Celebrate 10 Years of the Authentic Journalism Renaissance on Saturday
By Al Giordano
Saturday night marks ten years since the first midnight that Narco News - of which The Field is part - appeared on the Internet and what else can be said other than that we're real happy that you, kind reader, have come here and have stuck around, and that we're real proud to be able to keep doing the work of authentic journalism day in, day out.
If you're in the New York area, join with more than 15 graduates of the School of Authentic Journalism, and other writers, journalists, media makers, artists, personalities, Field Hands and readers for a memorable night of food, drink and conversation.
If you can't attend, please consider making a contribution via this link:
http://www.authenticjournalism.org
Or send a check to:
The Fund for Authentic Journalism
PO Box 241
Natick, MA 01760 US
If you can attend and need directions to the celebration - it begins at 8 p.m. on Saturday in Fort Greene, Brooklyn - email me at narconews@gmail.com
On Saturday night, the next ten years begin. Stand with us as we ring in a new decade.
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Ten Years After
Submitted April 21, 2010 - 9:32 am by Lorie CavinSo. A funny thing happened on the way to Ft. Greene...my Dad, Richard, died suddenly, Monday night, after having several tough physical years. If there was ever a person that deserved a good death, it was my Dad. The heart attack didn't let him know what hit him.
He was a Navy Vet during the lull between Korea and Viet Nam. He was stationed in Cuba. My step-Mom, Jan, is the excellent woman that married my Dad, giving freely of her sweat and tears. My Mom, Helen, died Ten Years Before, with me at her side, when the pancreatic cancer won.
So. Here's the funny thing about death. It shows up.
I pulled Kurt Vonnegut's Man Without A Country off the shelf this morning. He makes me laugh and cry. Here's a bit of it, from page 3:
I saw the destruction of Dresden. I saw the city before and then came out of the air-raid shelter and saw it afterward, and certainly one response was laughter. God knows, that's the soul seeking some relief.
I reread Slaughterhouse Five right before Kurt died, slipping on the ice, hitting his head on the sidewalk. The smokes didn't get him. Death showed up.
So. My Dad's death isn't Dresden. Kurt's words keeps things in perspective for me. May I recommend the entire book, since it is filled with amazing wit and truth.
So. I know a good time was had by all at the NarcoNewsBall!
So. In honor of my Dad...$$ into the Fund.
Peace.
An added thought on 4/21:
My Dad had a naval Military Burial at Jefferson Barracks National Cemetery. My Mother is buried there also, via her husband Vet WW2/Pacific. They are the first in our family to be buried West of the Mississippi. Now they both rest along side the big river.
As the young officer bent down on one knee and offered the flag to Jan, my dear step-Mom, who was sobbing deeply, he said something like: On behalf of the People,(a grateful nation?) and the President of the United States...thank you.
I remember thinking, this young man is representing Barack Obama. My Dad received "Thanks" from the President I support with my time via OfA.
Then my brother, spoke words to the effect that our Dad served during peace-time, and what a blessing that was for our family, and how grateful he was to our Military and their families for the sacrifices they have made for our country.
So. I long for the day, when violence is not the norm. I long for the day when the color of the skin makes no difference; when the words "what's good and just for one, is good and just for the other" guide and rule our world.
So. I organize.
Peace: the word you read as you leave the cemetery.
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May he rest in peace
Submitted April 29, 2010 - 10:54 am by Ann CantelowSorry about your dad, Lorie. May he rest in great peace.
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