Never forget the lessons of yesterday for the sake of tomorrow
By Vincent Guarisco
Online Journal Contributing Writer
Feb 25, 2009, 00:13
�You can walk away from these stories today, but if
you choose to follow them they will become a profound part of you and will
deeply affect your life.� --Anthony Guarisco, founder and director,
International Alliance of Atomic Veterans (IAAV, with AAV here in the US),
to photojournalist James Lerager. (Note: Anthony was the first of many Atomic Veterans Lerager
interviewed.)
In a world full of mind-wrenching turmoil, I am a gentle
dreamer searching for some soulful serenity. But in reality, my dreams are not
always so pleasant when I revisit the arc of history when our Pentagon
warmongers worked day and night to demonize our own Stars and Stripes when they
unleashed nuclear hell-on-earth to establish the most powerful military
presence on earth.
Indeed, the Hibakusha people of Hiroshima and Nagasaki know
this lesson well. Just as surely as all 300,000 Atomic Veterans (including my
father) know they are the government�s best-kept-secret when they were quickly
deemed �expendable� by Uncle Sam�s nuclear weapons testing programs.
Sadly, the wars of our fathers are the most unforgiving
testament of time. This testament has filled the Pacific Ocean to the brim
with blood-soaked tears that will haunt our memory for generations to
come. In present day terms, the Armageddon clock may have notched back a
tick or two from the days of President Harry Truman to our new modern day
President Barack Obama, but we still have many concerns to worry about before
the clock has spider webs. In reality, the clock-hand did palpitate
nervously during the Bush years, and the world is a much happier and safer
place without him. But we have a long way to go before we can call it �safe.�
I am a long-standing peace activist who joined the
anti-nuclear movement three decades ago to abolish all atomic weapons. Such
weapons have proven unequivocally to cause prolonged, inhumane
suffering and death. I entered the activist fray as a young lad back in the
late 70s with my atomic veteran father, Anthony
Guarisco who, after his exposure, was battling the government for his
VA healthcare, plus working hard to prevent any further annihilation the
likes of which he had already seen while serving in the military during WWII. He
was a maverick among men for humanity with a simple dream -- that no one
should ever have to endure the effects of radiation exposure as he and many
others did.
My father was a powerful voice for those in society who
seemingly had no voice at all, and he devoted much of his life to this worthy
cause. The 1968
Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT) was an instant heartfelt relief to
everyone involved. And, on September 24, 1996, when President Bill Clinton
signed the Comprehensive
Test Ban Treaty (CTBT), 25 years of brutal campaigning against nuclear
testing came to an end.
Yes, the dream of ending the atomic madness was finally
going our way for a change. Plus, 1996 was the last year a �nuclear
reactor� went on-line in the US -- the pregnant mother whose afterbirth
gave us nuclear weapons production. Indeed, we all hoped this horror show was
finally ending, and that we had constricted the nuclear firefly of plant
construction, missile production and atomic testing. However, it was hard
to rest easy because we still had enough missiles in our nuclear arsenal
to destroy the world several thousand times over. Had it not been for the
production of uranium (U-238) which has been ongoing since the days of
President Ronald Reagan, we could have licked our wounds and focused most of
our attention on weapons disarmament and clean energy to replace nuclear power.
But that�s not how the story goes. Thus, we still continue to produce this
tough, high-density toxic metal with armor piercing ability,
and incorporate it into our military hardware apparatus.
The reality is depleted uranium (DU) munitions are
still widely being used on multiple battlefields today. This will breed a whole
new generation of atomic veterans. Those of us in the know call it �The Metal
of Dishonor� causing many sick veterans to be inflicted with �Gulf War
Syndrome.� I would like to remind everyone of DU�s true meaning to us offspring
of atomic soldiers. We call it �Death Unlimited.� Remember this well, when DU
particles lodge inside your body, the only thing �depleting� is your health --
and ultimately, your life.
Astonishingly enough, it is estimated that up to 5 billion
years worth of U-238 (DU) is currently sitting in power plants today and is
available for immediate commercial production for building future shielding,
bombs, missile warheads and bullets. This is very scary indeed. Especially, in
knowing DU has a half-life of 4.5 billion years. Even the thought of this
should ripple goose-bumps across your skin. It did mine. And that is
why I will never give up the fight in my search for serenity. People should
never have to feel afraid to close their eyes and dream a lovely image filled
with peaceful song.
It always amazes me how the world can
continue surviving under the threat of such unsettling madness. I
have the right to say this because I have already seen the effects on those who
walked the plutonium path of guttering death. I still have flashbacks when
I remember what happened to many of my dearest friends and loved ones
whose lives were tormented in unimaginable ways.
Such was the case for my father�s friend, John
Smitherman. Like my father, John was a Navy seaman who fought in WWII,
one of many unlucky humans to be exposed to radiation at �Operation
Crossroads� in 1946. But he suffered much worse than most. After being
exposed, he later developed lymphedema which caused his limbs to painfully
swell two to three times their normal size, resembling elephantitus. Eventually,
after having both legs amputated, and with his left hand largely swelled, he
died in 1983 after the cancer attacked his colon, liver, stomach, lungs, and
spleen.
