|
|||||||
|
|
|
|||||
|
|
|||||||
A shocking early A.M. mass shooting left two dead, the restaurant floor covered with spent shells, and six people injured, one critically, in Vancouver. Police call it the worst shooting incident the west coast city has ever seen and call it a 'targeted' attack. All the victims are Asian and the shooters, apparently two of them, are unknown. The victims are, however, known to police. The Vancouver police department called on governments to apply more resources to deal with gang-related violence.
 Crime Index |
Facilitator |
Clay Adams works for the Vancouver Coastal Health Authority that operates Insite, in Vancouver, B.C., North America's only safe injection site. Insite is located in the Downtown East Side (DES) of Vancouver, a place with a long history of being 'the wrong side of the tracks'.
At first the Hastings area drew people who came to work on docks or to disappear onto ships. Draft Dodgers from the Vietnam War showed up in the 1960s and 1970s with an intense drug culture that escalated to alarming heights and has stayed ever since. INSITE in Vancouver is a controversial action taken by a community that has run out of options dealing with rampant drug abuse.
"People either support it or they don't since it began three years ago," said Adams, "The debate continues, but clearly since (the opening) we have seen support increase." Studies are being conducted into the effectiveness of the safe injection site at the federal level and with the Vancouver-based Centre for Excellence for HIV/AIDS at St Paul's Hospital.
Adams said, "We are located at 137 East Hastings Street, just West of Main and Hastings," in the heart of the DES. The location borders Vancouver's Chinatown, "a very active area," of the city. The DES is home to a variety of store front retail outlets, poverty action groups, walk-in health clinics, food shops, porn shops, inexpensive hotels filled with disenchanted humanity. East Hastings itself is a throughfare that turns into the TransCanada Highway.
"Our clientele is not necessarily from the DES. It comes from right across the province and from out of province. There are no residency requirements," said Adams, "We are seeing 700 clients a day." The site is used by prople whose identification is confirmed by assigned password. The Insite Safe Injection Site is open "18 hours a day, 10 A.M. to 4 A.M., seven days a week."
Adams said, "We are about at capacity. We don't run 24 hours a day because we cannot afford it." Drug addicts bring in their own 'stuff', "The drugs used are usually heroin and cocaine, but other drugs are used, including methamphetimines and others. "The 'stash' is their own, and they bring in enough for one sitting, one injection, and there are no assisting persons," to accompany the drug user.
Insite staff provide medical supervision and monitoring, and many staff members are Registered Nurses, as well as professional non-clinical counsellors. They have a 12-person staff. The place is set-up with open area injection booths, not private at all. "That is the point, the activity is supervised."
Popularity of Insite is undeniable, "the numbers speak for themselves," said Adams, "The number of users per day is telling us it is useful. The site is very well supported by the Vancouver Police. It takes injection activity," something that is an all-too-common occurrence in the Vancouver DES, "out of the street. We get people off the street to provide safe injections under supervision, prevent communicable disease transmission, and prevent death or disability due to overdose. We have cleaner streets."
Adams said other police departments in Canada are less enthralled about Insite. "They have indicated concerns that harm reduction should not supercede enforcement of the law." Police forces require clear-cut rules of engagement to deal with crime. Safe injection sites tend to muddy the waters of human behaviour, what is acceptable and what is not, but what is illegal remains the same.
On the other hand, certain diseases like HIV/AIDS and hepatitis 'C' can turn into epidemics. "We are seeing some signs that communicable disease rates will drop. We have suffered no overdose fatalities in three years of operation," said Adams, "although it is too early to judge our progress on the disease side." The federal government recently announced an extension to Insite, permitting it to operate until December 2007.
Feb 7 07 - The City of Edmonton witnessed a a unique campaign this winter to reduce violence in the Central Albertan capital city. They called it "Enough is Enough, Let's stop the violence," and it developed quickly and effectively to deal with a peculiar spike in violence in Edmonton.
"Mayor Stephen Mandel and Police Chief Mike Boyd met with city management in early Dec. 06, to initiate a program," said Robert Moyles, Acting Communications Director for Edmonton City Hall, "to aim at reducing incidents of youth violence leading to fatalities," in the city and adjoining communities.
As the year 2006 came to a close Edmonton headed for another record as homicide capital of Canada, and everybody was talking about recurring news reports involving stabbings and killings. Edmonton media revealed a public increasingly concerned about neighbourhood safety and hoodies walking around with knives or other illegal weapons.
"The need for action came on different fronts, and one was the public affairs campaign to raise awareness," said Moyles. The television campaign used clips from Mandel, Boyd, community leaders, and hockey stars and ran on television, radio, and all media, which cooperated with donated space to make delivery of the message possible.
Other efforts included special marching orders for police, "and the city taking enforcement action of safety codes." A Public Safety Compliance Team was established from bylaw, fire, police, and Capital Health officials to conduct investigations, "every weekend," he said, "A number of groups came together with no extra personnel required," but new levels of cooperation and coordination were implemented.
Moyles noted the Public Safety Compliance Team, which started in Jan, 07, already shut down one location in downtown Edmonton for liquor violations and operating outside specified license parameters. "The first result happened in last couple days with the shutdown of a bar."
Edmonton's anti-violence initiative will continue to evolve to serve the specific needs of a community that has extraordinary growth and resulting social pressures. "Definitely it is important to communicate to new publics regarding the impact of their behaviour," said Moyles, and the question will be answered shortly about how the city will do it, including input from professional and academic sources.
Other input includes improved lighting, higher visibility of police, and community wide enforcement, which all adds up to positive preventative measures. The Public Safety Compliance approach is putting even-handed pressure on bar owners to act responsibly, the most of whom are entirely compliant with regulation, he said, but because a few flaunt the rules and over-serve or permit minors on the premises.
The next phase is reaching out to a specific audience of 10 to 18 year olds to influence them to take specific actions when violence occurs around them. 'Safe Edmonton Community Services' department will continue to administer aspects of the public awareness program.
No, make that 'high murder' rates. . . Edmonton tops them all for annual murder rates, again
Dec 22 06 - Edmonton has different problems than, Vancouver, where the concern is drug addicts tweaking mayhem. Edmonton is Canada's number one city for murder. We should remember this is nothing new; it happened last year, and, by the way, murder has existed since the dawn of time. The Bible starts with Cain murdering his better brother and we never knew how much was lost in Abel (who died only a few hundred years old). The epochal event indicates murder has a long history.
Murder was behavior that required dictates like, say, commandments (to stay within parameters of the religions), and laws, and, eons of recorded history later young men continue to murder for inexplicable reasons. The method for containment of the occurance is called prevention (trying to stop the bloodshed). Today, in Canada, they go to jail, and sometimes for a long time, once murderers are apprehended and convicted.
Prevention was the focus for Edmonton Mayor Stephen Mandel and Police Chief Mike Boyd when they discussed the situation in the Murder Capital of Canada in the aftermath of another bloodstained weekend Nov. 18-19, 06. "This is the number one issue," for Edmontonians, said the mayor, "People have to know the City of Edmonton is a safe city." The mayor also said, "The time has come that the courts have got to step up and begin to give the police some support when they do arrest these people who are committing these crimes."
Knives were the weapons used to end lives in the chilly streets of Nov. 2006, especially one weekend that saw consecutive nights with death by stabbing. Police Chief Boyd declared what the EPS intended to do, "We're going to be identifying some of the areas in this city where this kind of behavior is most likely to emerge. . . We're going to be focusing our operational efforts around these areas." Murder is, indeed, all too recurring for the comfort of Edmontonians, the vast majority who have overcome the urge to kill.
