This journey began Saturday just after sundown when we backed the fully loaded rental SUV out of Rod’s driveway. Well, actually it began a week ago when we learned that the Army Corps planned to evict the Water Protectors on December 5th. Or it began this summer when we, in Southern Vermont and all over the nation, started holding our own vigils and actions to stand with Standing Rock. Maybe it really began in all the peace songs, all the civil rights and anti-war marches of my childhood. In some ways this journey is inevitable, a culmination of all the political and social justice work and beliefs of my whole life.
Since the first moment I learned of the non-violent resistance of the Water Protectors in North Dakota I have been inspired and felt impelled to join. But the reality of the constraints of daily life got in the way. When we heard the news of last week’s escalation by the Army Corps and then North Dakota’s governor, it was clear: we had to go. Now.
If Rod’s response had been to explain any of the many rational reasons why we could not go, I would have agreed, and would have suppressed the urge to participate. But without hesitation he replied, “Let’s do it. We’ll put out an appeal.” If you’re reading this post, you’ve probably read one or both of our letters and our explanations of why we feel so passionately that this is such a critical moment. You may be one of the 50 or so folks who responded with contributions. So many people have thanked us, but it is all of you to whom we are deeply grateful. We literally could and would not be making this trip without you.
Almost immediately we began receiving pledges and contributions on Facebook, via email and in person. The outpouring of support has been incredible. By Thursday we’d collected and sorted many large bags and boxes of warm clothing, boots, blankets, sleeping bags, food, fabric, medical supplies, electronics, horse feed, and so on. Rod’s shop became a staging area and his work tables stacked with many piles. Friday, I opened my back door and discovered my mudroom completely filled with more. Saturday mid-day I loaded all the stuff from my place, and my own personal gear, left grateful instructions for the team of dear ones taking care of my furry family, and headed to Rod’s to load what we’d organized the day before.
When I entered his shop I was completely overwhelmed. My eyes filled with tears of gratitude for the second time that day. Every surface in his 24′ x 34′ shop was covered with donations. So much more had arrived. Earlier that morning opening the envelopes that arrived in the mail I had become choked up, amazed at the trust so many are putting in us. We are deeply honored to be entrusted to carry your gifts to the people at the Oceti Sakowin camps.
So, many hours later than we’d planned, we somehow packed everything into our home of the next 3 weeks, and began.
Candles in the Fog 