Our friend David Bruce, a businessman from Washington, DC, was in Seattle for a conference and drove down to visit us over the weekend. It was really great to see someone from Washington, DC. He serves on the board of directors for the Skopelos Foundation for the Arts in Skopelos, Greece. We are always looking for a good excuse for an adventure and David made for a good excuse. The hike to the bridge is an easy .3 miles and, as we discovered, a very scenic way to get wet.

As we move into our first autumn in Portland, we are in awe of the natural beauty of our new area. The fall colors and the abundance of bright green moss, which softens the hard edges of the old stone walls and walkways, provide a striking contrast in color and texture. Unlike most places I have lived, the city and environs are covered with very old pine and cedar trees. Because they keep their leaves all year, the city is always green. As the leaves from the other trees drop, the light rains begin their annual months-long drizzle. The rain isn’t hard enough for an umbrella. It’s sweater and hoodie weather, but not cold by any means. We still have roses blooming and a few tomatoes remain on the vines. I normally find autumn to be depressingly gray, but this year it seems rich and layered. I think we’ll survive!

Thanks, David, for visiting and allowing us to show you our city and its environs and to enjoy it again. (Click the photos to see larger versions.)

Multnomah Falls, Portland

Pro-Liberty, Not Anti-Mormon

Joel Engardio

The lights of local TV cameras seeking gay-on-the-street sound-bites illuminated the darker part of Broadway on the Upper West Side where thousands of people marched the other night chanting, “Gay, straight, black, white, marriage is a civil right.”

I was one of them, upset and disillusioned that a right could be so easily eliminated for an entire group of people that included me. Sure, New York has never allowed same-sex marriage. But it was a right granted in California until a simple majority of voters decided that gay relationships weren’t equal to their own.

I joined up with the march in progress at West 66th Street, in front of Manhattan’s Mormon Temple. The spot was significant because California’s constitutional amendment was bankrolled largely by the Mormon Church, which urged its members nationwide to donate tens of millions of dollars to stop gay couples and their families from receiving the same legal recognition and protections everyone else enjoys.

“Two-four-six-eight, separate church and state,” the crowd shouted.

I couldn’t agree more. Working for the American Civil Liberties UnionI know this concept is what allows America to be America—we may not be each other’s cup of tea in our beliefs and actions, but somehow we have to find a way for a variety of kettles to peacefully share the stove.

But some of the protest signs were especially ugly and demeaning to the Mormon faith. One sign made fun of the protective, spiritual undergarments worn by Mormon men: “Keep your holy undies out of our business!”

I chuckled. But it bothered me to consider doing to the Mormons what they did to me—and they did pay for some disgusting and deceitful TV ads in their campaign to eliminate my rights. As a civil liberties advocate, I should follow Voltaire’s notion of defending the rights of those I disagree with.

News crews from the New York media market seemed to have a TV camera and correspondent at every block, interviewing marchers. I wondered what I would say if stopped. I realized that I would have to say that I’m not protesting the right of Mormons to believe or say that gay unions are wrong and sinful. The First Amendment guarantees them the right to decide who they deem worthy of membership and marriage in their church. It also lets them preach what they want, even at our front doors.

What I was protesting was the obliteration of that delicate tea-cup-and-kettle system I like to envision as the church-state balance. I thought about divorce. Mormons detest it. Yet the state allows it and some 50 percent of straight couples do it. And still, Mormon families seemingly flourish in spite of it. Why the need to ban gay unions if there isn’t a need to eliminate the right of divorced people to marry? Why can’t gay couples get a marriage license at city hall and just not be allowed to marry in a Mormon temple? There’s precedent for it. Catholics, Muslims and Jews aren’t allowed to marry in Mormon temples, but they still all sign the same state-issued marriage certificate before going off to have their own ceremonies in a place of worship that welcomes them. Can’t gay couples be treated the same?