Police spokesperson in the city force commented on the 'senseless' and random nature of the murder of Cole McGillis on Whyte Avenue, which happened the night after the equally meaningless stabbing death of Evan Grykuliak (at his own 18th birthday in the west end), and slightly preceding another random and vicious knife attack near Whyte Avenue (possibly related to McGillis' murder). Twelve of three dozen Edmonton murders so far this year came from stabbing.
Do Edmonton citizens need to fear? In any city people should definitely keep their heads to avoid random violence that could result in their own needless demise. But yes the City of Champions looks destined to repeat the title as Murder City of. . . by setting a record t'boot in 2006. This bad news dampens enthusiasm for an economic boom considered partly to blame for the extraordinary murder rate. Some sociologists say a blue-collar boom creates a population that entertains killings. Others say that is hogwash, and personal choice is driving the actions of murderers.
What about the murders in which the accused (or convicted) killers come from middle class situations, educated, raised under ostensibly healthy circumstances? Are there indications that such murderers are products of society, or social problems that accidently survive the usual instruction of families? Would society be wise to deal with the potential for murder in an institutional framework, perhaps a classroom in school each year devoted to why you don't murder people?
One of the comments on the violence came from Bill Pitt, a UofA criminologist, who said, "I think what they're creating is a geography of uncertainty in this country as to what's going to happen in the courts. And anytime you have that uncertainty you're going to have disorder. And when you have disorder, you're going to have more violence." The professor suggested courts apply harsher sentences.
"It's not all society's fault. There's an individual choice here that people are making. There's a psychology of murder." He added, "We have to get some truth in sentencing. We have to get some people on the bench who have some backbone and put these violent offenders away for a long, long period of time and protect society from them." Is it a solution that addresses the specific level of violence currently underway in Edmonton? Inquiring minds still have their heads.
It may well be the reasonable position for Canada's mayors to take, one stated clearly by Edmonton Mayor Stephen Mandel, and joined by others who agree with the position on municipal taxation, which says, more sources of stable funding are needed. Edmonton's mayor is not alone in this argument, but he seems to be the most vocal. Mandel is spokesperson for new taxes within municipalities (and powers of taxation) because times have changed. Cities have become higher concentrations of population and the locations where big infrastructure demands (and costs of various materials like cement) are rising. They need to build railroads and undergound tunnels in cities to move people. Mayors facing these modern funding challenges are wondering how to pay, literally how to cope with this new concentration in fiscal and capital spending demands. Plus, the public is making demands upon all levels for conversions to 'green and environmentally sustainable' practices, and cities will encounter new expenses here too. Right now the mayors are saying they need new money to stay even with development of basic infrastructure, and pay for essential services.
Would you settle for the right to visit once in a while?
OH No! Ides of March time again
FRONTLINE PBS Reviews killing journalists circa 2007
Intelligence services changing, growing
(Jun 11 07) Extraordinary Rendition has gone to trial in Rome with a slew of CIA agents in the docket, enjoying the very thing they deny to untold numbers of the world's 'citizens': a day in court. To introduce the opening day of the trial, CBC's On The Map with Avi Lewis, crammed in several arguments on the topic at 5:30P.M., and, the first guest said, "This (trial) is purely domestic policy in Italy."
Avi interviewed the actual designer of the Extraordinary Rendition program in the US, who called it, the "most successful counterterrorism system the US has ever had." He deigned to admit it is supposed to "compliment" a government-wide counterterrorism program. He believes instead it is being used as the main force. What about mistakes, asks Avi, "War is tough," replied Michael Sheuer, the 'designer.'
Furthermore, especially regarding US culpability in the ER of Maher Arar, "I was never paid to be a citizen of the world and don't feel responsible for it."
At least he has a soft spot for the current religious-schism imposed on lives in Tripoli, Bagdhad, Gaza, Israel, everywhere but downtown Kandahar, and other hot spots, "The US policy on Islam was writ in the middle of the Cold War," and seriously needs an upgrade. Ratner believes the current leadership in US is missing the point of upgrading Middle Eastern policy and may lack the required knowledge to do anything. Ratner of the US Center for Contitutional Justice appeared with Avi Lewis and discussed the sit-rep on Guantanamo Bay. ERs and this prison and the missing justice in the system are becoming an embarrassment to high-minded Americans. Almost daily a new comparison arrives and today they are comparing the Bush administration to the Pinochet regime of Chile, a government famouse for 'disappearing' people.
(Apr 07) When King Abdullah of Saudi Arabia speaks, everybody listens and pretends to like what they hear, except for the details about a new Palestinian solution, much of which remain sketchy. King Abdullah of Saudi Arabia assumed the presidency of the Arab League, including Palestine (AL is based in Egypt, est. 1945 with 7 members) at meetings in Riyahd, Saudi Arabia. The king said, foreign occupation of Iraq must end. He put Palestine at the root of difficulties in the Middle East, and called it a failure of the 23 Arab League states to resolve the issue. He called for a return to the Saudi Arabian proposal of 2002 for Israel to return to the 1967 borders and Arab League states to recognize the State of Israel. Prime Minister Ehud Olmert of Israel called the Saudi king's proposal, "revolutionary change." [A 'thorn in the paw' of resolution to Palestine is the Right of Return for Palestinians exiled from their territories, towns, and villages, however.]
Olmert said Israel could be ready in five years if King Abdullah's efforts at Arab resolution bear fruit. The 'Right of Return' is a problem, East Jerusalem is a problem, and a few other land issues exist. The difference is King Abdullah is an advocate for peace with Israel inside the Arab League, of which he became president this year, and perhaps the king is working on a back-out scenario for the US forces to exit Iraq. Was not the premise of war in Iraq the defense of Saudi Arabia? The king is telling his defenders to go home. That is a back-out scenario via the front door. Ehud Olmert, Prime Minister of Israel, to the Israeli opposition who assassinated his character over agreeing with King Abdullah): "IT WAS JUST A SUGGESTION!", and, to King Abdullah: "Sorry'bout dat." How many Israelis are aware the State of Israel CIRCA ABRAM was originally constituted with the permission of King Saud (King Sodom) in a deal worked out by Melchizedek, Prince of Peace, according to the Pentateuch (first five books of the Holy Bible). Somehow Jews today fail to recognize importance in modern King Abdullah's remarks, nevertheless, ignorance or recalcitrance hardly diminishes importance. As for the secular reasons for the existence of modern Israel, the raison d'etre, could it be, the royal family of Saud asked for the world's best bankers in close proximity to manage the largest amount of money in the world? Oil wealth was forecast from the beginning of the 20th century, including the deposits of Saudi Arabian oil fields, and those who doubt the veracity of my remarks about 'World's Best Bankers,' an instantly established historical record proves banking as we know it exists nowhere in the world without the Rothchilds and Warburgs and a coterie of their relations operating to create central banks in disparate national governments with 'industrial' activities. A number of Scots might take exception, however, it is my opinion and mine alone that Scots are simply Jews who like to fight.
It is important to realize the modern State of Israel was purchased over the course of 150 years. Israelites who created Zionism in the late 1800s began the resconstitution of the Israel of pre-'diaspora' at the end of European ghettoization, which occurred in 1802 to 1840 because of Napolean's social change for Jews. The question is what happened to create unrest around Palestine? Most of the State of Israel was created out of the fair exchange of funds for land, purchases long ago. Some purchases came later, some land came from military activities. But by and large the state arrived at a size by purchase and improvement in the 1800s and first half of the 1900s to be reconsituted as Israel. The problem with Palestinians became a question of critical mass of culture. At some 'tipping' point the Palestinian cities became Israeli cities. Palestinians found themselves unwelcome in familiar cities, a minority opposite the majority. Some left, some were bought out and left, and some were told to leave, because their money won't pay the rent anymore. Palestine Right of Return = nothing. To be honest, Scottish victims of the 'clearances' probably have a stronger legal position regarding rip-offs. Same too for First Nations of Canada especially since a couple of significant court decisions (Delgamuukw). The land sold from under and around the Palestinian people went without a shot being fired, or much argument except the haggling kind, then a state was formed. The Right to VISIT once in a while = State of Palestine.
