Experts in autocracies have pointed out that it is, unfortunately, easy to slip into normalizing the tyrant, hence it is important to hang on to outrage. These incidents which seem to call for the efforts of the Greek Furies (Erinyes) to come and deal with them will, I hope, help with that. As a reminder, though no one really knows how many there were supposed to be, the three names we have are Alecto, Megaera, and Tisiphone. These roughly translate as “unceasing,” “grudging,” and “vengeful destruction.”

I hope it is finally clear to everyone that impeachment action as to Donald John Trump is indeed under way (although maybe not – I’m still getting petitions). The substance of the articles will likely be extortion or attempted extortion rather than treason or attempted treason, which is fine – extortion is simply bribery with menaces, and Bribery, like Treason, is specifically cited in the Constitution as a reason to impeach. But there are many reasons that this person is a cancer on our government, most of which are not impeachable, but which are in many ways even more horrendous than the impeachable offenses. I want to remind us of one today.

Tevye is a member of the Daily Kos community (as am I, as well as Nameless and TC), as opposed to a member of the staff. Since he joined in 2014, he has written 89 articles (as Daily Kos calls them, diaries.) I have come to recognize the name, and to realize that if I read it, I will cry, and I will be a better person for it. So of course I always do. He has kindly given me permission to reprint this one, which deals with something that is as much Trump as the guards at Auschwitz and Dachau were Hitler, but for which I do not expect him to be held accountable, any more than Hitler was. If you are up to reading more, you can find all of his diaries at this link. He references the one from July 26. I personally feel the one from March 16 also explains a lot. But here he is.

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Whilst Leaving Water And Supplies In The Desert Beyond Our Border, I Found The Body Of A Refugee.

*A trigger warning to my equally sensitive brethren.
There are three pictures, used with permission, at the end of the diary that are disturbing.
Of those that recently died coming here in search of a better life.
I believe them to be pertinent to both the story and to the very real realities of the current situation.*

It was bound to happen.

I’ve been at this for months…every weekend or every other weekend.

As relayed two months back in my diary of May 26 of the reasons why i’m out here in this parched wasteland..

…because of that Polish couple who died trying to protect my ancestors from the nazis almost eighty years ago…

…and because of the pictures and stories of the plight of those desperate brothers and sisters trudging with everything they own on their back, for a better life for themselves and their families.

Why else would they walk through a desert with vulnerable children that they love dearly but for sheer desperation and determination?

Well over 8,000 bodies (!) have been discovered in this area over the last twenty years, and i’ve been going from one area to another so….it was bound to happen.

It never, ever gets easier.

Finding the bodies of once vibrant, thinking and breathing brothers and sisters with hopes and dreams.

Everytime that I have, I think about his/her family…anxiously awaiting the news that their loved ones are safe.

I think about my ancestors, and how they were hunted.

I think of my family….what if it was me?

God, just how many have i found over the decades?

As an international aid/relief worker for so many years…I have found so many.

From the aftermath of war, from violence, from natural disasters, from disease, from starvation.

In this case… this man most probably died from lack of water.

This man, whose hopes and dreams entailed coming here to America for a life of relative prosperity. For clean water and plentiful food…where death squads aren’t breaking down doors and doing what they will too whomever they please.

I’ve concentrated my effort to leaving five gallons of water, 10-15 MRE’s…food, and two space blankets in each location on route throughout this ridiculously hot and dry area of the Sonoran Desert, beyond the Arizona border.

And each one is accompanied by a message, in Spanish, in crayon, often accompanied with drawings, by the very young daughter of an ally and friend.

Telling the reader that they are needed and wanted.

That they are welcome.

And each has a rudimentary map written in the field of their location and its proximity to the border.

Almost 160 locations so far.

Suffice it to say, because of my life experiences and because that Polish couple were executed by the Nazi’s for trying, ultimately unsuccessfully, to protect my ancestors from the flames of the Holocaust, is why I’m here so often, traveling from my Colorado or New Mexico homes, after a week of work.

This last month, I have been accompanied by Father Alex*(not his real first name)…a Jesuit Priest who I first met in El Salvador in the mid- 1980’s, when we were both relatively young men.

Alex was put on a death list along with other priests, many of whom were murdered for trying to protect the meek and weak…he has permanent markings from two particular beatings, and a bullet hole were he had to feign death.

