by. Thanks too for the back issues of The Ester Republic--they were a great read!

Darcy shocked

Darcy shocked

Lili Misel
Goldstream

 

July 8, 2006
The Passing of Lynn Zimmer, PhD

Dr. Lynn Zimmer, PhD, sociology professor at the University of New York, dear friend and partner to Dr. John Morgan, MD, with whom she co-authored the book Marijuana Myths, Marijuana Facts‚ died as a result of multiple sclerosis on Sunday, July 2, 2006, at the age of fifty-nine. She was born ten years after the Marijuana Tax Stamp Act of 1937, and she spent many years of her life articulately speaking out against the ills of prohibition, and the inherent injustice of criminally punishing persons for their own adventures in seeking their paths in life.

During early opposition to the “War On Drugs”, a war that has harmed more lives than the drugs themselves, finding credentialed professionals to publicly confront the government’s propaganda was not always easy. Many were frightened of the stigma, or worse, believed the now sixty-nine years of well-funded distortions that continue to fuel this inherent violation of civil rights and trespass on one’s sole proprietorship over one’s own life and experiences.

For some in the drug policy reform movement, Dr. Zimmer and Dr. Morgan’s book was a well-researched box of high-powered, intellectual ammunition. (I donated my last copy to the Alaska State Legislature in 2005 as part of an evidence package related to Governor Murkowski’s recent effort to violate the Ravin Decision.)

Contending with the levels of ignorance often encountered in debating the war on drugs seemed at times unbearable, requiring the patience of a saint and the wisdom of a sage. Lynn Zimmer possessed the sort of skillful articulation, compassion, humor, and zest that is required for that sort of battle. Her friends will tell you so.

I had the opportunity to see Dr. Zimmer speak at the Drug Policy Foundation’s 13th International Conference on Drug Policy Reform in Washington, DC in the spring of 2000, the same conference at which she received awards for her work toward ending drug war insanity.

My initial impression of her was typical for my being a then-early-40s, activist, professional, American male: she was a beautiful, brunette, drop-dead-gorgeous woman of fifty-three, with a clear and strong voice that carried compassion, humor, cynicism, wit, and deep knowledge of her subject. She was damned funny, well-informed, and had a gift for speaking in a way that reminded one of having coffee with a well-traveled friend whom they hadn’t seen in a decade.

She described our struggle in ways that produced smiles and laughter in one moment, tears in the next, fond and silent remembrance, and a rounded ending of applause. She knew and understood people, she knew and understood our struggle, and she had enough strength that she had not surrendered to the pitfalls of bitterness that so many have fallen into after watching friends and loved ones harmed unmercifully, year after year, for having dared to walk their own chosen path outside the bogus bounds set forth by the ever-presumptuous strong arm of the nanny state.

She joked of the absurdity in the government’s attempts to demonize the people of an entire generation’s or subculture’s memories of sitting on a beach with a loved one, smoking a joint, or experiencing hallucinogen-inspired insights, in solitude, listening to waves crash, with the Doors on the stereo, and giving one’s virginity to their first true love.

She spoke of the peculiar attempts of governments to convince an entire generation of persons that this was all somehow inherently evil, wicked, mean, unnatural, and nasty, and that, despite what we may have thought that we remembered about it, it lacked any real enjoyment whatsoever…

She was no puritan, but she had a deep sense of morality, humanity, and kindness, and knew that the current War on (Some) Drugs is poison to the human spirit.

It is still today a challenge to find people of Ms. Zimmer’s grace and style to speak for this cause. And now, aside from the world’s loss of a wonderful person, the drug policy reform movement has one less compelling voice to aid in its plea.

Lynn Zimmer, rest in peace. And thank you for your spirit and insight. You fought the good fight.

Dirk R. Nelson
Ester

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