Feb 22 07 - Amid the doldrums of February the national news media focused on terrorism, especially after Al Quada announced plans to attack Canada. The worldwide terrorist network said it will continue to plan attacks on North America, which is terrible news when it happens.
Fortunately at the same time fighting terrorism within our borders was front and centre with the Canadian government in February, which was good news. Canadians recall when their government entered a state of internal readiness after 9/11 and sent troops to fight the Taliban in Afghanistan. Present headlines are about the local politics of terrorism and election speculation.
Bill C-36 is, "an act to amend the Criminal Code, the Official Secrets Act, the Canada Evidence Act, the Proceeds of Crime (Money Laundering) Act and other Acts, and to enact measures respecting the registration of charities in order to combat terrorism." The Anti-Terrorism Act received Royal Assent Dec. 18, 2001.
Any changes to this federal legislation will impact law enforcement agencies whether or not there are any elections, but the political fireworks are alighting over a specially mandated parliamentary review of the legislation by a subcommittee of the Standing Committee on Justice, Human Rights, Public Safety and Emergency Preparedness.
The government's justice website says, "A Special Committee of the Senate on the Anti-terrorism Act began separate reviews of the ATA in December 2004. Following the 39th General Election of 2006, the Special Senate Committee resumed its review, and a subcommittee of the Standing Committee on Public Safety and National Security undertook a separate review on behalf of the House of Commons."
The ATA will be under review until the end of Mar. 07. The review is raising political tensions because it comes after a few cases of "Extraordinary Rendition" went awry. Furthermore, lawmakers in the Justice Committee argue about "Preventative Arrest," and over the loss of civil liberties in hidden investigative hearings and interviews.
Concerns are about detention without arrest, interviews without lawyers, and preventative arrest, actions permitted to combat terrorists stalking citizens and infrastructure in Canada. Liberal Leader Stephane Dion wants to retire the provisions under review, a position that seems to be shared by the NDP and BQ, since both have opposed the measures since their inception.
Opposition Liberal justice critic Mark Holland, Lib MP, said incidents of extraordinary renditions, which include the expensive detour of Maher Arar to Syria, represent too great an infringement on civil liberties and should be removed from the legislation. (Extraordinary Renditions are essentially internationally organized and government sanctioned kidnapping and torture.)
It was a Liberal government that passed the ATA in 2001, and Hon. Anne McLellan and Rob Rae continue to publicly support the measures. In fact the Federal Justice Minister Hon. Rob Nicholson is arguing to retain Preventative Arrest and Extraordinary Renditions and finds it odd that some of the Loyal Opposition members who passed the law in 2001 cannot defend it under this review in 2007.
How tough is the Canadian government on terrorism is the question widely debated around the world, because other countries have laws against terrorism wither foreign or domestic, and agencies cooperate around the world to track the activities of terrorists. Reports from countries like the U.S. say they would be stressed if Canada dropped its guard against terrorism; apparently the Americans wish for laws permitting extraordinary renditions and preventive arrests to remain in place.
In Question Period, Prime Minister Stephen Harper said, "For the first time in history we have a leader of the opposition who is soft on terrorism. He is refusing to take the advice of Bob Rae, John Manley, Anne McLellan and to back the anti-terrorism provisions that his own government put in place." The Canadian government may fall into an election on the issue of terrorism.
Review of Frontline program "Requiem:" about murdered journalists
FRONTLINE: Requiem - report by Sheila Coronel, an April 07 documentary featured on PBS: "Journalists are the watchdogs on power." She said this in Russia, Anna Politiskaya, known as the 'Transmitter of truth,' until she was shot twice (to death) in her home in Moscow this year, following close coverage of the second round of war in Chechnya. Before free press came to Phillippines nobody knew Imelda Marcos had a double chin. Armenian press is entirely repressed; journalist Hrant Dink (1954-2007) was shot in his downtown office in Armenia's capital city of Yerevan (est 783 BC). In Zimbabwe the press remains 'in thrall' of Robert Mugabwe. Even when a free press comes past the tiresome repetition of propaganda (which eventually wears thin and truth becomes more important than repression) murder of messenger remains a constant result of those who write or speak out against Mugabwe. China has never had a freer press than today. News in China now features government corruption and other social problems, but the power of the state remains arbitrary and journalists must be careful, said the narrator. "Truth and justice rule the drama of human life," wrote Jiang Weiping, to his daughter, just before the Chinese journalist was killed recently in custody after exposing too much corruption in North East China. In Iraq this year journalist Atwar Bahjut 30, a woman with Sunni / Shiite family roots was murdered in the streets of an Iraq city for trying to write about the hopes for reconciliation. Iraqis were beginning to hear what she said, and respect the wisdom of her efforts, then, she was killed and the shooting continued through her funeral. Canadian journalist Zahra Kazemi was killed by the Iranian secret service (they admit) and around the world hundreds are murdered or jailed because of their work. Journalists who exercise the most precious freedom of all, the freedom of expression, pay a very high cost, the program concluded.
Jan 15 07 - Enter intelligence agencies of the world at a recent 'intelligence' conference in Ottawa where major talking points revolved around education, asking, if anybody knew anything about it. Turns out education institutions lack even basic information level courses about professional intelligence services in government. Universities hardly touch the subject anywhere in the world.
These intelligence agencies are fundamental organizations in society, equally esconsced as health departments or any other government services. Intelligence agencies and services have historical foundations, and neither Canada nor the U.S. have but a handful (put together) of post secondary institutions with curriculum about intelligence professions. It is a profession so occult that intelligence professionals come from who knows where and work for who knows what?
Imagine that less than a month ago reports of Maher Arar's calamities zeroed in on failed intelligence that landed him in Syria's torture chambers. Imagine the problem being bought off by an out-of-court settlement of a $400 million lawsuit. Imagine a Commissioner of the redoubtable RCMP losing his job over it. And ask yourself, how much more do you know about intelligence services doing this heavy lifting on your behalf? The answer will be, none. How much more do you want to know? I hear ya.
Some history. Start with intelligence agencies that concern us personally, ones constantly messin' with the world we live in, sometimes affecting the popularity of our passports. These intelligence agencies aren't old (except that spies are old as kings). Intelligence organizations seem to operate outside codes of law and more or less appear with the Industrial Revolution, out of national military organizations.
Big, expensive, national and allied armies require extensive intelligence to move; intelligence agencies are to gather information for respective militaries to operate. If war is the last course of diplomacy, intelligence secretly sets the course. Intelligence agencies possess the values of the societies they serve. Intelligence services can reach depths of evil that few people can understand, like Germany's Gestapo for 15 years (up to and including World War II); current intelligence operations in Iran conducted the wrongful death of Canadian journalist Zahra Kazemi by torture and murder under interrogation.
In the western hemisphere, the CIA grew out of the U.S. Army and US Navy secret services of World War II. Other enduring world class intelligence services include the French Surete, Britain's MI-5 and MI-6, and the Israeli Mossad, (which reminds me of a joke I made up in the 90s, "The bad news is they killed Rabin, the good news is the Jews did it.") Isn't it natural to blame intelligence for assassination? Either they did it, or failed to prevent it. Of course, blame sits well with organizations in the shadows.
