Kissinger's 1976 Cable Sheds More Light on 'Operation Condor'Mention of this always brings back vivid memories of my education and awakening while living in Washington, DC! There I lost my innocence about politics and Democracy. But reflecting back also reminds me of what a rich life I've had.
From my website
Postcards HomeWashington D.C. 1979
One evening as I was cooking in my apartment I heard
what sounded like gunshots from 17th Street. I can see
the street from the double doors in the kitchen of my
condo. Soon there were police cars along with many
other official looking vehicles on 17th Street between
P Street and Massachusetts Avenue. The area on the
east side of the street was roped off and I could see
a covered body which was later removed. I am always
concerned with violence in the neighborhood, so I
called the police station and searched the newspapers
all week to get information on what had actually
happened. I finally gave up when an irate police
official yelled at me over the phone. He sounded like
he thought I was some kind of crazy person with an
obsession about crime. I got the same reaction from
the newspapers. There is no record of anything
happening on 17th street. This disturbs me more than
if they had given me information on what had actually
happened.
Since moving to D.C. I have witnessed many things I
would never have seen in Illinois. When the murder
took place outside my window I couldn't help but
remember the bombing of a car just three years ago on
Mass. Avenue, just a few blocks away on Embassy Row on
the other side of Dupont Circle. It was the murder of
a Chilean dissident, Orlando Letelier and an American
woman, Ronni Moffitt. It's amazing that I remember
their names now three years later. That's how deeply I
was affected by something so tragic happening in my
own back yard.
I am involved in the planning of a national March on
Washington for Lesbian and Gay rights this October. My
involvement in this historic civil rights march has
opened doors, or perhaps I should say windows to
understanding and seeing how this city and country
really work. As a child I remember sitting on the
living room floor during the presidential election in
1956 when our candidate was Adlai Stevenson. My mother
allowed me to stay up into the early morning hours
until the votes were counted. At the age of seven the
concept of democracy seemed very simple and honest to
me. But I do remember my mother's cynical words: "if
you're not a crook when you go into politics, you will
be when you come out!" Now I am getting a taste of
what she meant from the inside out. There is a big
machine that oversees the entire democratic apparatus.
Either you play by its rules or you get chewed into
tiny pieces as you get pulled into the turning gears.
There is something that becomes clearer to me as each
day passes here in the national capital. When I
witness a murder on the street outside my window and
the body disappears without a trace, there is
something very wrong with my original concept of
democracy. Now I feel the people whom I have trusted
with my life and my future are somehow involved in
something dark and evil. I came here to learn about
politics. The more I learn the more I realize it is
not a life for me.