He was a friend of murdered Archbishop Óscar Romero, and with his six fellow Jesuits murdered by the Salvadorian Army’s U.S.-trained Atlacatl Battalion… and knew Jean Donovan, who’s rape and murder brought attention to the world of the beast that was let loose there.

Though gentle and with his heart on his sleeve….he’s no shrinking violet.

A man of deep conviction and love.

We started off early in the morning, before the sun is at its most intense.

We got word that caches that i had left have been definitively found by Border Patrol and destroyed…..those rat bastards.

So we decided to go to that area once more, to resupply the area.

We supplied two locations, and went back to our vehicle so we could supply two more.

Not more than 200 yards from one location that I had left supplies some months back….i saw in the distance a sight what is now to me unmistakable.

“Oh hell no.”

Alex followed my eyes and he saw what i saw.

We knew what we’d find, but he ran to the figure with a burst of adrenaline which belayed his age.

A young man….late teens or early twenties.

He wasn’t there that long.

Tell-tale signs. The birds and animals of prey, insects, etc had only just begun their work.

His large tattered but undisturbed backpack.

Alex sat in the sand silent next to him for a few minutes, whilst i for some reason walked in circles around the site chanting a Hindu mantra.

I went over to my supplies to get some water and a pair of gloves, and I checked his body…no signs of violence.

Alex located his wallet with i.d. and pictures.

I heard Alex say “So here you are”, and he said it with a strange inflection that it made me turn to him, and i saw that his eyes were wet.

He is a dark man, made darker by the sun, but he appeared almost pale at that moment.

“Our Honduran brother is 20….and his first name is Jesus.”

That revelation… that symbolism…. made me sit in the sand where i had been standing.

Here i was in the desert with a devout Catholic priest and the body of a man named Jesus.

We didn’t speak for probably fifteen minutes.

I silently got up to inspect the site that the Border Patrol destroyed.

Empty plastic jugs, punctured over and again.

There was a good chance that this young man could have found it and wouldn’t be here, dead.

That realization had me in near fury, but that was quelled when i returned to my friend.

He showed me the pictures in the wallet.

It showed a family. His mother? The three pictures of a young lady…his sweetheart? Wife? The four pictures of a young boy, from a baby to age two or three….his son?

Awaiting a message that will never come.

Except from Alex.

A message and news that will devastate them forever.

Alex read me a letter that was in the backpack, from his mother.

How she was worried for him and that she loved him.

‘Te amo.’

All this was swimming in my head, whilst i looked at the pictures and i started to tear up.

I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder.

Suffice it to say, we got Jesus out of there, with the help of Mexican friends.

Alex put a stick in the ground before we left, and tied his crucifix necklace around it.

His family will be searched for and if and when they are located, Alex will deliver the news personally, and i have been invited to join him on this….. grim pilgrimage?

I just got home yesterday morning, am a little raw, and am processing my many feelings.

And what to do next.

It’s not business as usual anymore.

It hasn’t been all summer, but now.…

The Border Patrol and Ice are killers.

Their ilk hunted, tortured and murdered my ancestors…

…and so many people in so many countries that i have personally witnessed.

Here, they will send those known to be on death lists right back, to die.

And destroy what gives one life.

No.

Let’s just say, that i am upping my game.

That i’m using what i have learned these past three decades, the contacts of allies and comrades and friends….and i will assist in more tangible ways.

And you can be rest assured that unless i am in transit to or from Honduras….i will be somewhere here in the Sonoran Desert next week.

So no one has to end up like this….due to sadism and brutality.…for closing the border and making legal immigration impossible ….for a sip of water.

What’s taking place NOW.

Please God, no.

No more.

Not whilst i have a will and a way.

And right now…

…I have both.

In memory of Jesus…

…and the family who will never again be able to say to him ‘te amo’.

-Remembrance.

-Solidarity.

-Resistance.

Come what may.
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A word about the destruction of water bottles and other supplies. It’s considered “harboring” and “conspiracy.” I thought I had written about Dr. Scott Warren (just one of many being tried on these charges), but I cannot find an article – possibly in comments.

There are a couple of organizations working in this field. Here are two – neither Tevye nor I have any affiliation with either, but both could use help, if possible.

Dayani Cristal

No More Deaths/No Mas Muertes

Alecto, Megaera, and Tisiphone, we can’t all be on the front lines. We can’t all contribute financially. But help us to think about what we can do, even if it is only thoughts and prayers. And supporting impeachment.

The Furies and I will be back.