Canada actually has a variety of intelligence services, including CED (most secret of all), the RCMP, and CSIS.
Bad guys intelligence services tend to fold up without a trace after periods of horror, including the aforementioned Gestapo, Soviet KGB and NKVD under the Red Army (and Communisim from 1917). The Red Chinese had the Red Guard, an intelligence form of 'community watch' that woke people up city wide at 2 A.M. to make sing-a-longs in praise of Chairman Mao. Anybody found snoozing past the wake-up that included jack boot Red Guards stomping across roof tops and down staircases, through dwellings, was summarily executed for being a sleepy head.
Richard Clarke is the former White House Coordinator of Counter Intelligence, and a U.S. security expert who said Intelligence services suffer a bad image or public relations problem because of three things today: torture, detention, and wire-tapping and surveillance. He said the U.S. doesn't do torture, just submits questions to those who do. Of detention, Clarke said, "Thus came the Military Commissions Act of 2006," creating, "aggressive interrogation and fast prosecution of terrorists." Of surveillance, he said, "It's probably okay except the laws have to be changed to allow it because as it stands it is largely illegal."
Clarke suggested, "Intelligence services have to operate independently under non-political appointees with set terms that overlap the electoral process." He added that more education is required and the agencies need transparent codes of conduct and ethics in the 'intelligence community' with stronger whistle blower provisions for employees.
"Disinformation might be the chief job of an intelligence agency." JAMES ANGLETON, head of CIA counter-intelligence.
"IRD (Information Research Department) in Britain "was composed of carefully chosen writers and journalists, and intelligence operatives. The IRD took part in regular liaison meetings in London between MI6 and the CIA. At its peak (of the Cold War) the IRD had up to 400 staff working at a twelve-storey office block in Millbank, Riverwalk House."
Web dialogue continues: "A typical IRD operation was its "Red Scare in the Indian Ocean" scheme. In March 1974, two IRD articles appeared, one written by MI5/CIA agent Brian Crozier in The Times and the other by David Floyd in the Daily Telegraph. Both concentrated on the fear of a build-up by the Soviet Navy in the Indian Ocean after the Somali government offered the Soviets a naval base near the Gulf, and described a build-up of Soviet advisers in neighbouring countries. A further article appeared in the Financial Times, followed by the release of spy satellite photos from the U.S. State Department." By the time the campaign had run its course, a carefully-created illusion had been created that Somalia was a Soviet puppet. (Ironically, this "Soviet puppet" actually kicked out all Russian military advisers in 1977 during its war with Ethiopia).
The dialogue says: "Malcolm Muggeridge was acting as an MI5 agent while editorial writer of the Daily Telegraph. Alan Pryce-Jones, editor of the Times Literary Supplement, worked in British intelligence during the war. The Daily Telegraph's Foreign Editor, S.R. Pawley, was recruited by MI6 to help run journalist agents for the paper overseas. "They were not employed directly by us, but we regarded them as agents because they were happy to be associated with us."
"There should be times when the journalist, when he's examined all the facts and tested all his sources, should come down on the side of the government of the day, the established order and the Establishment as a whole." - Chairman of the Radio Authority.
In the 1984 miners' strike, the newspapers' labour correspondents "were basically our enemies' front-line troops." Terry Pattinson, the main journalist behind the Daily Mirror's campaign against Arthur Scargill during the strike, later admitted that he had been approached by MI5 to work for them.
"Disinformation might be the chief job of an intelligence agency." JAMES ANGLETON, head of CIA counter-intelligence
Between freaks like Britain's Brian Crozier and USA's James Angleton there was enough paranoia in power in democracy to slake Stalins thirst for dirty deeds, and they would do it through private means for the public interest.
In the era of President Ronald Reagan the Private Sector Operational Intelligence service was formed, and was to be 'fed' information by government intelligence services because certain areas of operation were untouchable by governments (of democracies?, because frankly totalitarians do what they want, and need no 'covert' activity for what they want done, they do it overtly.) The private companies launched by Reagan's edict in the 1980s are charged with stopping subversion before it gets too subversive.
"The Government must promote its own cause and undermine that of the enemy by.... a carefully planned and co-ordinated campaign of psychological operations. There is of course an element of truth in the idea that an effective domestic intelligence system could be used to jeopardise the freedom of the individual. Under an authoritarian regime, freedom of the individual is not particularly relevant." - Brigadier FRANK KITSON (the architect of covert death squads in Northern Ireland)
Donald Neil McColl was four months from his 18th birthday when he left Edmonton, Alberta, to join the warring Canadian Navy, in April 1944, bound by train for the Cornwallis Naval Training Base, Fort Anne, Nova Scotia. As he recounted to me exclusively a latter year of his life, "I went into basic training and gunnery school in Cornwallis," a wartime base of 15,000 men, where, "We used to come out of the gate every morning, and half would point up the highway and half would point down, our morning run." The base was newly constructed at a cost of $15,000,000, the largest 'new entry' naval base in the British Commonwealth. Training consisted of, "Boat-pulling, seamanship, knots and splices, drill and deportment, weapons handling, personal fitness training, self-defense, and many other skills required for the recruits for war," according Cornwallis Reunion site www.cornwallisreunion.ca
"After eight weeks we transferred to Stadacona Two, in Halifax," and waited there for the draft, and, "I was drafted to somewhere in Quebec." This was too much, said he, "I went to see the Assignment Officer. I explained that I had an non-substantive rating of AA3 therefore I should not be treated as a bare-assed Ordinary Seaman." Whatever, his blunt argument was enough, "The AO agreed, and apologized, and took me off that draft," and put another Ordinary Seaman on it. "And then I was drafted to the HMCS UGANDA along with fellow Edmontonian Harold Guthrie and a bunch of other guys we had joined up with. We got an 'overseas leave'," which involved a train ride home for two weeks to be spent uneventfully in Edmonton. Dad turned 18 when he got back to Halifax, "It took a little while for us to get going, put the draft together and then we all got on our way." They took the train from Halifax to destination Charleston, South.Carolina. "We changed trains in Boston. Then we went to New York City. Our entire draft was contained in a cage below the stairwells in Grand Central Station because we weren't trusted by Canadian Naval Officers," after the blow out in Boston, "We were spit on by New Yorkers as though we were enemy troops." They arrived in Charleston, South Carolina, where Dad instantly acquired tastes that endured for the rest of his life. "It was my introduction to honeydew melons and iced tea. We got to Charleston and learned the composition of the HMCS UGANDA's crew. It was made of three groups: one-third were new entries," like himself, "one-third were Officers formerly manning British Cruisers as trainees, and one-third were 'cells'," a slang term of the day for reprobates the navy dragged out of prison cells in Canada.
Dad remembered how the new assignment looked when the Ordinary Seaman arrived to the HMCS UGANDA, "Oh god! when she first came in to Charleston she had been hit real bad. By the time I got there, they were still digging the bodies out of the vessel." The Manitoba Naval Museum website says, "UGANDA was commissioned by the Royal Navy on December 17th, 1942 as HMS UGANDA. While serving in the Mediterranean Sea she took a direct hit from a three thousand pound glider-bomb off Salerno, Italy. There was no dry dock available that could handle her. She proceeded across the Atlantic Ocean with only one of her four propellors working. She went to the U.S. Navy yard at Charleston, South Carolina, where for some months she came under repairs." Source: www.naval-museum.mb.ca
"I met up with a black man," Dad said, "who worked in the shipyard. He was from NewYork City. He came down to visit his mother and was pressed into service in the shipyard before he could get back on the train. And he hated it." My Dad was introduced to segregation, "I found it particularly shocking but I'm sure others felt the same way." He wandered around the shipyard, "I talked to an older guy from the US Navy. He told me that everybody who was in the navy was a hero, and I replied, 'Ah bullshit.' I joined up because I wanted to join up, but not to be a hero." Amercian sensibilities were making no sense to this youthful Canadian prairie teen.
