Out Among Humans

Out Among HumansThe ‘No Kings’ movement lead to the Declaration on Independence. It was ratified on the 4th of July.The abuses King George III inflicted on his subjects drove the colonies to break away from the British Empire.

They would fight a war, at great risk and great cost, to be free of a king.

Jefferson, Franklin and Adams wrote that defiant declaratiohn to indict George III with a list of long-standing grievances.

The KING did incite domestic insurrections.

HE obstructed justice; and intimidated judges.

HE deprived people of a trial by jury, and sent persons overseas to be tried for pretended offenses.

HE created special offices to harass political opponents.

HE cut off the colonies’ trade with the rest of the world.

HE obstructed the citizenship of foreigners.

This year, millions of American patriots in cities and towns across the nation have joined the ‘No Kings’ movement. They protest executive abuses they and the Courts see as dangerously similar to those of George III.

The British king is said to have called George Washington “the greatest man in the world” when Washington refused repeated efforts to make him king.

The father of our country understood that nothing is more dangerous than a politician who fancies himself a king, a czar, an emperor or a fuhrer.

Out Among HumansIt was as much a sacrament as a picnic for the Afghans once again facing exile.

Eid al-Adha falls on tenth day of Dhul Hijjah. It’s a day of religious observance but also a day long anticipated for feasting and celebration.

Skies and temperatures cooperated as the clans converged on a southern shoreline of the Great Lakes. The finery worn by the Afghan women and girls was in stark contrast to passersby.

As the men set up tables for the feast, the women visited on traditional carpets laid out on the grass. Teenage girls in flowing robes did cartwheels and compared soccer moves.

There was none of the amplified music routinely brought to the shore.

Refugees are keenly aware that some people resent their presence, and despite having legal status they fear being caught up in immigration sweeps. Engaging them in conversation can make them wary.

“Would it be okay to ask a question?” Yes. One of the Afghan men answered, it would be okay.

“Would it be okay to take a photo?” Yes, but only of the men, he added. (His companion offered that the women could be photographed from a distance.)

Their lives have been whipsawed by our invasion and occupation. Afghans who had collaborated with the U.S. military against the Taliban are still vulnerable to retribution since the Taliban regained power.

Afghan refugees, close to a million of them, to whom was granted temporary protection in the U.S. after the fall of Kabul are now facing deportation back to the still-present dangers they had fled.

As they gathered once again to observe Eid al-Adha, they must have been wondering where they would celebrate it next year.

The men of their generation grew up bracing for a fight.

They would learn soon enough about the possibility of being drafted into the military.

Their grandfathers were sent off to fight in the First World War. Their fathers mobilized in huge numbers for World War II. Soon after this photo was taken recruits were thrown into the ‘police action’ in Korea.

Wars and the Great Depression had hardened our country. Families endured their losses with all patriotism they could muster. The ‘strong silent type’ became the masculine ideal, out of necessity.

Registering with the Selective Service was a universal obligation for men at eighteen years of age. A guy could forget about landing a job or attending college without a ‘draft card.’

The working-class boys in this photo weren’t destined for college, and so they weren’t exempt from the draft as college kids were. They came of age just as our war in Southeast Asia began to heat up. (Three of them enlisted without being drafted. The after-effects of Scarlet Fever made the fourth ineligible to serve.)

With no victory in sight and with growing questions about our purpose there, the U.S. abandoned Vietnam; and at the same time it abandoned a policy of military conscription.

It’s doubtful that we would have started yet another disastrous war a generation later, this time in Iraq, if we’d still had a draft that sent our sons to fight overseas.

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They weren’t dog people. They weren’t cat, gerbil or goldfish people either. They were simply parents raising two kids.

They lived in a world where dogs are a source of companionship rather than protein. Where conventional wisdom holds that dogs teach empathy to children.

You may already know where this story is going.

The parents bought a year of delay by buying a book with a breed of dogs featured on each spread. Every evening the man and his daughter played a game; he would cover the text and she would memorize the provenance and personality of each breed.
Once she had her breeds down cold, she called in her chits.

She and her mother phoned from the SPCA to describe the prettiest, smartest dog in the world. He’s got a smushed-in nose, she gushed. “I will walk him everyday.”

The family decided they’d pick up the Japanese Chin first thing the next morning.

But it turned out the most wonderful dog in the world was nowhere to be found. Maybe he’d been adopted, the staff said, or maybe even, ugh… you know. The mother stayed while the staff searched databases. The man took the kids to a hot-dog place, preparing them for all possibilities.

When they came back their mother offered some hope that he’d been sent to another shelter. The kids worried that every second counted – knowing they had to get there before Cruella Di Ville.

“Might be the little guy in aisle F,” the manager said about the dog that fit the profile exactly, But it wasn’t him.

All hope was lost until, far down the aisle, through her tears, the girl saw him looking out at her. And he seemed even more perfect than the day before. She was sure he remembered her.

When the clerk opened the cage he spun around and, to sanctify the moment, defecated on the floor. That’s when they knew he was the dog for them.

Snorting and licking, tail wagging 90-mph on the expressway home, the animal took command of the sedan and family in it. He ran back and forth upon entering his new home. The backs of sofas were to his liking. He claimed corners in the sun.

They gave him the name “Sumo” and spoiled him shamelessly.

Sumo could learn tricks but he felt performing was beneath his dignity – “I’m not a pug, you know” – at the same time he would sell his soul for table scraps.

He was everybody’s pet and was almost never left alone The family walked him 3 times a day, taking turns. He and the boy became especially close when his older sister became a teenager.

A decade passed. The family had never said goodbye to a pet before, and maybe because they weren’t dog people they weren’t prepared for the intensity of their loss.