Had his cancer not changed course by attacking his vital
organs, John would have become �a living-nub� before dying. He
is featured in Oliver Stone�s �Radio Bikini,� which was nominated for an Oscar
for Best Documentary in 1987. Even though his limbs were painfully swelled with
cancer, he gladly allowed himself to be wheeled around from one podium to the
next tirelessly working with the National
Association of Atomic Veterans (NAAV) as a living example of how radiation
exposure can hideously tear a man apart bit by bit. Disregarding his own
suffering, he tirelessly continued his work as the cancer ate away at him. Indeed,
he bravely fought the nuclear weapons industry with all his might, allowing himself
to be exploited with every ounce of life he had left to give.
Aside from my own father, Smitherman is the bravest and
kindest man I ever had the privilege of knowing. He was shamefully denied
service-connected disability from an uncaring government and Veterans
Administration seven times. How sweet. God rest his soul. May he
peacefully rest under God�s gracious wing where denial, pain and suffering and �nuclear
weapons� will never be included in his vocabulary again.
Over the years, I have thought of John and my father on
many a sleepless night. I make use of this time by
pounding aching fingers across this old keyboard to write articles,
letters to editors, or letters to my representatives to remind them of the many
patriots who have paid a very heavy price for the decisions they make. If I
am passionate in my writing, it is because -- if we are to have a
tomorrow -- yesterday�s truth must not be forgotten. I open doors, but others
must enter to fulfill our collective dream of peace. I have watched many
honorable men and women perish as a result of those who inhumanely
considered them to be nothing more than test animals
and, therefore, �expendable.� Thus, in memory of those who fell
victim to this onslaught of misery, it shall remain my catalyst to inspire all
those I can to be one collective vigilant voice without end. Hopefully,
with enough involvement, maybe it will finally be enough to deliver us to a
much better, brighter and friendlier place for which to rest our aching heads,
and heal our weary souls.
Never succumb to the powers that be. Americans are a
powerful force when we combine our efforts under one banner. When I first
arrived here at this outermost edge of the anti-nuclear peace movement with my
parents so many years ago, we became a mighty collective force that shook the presidential
pillars, and we dried many inkwells for a number of rubber-stamping lawmakers
and legislators. We brought them to their knees with truth that even they could
not deny. And it paid off, one small victory at a time. It can be done. Let�s
rekindle that old activist spark, let us teach the younger generation to carry
the torch of tomorrow. Get involved. Spread the word. We must close this
Godforsaken nuclear nuthatch once and for all before more radioactive Kool-Aid
is doled out or before we destroy not only ourselves but the hopes of
those not yet born.
Indeed, change is in the air. We must now hound this new
Obama administration and all members of both houses of Congress to
come to our way of thinking. We must not fail. We must engage the �obstructionists�
and battle them in our own home theaters. We must enlighten those individuals
with narrow vision, rejuvenate healthy minds who have been told lies
without end, and we must again dry the inkwells of those individuals who
not give it a second thought to snapping the peaceful olive branch of hope like
a useless twig to be destroyed. Because they are the scoundrels of human
arrogance. And because . . . we serve a higher purpose in life.
Our mission is clear and not necessarily in this order: fix
the economy, give us a comprehensive single-payer health care program,
nationalize the banking industry, regulate Wall Street, stop our
ongoing wars in Asia and the Middle East, refuse to build a stupid missile
shield to restart the cold war with Russia, offer a fair and even-handed
approach in the Israel-Palestine conflict with equal land rights restored
to the original charter and an equal amount of aid money (if offered) given to
both Israel and Palestine. Don�t screw up the New Deal, No more throwing vets
to the waste bin of time like old worn-out shoes once their services are
no longer needed. No more secret, covert actions running amuck, get rid of our nukes
and address the needs and wants of the American people so that even the
most vulnerable among us can take part in our continued pursuit of
happiness . . .
Will President Barack Obama rise to the occasion? Only time
will tell. If not, he will quickly be added to a very long list of previous
war-mongers before him who did not serve the will of the people and could very
well be remembered as just another official assassin of peace who helped to
foster our eventual annihilation. The moment is here and the choice is
his. For now, I will remain optimistic that he will achieve greatness. May the
wings of change forever inspire all of us to do our part to guide his
leadership. God bless and good will to all . . .
Vincent
Guarisco is
a freelance writer from Arizona, a contributing writer for many web sites, and
a lifetime founding member of the Alliance of Atomic Veterans. The 21st
century, once so full of shining promise, now threatens to force countless
millions of us at home and abroad into a dark abyss of languishing poverty and
silent servitude; a lowly prodigy of painful struggle and suffering that could
stream for generations to come. I�m wishing for a miracle, before it is too
late, the masses will figure it out and will stand as one and roar. So, pass
the word -- it�s past time to take back what is ours -- the American Dream
where the pursuit of happiness, the ability to live in a free and peaceful
nation is a reality. We bought it, and we paid for it. It�s time to take it
back. For replies, email vincespainting1@hotmail.com.
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