"Anyhow, we learned that Captain Rollo Mainguy was our skipper. Admiral Hugh Francis Pullen was our Commander. We had got word Lieutenant William Landymore, who later became Admiral Landymore, was gunnery officer. Landymore was distinguished by his attempt to do a hand-stand on a plate of glass in the wardroom where he goddamned near sliced off his hand. We lived in the American barracks at first and then moved onboard ship as repairs progressed. Sometime before Oct 31, 1944 we rode out a hurricane in the mouth of the Charleston River. Captain Rollo Mainguy took charge of the vessel during the hurricane and we weathered out the storm pretty reasonably, throwing out anchors fore and aft and handling it in that way. The crew were real good at it. He described the officer corp of the ship, "We had a lot of experienced seamen onboard and they seemed to be able to cope with anything. They came from such ships as the HMS Belfast, HMS Glasgow, HMS Jamaica, and other ships. They really knew their stuff. They were good seamen. I felt the hurricane was a bit of a test for the entire crew. We learned about how she stood up in bad weather. She was in pretty good shape then. (On Oct 21, 1944) we were commissioned as apart of the Royal Canadian Navy."
[The Manitoba Naval Museum site describes the UGANDA: "She was 555 feet in length, with the beam of 62 feet and displacement of 8800 tons. She had 9 six-inch guns neatly housed within three totally enclosed and heavily armored turrets. She also had eight 4-inch guns mounted in pairs, eight 40 mm Bofors AA guns mounted in two sets of four, two-pounder AA guns (pom-pom), and a number of twin and single-barrelled 20 mm AA guns. Two mountings carrying three torpedos each were located on each side of the ship. UGANDA had four 3-drum Admiralty type boilers that generated 400 pounds per square inch of super heated steam. This powered the Parson turbines developing a total of 72,500 shaft horsepower that drove the ships four propellors. Uganda had steam turbines driving her electrical generators, with a diesel driven back-up for emergencies. Her compound evaporators, located in the engine room, produced approximately 66 tons of fresh water daily. The RCN had to have some nine hundred and seven officers and men trained to man her. They did this by sending personnel to the Royal Navy to train on their cruisers.]
The men came from every province in Canada, including Newfoundland," which was a British Colony in those days. HMCS UGANDA sailed into a mission that was secret to the crew. It began by sailing to Halifax Harbour. "Looking down from the back of the bridge, I spotted a corvette," and grew rubbery legs watching it bob on the ocean. "I don't know how that guy got up the stick (crow's nest). There was a man on the foremast and he was in a lookout position right on top of the stick. I wondered how the hell he got up there." Corvettes were small ships compared to the largest Man 'O War in the Canadian fleet. He saw a number of frigates and corvettes in Halifax.
A week later the highly specialized radar installation was done, "I was returned from London and we departed for Rosyth (Scotland), under the Firth of Forth Bridge and fairly close to Edinburgh," past the giant Royal Navy shipyard. "From there we went to Scapa Flow and spent Christmas in Scapa Flow. We were with the British North Atlantic fleet. We did our work-ups." Work'ups was British for manouevers and test firing. Scapa Flow is north of Scotland, "That was the one and only time I was ever sick at sea." Interesting to note that he puked on the waters plied by his Hebrides ancestors. "Puked in a bucket and that was it. It was all over."
The Work Up was a British Navy exercise to get a crew settled in the ship. "What you do is give your ship's company a rundown of what your going to tackle. We were an independent vessel on our way to join the British Pacific fleet." The crew lived in a rumour mill, "We suspected we were going to the tropics but we didn't know for sure, and of course the old man wouldn't tell us what we were doing because of the secrecy that the whole mission was kept under." In fact the UGANDA was assigned a leading role in the forthcoming Pacific battle because she had the most advanced radar systems available. They went from Scapa Flow to Clyde Yards where the ship was built. We pulled out New Years Day and got to Gibraltar a day or so later, smooth sailing all the way." They passed through Gibraltar and went to Malta. And though a lot of Canadians were in Malta, "including a cousin of mine," they were confined to the ship for two days. The ship sailed to Alexandra, Egypt.
"By this time I was on #11 punishment. You do painting and stuff on your spare time. While other guys are laying down you're busy working and if they don't use you on that one they use you on different one. You might be loading the loader, loading shells. That's another #11 duty. You maybe get seven days but they manage to stretch it out so that you get many more days. It was grossly unfair." The reality of wartime naval duty was beginning to sink in and the ship's crew was becoming tense. "All the pressure came from the top because we were in a hurry, and the oldman wanted us to get on with our workups.The size of the crew made it difficult to know who was Officer of the Watch. One time the old man ('Von' Pullen) put me on a sailing crew of a whaler. In Alexandra, I had to go around the harbour with the crew of the 'whaler', and the 'old man' sat in the back to steer the bugger. There were two whaler boats and three motorboats. These were the standard British Navy Whale boat used to train men for seamanship. They're trying to make seaman out of you. You put in the mast and put up the sail and use a drop keel on it. It was a lot of fun. It was an open-sided boat with two sails. It would go pretty quick."
In the city of Alexandra, Egypt, under British aegis, they enjoyed Canadian beer in a mess tent, "Molson's Ale. Anyhow, we did our workups along the North African coast for about a month, the rest of January. It was very quiet in the north coast (of Africa) at that time. It seemed like we had it all to ourselves. Then we took off and were the first Canadian Man-O-War to pass through the Suez Canal. We went through the Red Sea and didn't stop in Adan or any of those places. Adan is the primary port in the Red Sea on the Saudi Arabian side, and we didn't stop there, but went straight on to Columbo, Ceylon, now Sri Lanka." The Cruiser Class Vessel continued across the seven seas. "By this time my #11 punishment was finished. We were one day in Colombo and I went ashore and bought a diamond. I got back to the ship and showed it to the guys, put it on the floor to demonstrate and stepped on it with a coin. It came out powder. We took off to Perth-Freemantle." She sailed ever closer to the mission.
"On the trip (across the Indian Ocean) we saw a water-spout, which the old man gave a wide berth. It was sucking water up into clouds, a real weather phenomenon." Sailing through the sub-tropics the weather was otherwise fine. "All the guys 40 and over chose this time to get out on deck and soak up the sun. You were punished if you got a sunburn. Sailors are expected not to administer punishment to yourself and sunburn was considered self-administered punishment. Perth-Freemantle was interesting, two cities across the harbour from each other. They are fairly large cities by Australian standards. There were 50 US Navy submarines tied up resting between patrols. It was a major stopping point for the (US Navy), particularly their submarine service. We were the only Canadian ship they had ever seen. We were about a day or two in Perth-Freemantle. We pulled out to go around the south coast of Australia toward Sydney. We got caught in the trough that night." Treacherous oceans waited off the Great Australian Bight, the south coast of the continent. "We got stuck in 'the trough' for twelve hours. I came down to get cocoa for the look-out crew at 2 A.M., and there was (a crew member) sprawled on the oerlikon debating whether to go over the side and end it all. I advised him against that course of action and put him to sleep in the ammo locker." The crew agreed that Captain Mainguy could sail a ship through anything at this point. They went to Sydney and Dad got trained in spotting aircraft from the Japanese side. His youthful eyes had a tremendous value in the ensuing conflict, which already had reports of strange occurrances of Japanese planes flying directly and seemingly on purpose into Allied fleets, especially aircraft carriers.
