Code Pink Journals CodePINK Journals

Work 4 Peace,Hold All Life Sacred,Eliminate Violence! For now, I’ve returned from my Joiyssey to participate in the "revolution":I’ve been at many Occupy sites across the country:1st in D.C. Freedom Plaza I faced & challenged racism/white supremacy, sexism/patriarchy, classism, heterosexism & eventually was kicked off the island; then I offered workshops as I drove to CA:“Anti-Racism Geared for White Occupiers”; “NO DRONES” "Successes and Pitfalls of OWS"

Friday, December 09, 2011

Slave cylinder - to be continued

I reluctantly leave Occupy Jackson, but I need to go to the library and find some veggie oil, as Duke from Shreveport is not answering my calls... grrrrrr

I pull into the library parking lot just 2 blocks away from the park, but free parking, and suddenly 3 feet from the top of the parking space, the clutch hits the floor and wouldn't move.

I crawl under the truck, spot a leak, and see an accordion-cup with a metal stick in the middle kind of hanging out and leaking.

I try to stick it back into the place it obviously came out of and can't. I push the truck the last couple of feet into the parking space so I'm not hanging over the edge. I young man hops out of his car and helps me. He is not a mechanic unfortunately and doesn't know of any.

I return to the park and ask the guys there. Sweet Derrick offers to walk me to a couple of mechanic places he knows about.

Occupy Jackson! to be continued..

I pull into Jackson and immediately I see the poverty and the wealth. Poor, mostly Black people walking around with shredded shoes, bundles of unidentifiable material draped around their bodies, hurrying along in the damp cold.

And huge SUV's and several hummers, with mostly white women in fur-lined wool coats holding the hands of well-dressed children tumbling out to go to the church on the corner.

I see the beautiful little park with the blue tarps, a tent, plastic bins lined up, and cardboard signs hanging from trees, bushes, and the stone wall.

There is a table out front, on the sidewalk, but the people are several feet away, inside the park under a largish stone pavilion.

I am so thrilled to meet this group of dedicated activists in the heart of Mississippi. The first man, deeply calm and thoughtful, introduces himself to me as Monzell, one of our forefathers, a civil rights activist his whole life - after he returned from Vietnam.

After Monzell shares his long and committed activist past, he tells me with a sweep of his arm, that these are his people. He finally found them.

Lindsay, a vivacious white woman, then takes me under her wing to introduce me to the other men who are there: James, a white man, is bottom-lining the overnite occupation; Albert and Trey are there everyday - have been there before, when they didn't have the city permission to sleep in the park.

Veggie Oil

I am supposed to be in Jackson by noon today so I'm rushing!

I have burned my one tank of veggie oil already - tears - and so I have to pump the oil in my reserve tank into my permanent tank. I do that at the rest stop I have spent the nite at.

There is "security provided" here too at this rest stop, only there is a little, modern glass and brick square building the size of a large bathroom maybe. When I arrived last nite, a HUGE white man appeared to fill the entire room. I don't think he could turn around to see what was on either side or in back of him.

This morning he has been replaced by a woman of color who is his opposite, tiny, short, compact. I see a plug on the side of this little building but don't want to risk asking if I can plug in. I will have to depend on my solar, even tho it is overcast and foggy - with the mist turning to a sprinkling of frost on the grass.

I turn off my fridge and plug in my electric cord and start pumping. It takes about a little over an hour to pump the 55 gallons into my tank.

No one stops to ask me questions, comment on my truck, or even wave although many pass by in their huge pickup trucks with the 4 doors.

The security guard doesn't look my way either, so I just continue to pump away.

Everything takes longer then anticipated and by the time I'm finished, I have to rush. I start on the road and grrrr my veggie oil doesn't work. The gauge says I have no pressure... which means at least one filter is clogged.

Or it could mean it is too cold to run wvo. I run diesel for several miles and try the veggie oil again.

Again, the truck begins to stall so I have to face the fact I need to change my filter. I hope just one of them will do.

I find an exit that is on a slight decline, park, raise the hood, and get to work changing the filter. It takes only about 15 minutes and I am on the road again, this time running veggie oil! yeah!!!