Lumpkin Detention Center - to be continued
We pull into a gas station outside of Columbus that has a huge parking lot and several trucks and cars parked along the side. We park too, get in the back camper & I make our breakfast.
Jasi wants eggs so badly. He has spied the eggs I have in the little fridge. I ask him if eggs are on his special power diet. He looks so very sad and tells me, no - but we could just not tell his mama.
I am sad for many things - sad I forgot to take the eggs out before coming here, sad he is so sad, and really sad that he wants get around his mother's rules by lying to her - not that he understands what lying is, but he does understand what he wants, what his mom wants, and how he thinks he can do both.
I warm up the squash and broccoli with kelp noodles and tell him I am going to make pretend eggs. I smash the squash and mix avocado into it, make circles with my magic wand, and proclaim "walla walla, eggs we galla".
Before he can taste the eggs and complain, someone knocks on our door. We are in deep southern Georgia, about 10 miles from both the Florida and Alabama borders. I wish it was good news but it is usually it's not the folks that wanna talk that knock but the ones that want to harass me knock.
And it is. A 40-ish white woman tells me I can't park here. I do not argue with her but merely say I am feeding the baby, and then I will move. She says okay.
Jasi contents himself with eating pretend eggs - this time.
We leave for Columbus to hook up with the Lumpkin Detention Center protest caravan before the woman has a chance to return.
When we get to the small town of Lumpkin, Jasi remembers he was there & confidently rides off on his bike after I park to join the rally, while I hurriedly grab his food, water, and a book, just in case.
The rally is almost over by the time we arrive, and the 2 mile march starts quickly. There are a couple hundred people there, not as many as last year, but still a great group. Jasi is able to ride his trike the whole 2 miles.
We hear again about the dire conditions inside the privately run prison/detention center. A womon who was slated to speak with us about her husband, who was arrested after doing his civil duty testifying to the police about a crime he witnessed and detained behind the fence we were standing outside of.
She was not there. Her husband had been spirited away in the wee hours of the morning. She got a collect wake up call from him, saying he was somewhere in Mexico with no money, no clothes, no resources.
He had been summarily deported.
It was so very sad. She has an 19 month old baby boy, and her husband had filled out all his papers and was waiting a citizenship hearing days before he was 'picked up'.