At the bombardment of Truk, "The big ships were outboard of us firing over top and we could hear those big 15 inch shells passing over our heads. We had a bunch of Hawker Hurricanes flying around, and they had rockets, and one of those rockets was the equivalent of a shell from a naval bombardment. It went on from mid-day till dark. I thought they must be getting ready to invade or land troops or some goddamned thing. That's where I saw my first rockets from aircraft. They would go in and hammer the poor Jap sons of bitches. Ferry Swordfish carried the rockets, as did Hawker Hurricanes. We had four aircraft carriers in our fleet. There was no retaliatory fire from Truk, the Japs hunkered down and stayed out of sight. Truk was a fairly small island. We could see the whole island easily enough. We had no trouble hitting them although they went underground." Truk was minor a pit-stop to sharpen the aim. If there were any Japanese soldiers left on Truk they wouldn't be surrendering till the 1960s. The conflict was un abated everywhere in the Pacific, a virtually unchained conflict that would ultimately draw the HMCS UGANDA into the largest land/sea/air battle in history, the Battle of Okinawa.
"That evening we pulled out of Truk and headed up to the Leyte Gulf on the east side of the Philippines. It was the site of large Allied shipping traffic to Hawaii. We gathered in Leyte Gulf as a fleet for two days, and left for the Ryukyu Islands, south and west of Okinawa," a part of Formosa at the time, now Taiwan. Dad with his sharp blue 18 year old eyes stood with Commander Von Pullen and Captain Mainguy on the Bridge. They sailed into chaos and nmayhem, and largest naval contingient in history was locked in battle for 70 days. Dad was too young to 'man the guns', but those excellent eyes were trained to spot aircraft, and spot they did, in horrifying waves, and countless numbers aircraft came, while he 'spotted' them close enought to see the "whites of their eyes," the pilots of those kamikazi attack airplanes.
The Battle of Okinawa lasted from April 1 to June 21, 1945. In April 1945 the UGANDA sailed in, "Our role (was) to cover the back end of the American strikes on Okinawa. We were off the Ryukyu Islands in April 1945. He still recalled th first one,"was just a loner. We had been going on-watch during the day everyday. You know, the bugle would go and you start dragging your ass up and one day the bastards were there. We dragged our asses up a little too slow. There was one aircraft right over ahead of us, and another off over the other side of the fleet. The next couple of days they really hit us hard. There was a lull from the first battle to the second one. I think they must have used that time to gather their guys together. Then they sent them out and the Formidable got hit by two. The Victorious was just ahead of us. One came down our starboard side. I was looking right at the sonofabitch and, uh, I think our guys hit him pretty good because he never made it to the Victorious. He slammed into the HMS Howe, which was one of the Battleships, and she got hit in one of her turrets. Formidable got hit by two aircraft during this battle. We could see them real clear because they weren't that far away from us. They were jamming aircraft off their flight deck into the water, those that were burning. The next day the Formidable came along side us and we slid some steel plates over for them to repair their deck. They had a painting crew already doing her island, and within two days we were back in action."
Events such as this have no real beginning or end, once it starts, it is on, "We used to fuel up for two days then cruise for two days. I think we used to drop back somewhere to fuel up, because we were never bothered when we were fueling. It went for weeks, two days in, and two days out, for about 30 days engaged directly in battle. That was the first stint up at the Ryukyus. Later we returned to Leyte Gulf when we heard the war in Europe was finished." Victory in Europe was declared May 28, 1945. "We heard rumours about a riot in Halifax by navy personnel. They were kicking the shit out of the town because they had been abused from the time the war started. But the real shocker came one evening while we watched a movie out on the boat deck. A bunch of lower ranks refused to yield to Chiefs and Petty Officers, and later the higher Officers, to the point where we almost had a mutiny. It was over this goddamned bullshit in Halifax. The guys just went crazy."
Preferred seating was reserved for Officers, Chiefs and Petty Officers. "It was resolved by Officers deciding not to go to the movie. After that hell-raising we went up to cover the backside of Okinawa." The only Canadian Man ‘o War in the Pacific Theatre in World War II, "eventually joined the US Navy Task Force off the coast of Japan. I could see the USS Missouri on the horizon but there was no serious incidents on that occasion. It was at this time that they were going to hold the vote on whether to stay or not." The vote on-board was brought about by the victory in Europe that occurred end of May, 1945, which entitled Canadians in all services, and theatres, including the Pacific theatre, to a vote on whether to stay or quit the service. It was unusual though minor controversy because atomic bombs had not yet been dropped but Japan was looking surrounded and although undefeated rumours abounded about an impending gigantic bomb. "And of course the guys who had been in the navy for four to five years wanted to go home. You ask them if they want to go home they say goddamned right I do. I was not very successful in convincing anybody to stay who was older than me. The election took place while we were with the American Task Force, 96 miles from Tokyo, and 60 some odd miles from the Japanese coast, July 27, 1945.
"The vote was 800 to quit and 121 to stay. I think I was the only guy in my mess (of 16 men) who wanted to stay." It was a somewhat curious end to the war for the UGANDA, but the wartime mission of the HMCS UGANDA was executed according to plan, and Don McColl ended his recollection of battle with the war wrapping up if not actually over until they were nearly back at Esquimalt, British Columbia. He went on a drinking binge to repress Post Traumatic Stress Disorder after bearing this close witness to carnage that few have ever seen. Always the upstanding Canadian citizen, a few years later he raised a family, among them, me.
So, who was I to be stealing my Dad's Volkswagon beetle at age 14? It might have had something to do with Dad allowing me to be the driver outside of Edmonton from the time I was 12 years old. On any given weekend I was pulling a tent trailer down the highway past Edson, into the Coal Branch, all the way past Robb, sometimes as far as Cadomin, well into the night. Or I was cruising the sideroads scouting the ditches and stopping on command. Why did he encourage such adult activities? Probably because by age 9 and 10 I figured prominently in the deep forests beside bear, cougar, wolverine ruled rivers, while he wandered hundreds of yards ahead of me, fishing. Most of the day wha I ever saw of Dad was a waving Browning flyrod. He would hand me a 'lit' cigarillo "to keep the bugs off," and say, "Try to stay close. I'll carry you across when we have to." And it was goodbye.
I recall a few episodes spent in mortification each summer before adjusting. It was probably cigar smoke that kept wildlife at bay but I didn't know this. I knew terror whenever that highly prized and incredibly expensive fishing rod disappeared. I remember screaming and scrambling teary eyed to see around corners on rivers where sometimes he would be waiting, amused, but soon he he would be pissed off and hand me another cigar. The scared act grew old with my father real quick. I realize we all had our own harrowing life and death experiences. I hope these will accept my discussions about my perspectives of what happened to me, essentially, while they were elsewhere.
It was another of those departures from reality that have been so pervasive in my life Yes, in the spring of 1969 I committed theft, so to speak, of my father's Volkswagon. I was 14 in Spring of 1969 and had my learner's permit, drove better than AJ Foyt, and never, ever, panicked behind the wheel of a car. Hey, that 'bad things do happen to good people' is how I go on living. The parents God bless them who were only half-mad at this stage of their lives, planned a weekend getaway, while I planned one of my own, coursing through back lanes over to Tookes Grocery to buy cokes, and home again.
Remember a trip to Tookes would be about a 2 minute wind sprint from our house. Instead, the minute the parents departed, I was out front of the house, pushing the Volkswagon backwards with Brian Collins toward the crescent. From there we pushed into the back lane. It was an impressive show, us boys, behaving so responsibly with this car, you know, being that it was illegal for us to be near it except to look, OR PUSH. The biggest hitch was Susan Smith, who despite wearing the thickest glasses I ever saw had the sharpest eyes YOU ever saw. And if I had the Jacksons and Wilsons as counter vailing witnesses, it would baffle the Smith's argument., should the need arise.
We got around the back with this immobile Volkswagon which suddenly sprang to life with my magic key, recently cut at my new friends store, Lynnwood Hardware. Vance Storie was only too happy to cut me a car key, don't ask me why, oh, because I would sprint down the street and buy him a Sprite. I drove the mint-condition, pearl white Volkswagon, finally showing off the motoring skills to someone other than my father. I promised Brian Collins I would teach him to drive the car, and that I would be right back. I jumped out of the driver's seat and ran across 149 street to Tookes. When I came out of the store a few seconds later with my coke in hand, the car sat steaming with the backend wrapped around a bumper in front of the house that Johnny Bienvenue used to live in, a house I rented from my sister last year.
Later that summer confirmed in my mind that he was a dangerous idiot. That was a bike trip, which ensued because I wasn't growing fast enough to suit my father, and having a bad year in other ways, but, mostly, it felt as if I wasn't growing fast enough. Especially when he came up with a hair-brained scheme for me to ride a bike from Edmonton to the Okanagan in the summer of 1969 to 'build up muscle.' It was frustrating to live by onerous external benchmarks deemed so important, and reach for benchmarks that sometimes flew in the face of reality. Instead I composed a different plan that included shipping my 10-speed bike to the Okanagan and riding around there. I was able to arrange a rendezvous with Brian Collins to make him pay. They had moved to Vancouver but he still promised to do something about my wretched situation.
And off I went, and this I did. I went to Kelowna, picked up the bike at the Greyhound (which I rode from Edmonton), and biked past little villages like Peachland and Summerland on my way to meet Brian Collins. On the way to meet the 'generous' Collins family who had rented a cabin beside Lake Okanagan I found a wallet on the side of the highway. I dusted it off and stashed it in my pack after extracting the 28 dollars. Collins wouldn't pay up, and his father rejected the notion that Brian had any blame at all. I was the car thief. Despite this, I was invited to stay for a few days with the 'generous' Collins family, which I was prepared to do with various degrees of satisfaction. I showed Brian the wallet I found. It was empty of money but he commented that 'it seemed pretty heavy.'
I was okay there for a few days, but soon felt like a bump on a log hanging around with this family trying to be together, and me the wretched character to begin with. I kept looking at this bike of mine with full pack and camping regalia. So I rode off into the wilderness, (back to Kelowna) and had this extra 28 dollars so I went to a fishing store and bought an unbelievable bone-handled knife, HIGH END, opened as neatly as a switch blade. I would be cleaning my fish in style. They should appreciate it. By absolute fluke standing on the street beside my bike in the setting summer sun of Kelowna, a balmy evening to say the least, a guy my age, 14, who I knew faintly from Edmonton, rode by on a Honda 125, recognized me, and I him, and he spun over to say hello. Then he said to come and stay at his brother-in-law's house in Kelowna.
I gladly accepted.
After finding this homey situation to my liking I showed the friend (previously, acquaintence) this empty but heavy wallet. He flipped open a hidden compartment and there sat $480 Canadian dollars, belonging to a woman from Washington State whose ID said she had First Nation heritage. We sat on the bed in this upstairs room of a clapboard house in downtown Kelowna, staggered by the sum of money in our grasp. "Dd we buy a boat? How about a car?" A new bike would be nice, except I was really hating bicycles at the moment. It took a 30 minute consultation to decide to return $400 and I would keep $80, plus the knife already purchased. The RCMP arrived a few minutes later and took the wallet.
I stayed a day or two more, nothing happening. Despite sudden reputation, my idea of being a nuisance in those days was lighting bags on fire filled with shit and ringing the doorbell, if you know what I mean, and that is neighbourhood stuff. So I had nothing to do here and rode away on my bike up the highway to Vernon. It wasn't that far. A day later I phoned my Dad and had a chillingly incipid conversation, which had become the only kind allowed since I destroyed his car and lied to his face about who did what, when, and then I got teary-eyed on the phone with my Mom. I am sure the whining was crocodile tears, considering the luck so far, but you reserve the right to that behaviour with Mom. I made arrangements to meet my Dad and Derek in Hinton, Alberta, the following Friday afternoon and we would go camping in the Coal Branch south of Hinton for the weekend. Of course I had to get there in time or they would be gone. I was less than totally concerned about it as I stood in Vernon contemplating Thursday. I needed to be in Jasper by then to ride mostly downhill 50 miles to Hinton. The trouble started when I decided to exercise a peculiar independent streak involving nothing but the pack on my back. I said, to hell with the bus. I am going to hitch-hike. I shipped my bike by Greyhound to Jasper and held onto the tent and sleeping bag and some light gear.
I stuck out my thumb on the highway leaving Vernon, to the north, and instantly received a ride from a guy with a camper. It was later in the evening and I was anxious to the point of stupidity to keep pushing to Salmon Arm, but this trip thus far had been nothing short of a spectacular success, anyone would agree. The truck and camper driver was mid 30s or early 40s, immediately striking for his torpedo-shaped build and short hair, tattoos on his forearms something like my dad's (a former Canadian Navy man). We started rolling down the highway from Vernon toward Salmon Arm, for I accepted the ride based on an unequivocal agreement to travel straight to Salmon Arm, immediately. "We have to go straight there," because it is nighttime and I don't want to get stuck out with the bears and, besides, would not have left Vernon unless the ride was bound for Salmon Arm. It just wasn't that far. The truck got about 20 miles out of town into the deep darkness of night when the driver veered to the left and stopped on a pull-out from the highway. He faced the wrong way in relation to the highway, and overlooked a rather steep bluff to the left, and a mountainface to the right. It presented a precarious place, to be honest, and I asked, "What are you doing?"
"Stopping right here, for the night."
My heart leapt into my throat. I grabbed my gear, and said, "See ya." It was too much trouble to argue, I knew that much. He told me he was ex-US Navy, thus the tattoos, and I knew those bastards were in a war at the time, called the Vietnam War. I felt discomfort but wasn't terribly scared. I was miffed beyond belief actually. Steaming mad. He didn't argue, "Good night, and good luck hitching," was said quite politely. Yeah, right, and have a nice night yourself. I crossed the dark highway and trudged about 150 yards north and looked for cars to come, and watched a light in the camper glowing, and no cars coming. It was summer, a week night, and, frankly, the Okanagan was far from the destination it is today. No cars came, an hour passed, and a rare one or two that bypassed me standing there, forlornly. I had to get to Jasper, I had to persist. No cars came. A light continued to glow in the camper. One or two more cars passed, and an hour, at altitude, with a chill in the air that persisted, and I was skinny to begin with, so I cracked and went back to the camper. I knocked, and the sailor asked me in for coffee, which was waiting. And chat ensued, small talk, and quickly sleeping bags were laid out; I queried why the same bunk. I was soon laying on my sleeping bag, fully clothed, and he was laying on his between me and the door. He suddenly showed outright arousal. And I said, hmmm, no sir, mine ain' t that big, not yet.
"Well if it ain't that big yet it's never gonna be. Let's see it," the sailor demanded. I replied, "I want to have another drink of that coffee first, partner," and leaped over the man's erection and made it to the bench with my coat and my back to the door. I fingered a coffee cup, and brandished the knife, and described without guile how lucky I was the past few days, and showed him how this pig sticker opens like a switch blade, SNAP. His erection disappeared, but the night was far from over. The Puma knife saved my life, even though I never waved it at him as a threat. I did, however, ask him if he minded that I would need my sleeping bag because I ought to and want to head back into the night. Yep, that's what I'm gonna do. Seconds later, having backed out the door with what I had grabbed of my stuff, I stood on the gravel behind the vehicle and the sleeping bag came sailing out the door. It slammed shut, and I sighed a huge sigh of relief.
I reassembled my gear and stood across the street from the truck. I hoped he would depart, but he didn't. I stood on the side of the highway steaming mad and terrified at the same time, wondering if he was going to pursue it any further. I thought he had given up at the sight of the beautiful knife. But I wasn't sure he didn't have a gun or something bigger than my knife. I was far from sanguine under the circumstances . . .I was white as a ghost, sick to my stomach, and mortified for my life's sake. I didn't think running down the highway would help, he would run me over. I didn't think anything was going to help me at all, except the merciful delivery of an automobile, INSTANTLY, NO, SOONER!
A truck came roaring around the corner of the highway from the south . . . .Sure it was swerving a bit, and inordinately loud. The cab was full, like over-full. It was piloted by some of the local yokels, Shuswap to be exact. Four drunk adults occupied the cabin of the pick-up truck that stopped about 50 feet up the highway, belching and smoking, empties flying out the window into the ditch. I sprinted with my gear and climbed aboard the back that had about 6 more people of various descriptions, including Hippies and others. I jumped in the back as the vehicle torqued out and I looked up at the stars in the sky and didn't care about the weirdness of this strange circumstance. I asked who was who, and nobody really knew anybody else in the back of the truck. I was no longer cold, that is for sure.
Further down the highway, at a town like Enderby or Armstrong perhaps, the riders in back of truck emptied, and they invited my illustrious presence into the cabin of the truck, and handed me a beer. About five minutes later the driver did a fourwheel brakestand and parked on the highway arguing with his cousins about whether to go back and ram the sailor over the cliff. I remember arms reaching over and preventing the driver from turning the truck. I got to Salmon Arm an hour later, and took a bus in the morning to Jasper. I rode my bike from Jasper to Hinton on Friday morning and met Dad and Derek at the ViewPoint looking at the pulp and paper mill in Hinton. I told him nothing about the trip. I was drinking beer with Indians, Dad, after nearly dying at the hands of something with which I was totally unfamiliar. I lost the special knife that weekend somewhere on the McLeod River. I will never forget it, the origins of it, a lost wallet belonging to a First Nation woman, and the Shuswap gentlemen who extricated me from a terribly sticky situation.
I really had no idea what I was doing. Oh right, I was being systematically destroyed at playing CHESS of all things, or did that come a year or two later? I am sure it did, but I remember repeated 'tiny' rages over losing to him, before I saw Vancouver, which was age 10. Despite all the preconceptions and so forth.. . the idea that I act out of rebellion or think myself a tough-guy is patently absurd from my perspective. Thinking and in fact praying your way to survival in hardly a rebellious stance. In 10 years of competitive hockey I never once dropped the gloves to fight. Frankly, I hate confrontations like fighting. I eschew violence. I certainly have had my share of fights and violence has found me in endless confrontations, but I don't like it and don't think those acts of belligerence upon me are entirely my fault. One funny conflict occurred when I was 15 years olf in grade 10. I told you once I fell way behind in Math 10, a year long course that landed number 8 on my schedule of 40 minute classes. In other words, every day, for about six months, I arrived at Math 10 with Mr. Aaserud and promptly fell asleep.
This was good for my relative mental health, napping and so on, but my mark fell to a laughable 15 percent by the third of four report cards. My father couldn't believe his eyes when he saw I had a total of about 4 or 5 absences. He made it a vocal point of order, almost parliamentary in its insult, that I had attended every class and reported 15 percent. He made me feel like I was so stupid that honestly he thought he was going to lose his mind sitting in that bone hard Vilas dining room table chair, the armchair. My father was not one to spit up food, but froth was something else, and that I saw the evening of the third report card. Of course I told you we had detente, and I was full of the same degree of hate as he was, but hey, I brought that Math 10 mark back to 49 or 50 percent. I passed and need not to repeat nor did I require further math for matriculation, which was the singular concern, besides the fact that I was clearly retarded. I passed. Even before I turned 16 I began to wreak havoc on his Volkswagon. Of an ensuing six crashes that I had with my father's Volkswagen, (unlike Brian Collins) I never rendered it undrivable. At one point it had six different smashes on it, and he asked me, one morning, after the last one, "How the fuck am I supposed to drive that to work?"
I replied, "It still runs."
Apr 1 07 - Organ transplantation requires world wide ethical guidelines and the World Health Organization is striking a committee to deal with the issue of a growing number of organ transplants from 'transplant tourism'. WHO says up to 10 percent of the current number of transplants may be commercial transactions involving cash-poor organ 'sellers' giving up a kidney for money. Later may come things like 1/2 livers and lungs; cadavers are failing to provide the number of human organs in demand for transplant.
Ever heard of organ donation for money? Ever heard about organ swapping (not organ stealing)? The focus on organs comes now that transplantation can be assured success by the use of anti-rejection drugs. The need for the drugs remains ongoing for the rest of the recipient's life.
Organs have value and it's not just an urban myth. What if the organization around organ use took a different ethical directions? Could organ harvesting grow into a thriving business?
Organ Swap Inc. is a non-profit corporation helping organ transplant candidates identify potential recipient-donor pairs that may be suitable for a Paired Kidney Exchange.
The organization is answering the question of why not organ swapping? Thousands of people await a kidney and cadaver kidneys are not available to satisfy transplant needs. The organ-ization calls for alternatives to fulfill transplants. "Paired Kidney Exchange program is one such alternative program."
Paired kidney exchange recommended: Published 4/19/2005 7:59 PM on United Press International Ethics of a Paired-Kidney-Exchange Program. Ross LF, Rubin DT, Siegler M, Josephson MA, Thistlethwaite JR Jr, Woodle ES. N Engl J Med 1997 Jun 12;336(24):1752-5.
"We went ashore for a day's leave," at the little Canadian city on the east coast that started around a Privateers Wharf (govament sanctioned piracy) Immediately they sailed next for Newcastle-on-Tyne, "We took off alone for about five days. We had no encounters, never saw anything." The ship sailed the Allied controlled North Atlantic, and arrived, "to have radar put on board our ship at that time." The Ordinary Seaman recalled that Commander Pullen had a way of making things tough, perhaps because of the curious mix of the new crew. "We nicknamed him 'Von' Pullen, he gave out so many orders." Uttering a rubric outloud of your commander could be extremely foolish with Germans a current and mortal enemy. "One particularly galling order permitted leave only to those who had families in Britain! They were allowed to go ashore. Then Von Pullen changed his mind and we were all given a week's liberty."
I felt like puking, of course. I didn't catch my breath for several minutes. Faint hope lay in the vehicle Brian backed into, an unscratched full bumper on an International Harvester pickup truck. I swam in a terrible chasm and went deeper with each push of the destructed vehicle down gravel lanes to the parent's garage, but I probably wasn't going to prison. Brian helped push. The relationship with my father went off the rails at that moment, and it never went down the tracks again. I began hating him and he me with a rancour that only the most vile enemies would reserve for each other. He never believed another word I said, and I stopped telling him anything, sick of throwing pearls to swine.
(Updated Jun 04 07 Originally writ '06) A peculiar announcement in western Europe about a television show that was throwing kidney donation into a competition on the scale of Amazing Race or something. It was a hoax, said the television station later, to draw attention to organ donation mores and taboos in society.