As I marched past the Mormon temple toward Columbus Circle, I could understand why so many of the protesters were directing their anger at the church. We are not a Mormon nation, as much as we are not a Baptist or Pentecostal nation. So it is painful when any religion forces all of us to live their way by altering the Constitution upon which all our laws are based. But when this initial sting of anger passes, I hope we can use the rights of speech and assembly still afforded to us in the Constitution to win back the fundamental right of marriage we lost in California, and have yet to gain in other states. And that means not trying to destroy the rights of Mormons or anyone else who wants to believe our relationships are less than theirs.

In the marketplace of ideas, the best idea will win. So far in our nation’s history, despite long odds and terrible setbacks, equality has been a winning idea. We don’t need to bash Mormons to prove that gay couples deserve equal treatment by the state. What Mormons believe is up to them and maybe they’ll change (they did finally allow African-Americans to become full members in 1978) and maybe they won’t. There will always be disparate kettles trying to share space on the American stove.

What we can do is a better job of crying foul the next time a group tries to upset the church-state balance. We can also make our case with a more diverse audience. After all, there isn’t a racial, cultural or religious tea party that doesn’t have gay attendees. Mormons included.

———————

(This essay was originally posted by Engardio on the ACLU blog.)

Joel P. Engardio is a writer, documentary filmmaker and civil liberties advocate. His work has appeared in the Los Angeles Times, San Francisco Chronicle, USA Today and on NPR and PBS. Engardio directed the award-winning PBS film KNOCKING about Jehovah’s Witnesses. He currently helps the American Civil Liberties Union communicate its message and issues through online video.

Joel Engardio, Mormon Church, American Civil Liberties Union

Read more about the artist at http://www.myspace.com/francoismacre.

“THRILLER” music and lyrics by Rod TEMPERTON
© RODSONGS

Here’s what happened: Mom and Dad K were visiting my two sisters who live in LA. While there, Mom K went outside alone and fell on her face on a concrete patio. Moments later one of my nephews went out another door to listen to his iPod and found his Nana behind the house lying face down in a pool of blood. He is a quick thinker and got help for my mom within seconds. If not for his quick thinking, things would have been much worse.

As it was, Mom was in the intensive care unit of Cedars-Sinai for a week before transferring to a regular hospital room for another week. Following that, she was moved to Cedars’ rehabilitation program for another two weeks to help her regain physical and cognitive abilities she has lost—hopefully, only temporarily—after suffering traumatic brain injury (TBI) from the fall. Monday we moved her from Cedars to another facility in the LA area for continuing rehabilitation.

For several days it was touch and go. We weren’t sure if she would make it. After a few days we knew she’d survive but we didn’t know if her brain would return to normal, and we still don’t, not completely.

The good news: Two of my sisters live a few minutes from where Mom K is staying, and have barely left her side. Dad K is staying at one sister’s house until Mom K recovers, however long that is. My sister Ellen flew in from Australia to spend ten days with Mom, and spent the whole time in Mom’s hospital room. Niece Skylar and I drove from Portland, Oregon, to LA for one trip and Skylar stayed with my mom in the hospital for two weeks. From the time she was taken away in an ambulance more than a month ago until yesterday, Mom had not been alone for more than a minute or two; my dad, my three sisters, my niece and I took turns spending the night with Mom in the hospital. This was important to her because she would awaken in the middle of the night, look around the room and see that at least one of us was there looking back at her, and she’d smile and go back to sleep, knowing she was taken care of by her family.

This morning I called Mom, and she was upset. At the new facility, we can’t spend the night in her room. She was certain she’d been alone for four days—her brain isn’t keeping good track of time now. She was assured by her nurse that it had been less than twelve hours since someone had been there, but Mom’s still unhappy that she had to be on her own—even though there are dozens of doctors and nurses, as well as other patients, nearby at all times. But those people aren’t her family, and family is what matters most to her, and to us. I promised her that, if she ever needs me, she only has to call me and I’ll fly in from Portland and be at her side within a few hours, and that’s a promise I will keep.

It’s often in a time of crisis that we realize how important family is. Tell your family members often that you love them. You never know when they won’t be able to hear you say it anymore. Love your family enough to tell them so. You will never regret it.

It is also a time to remember that war is not glorious and has its costs. The many thousands who survive their service are changed, some not for the best. Those who suffer, physical, psychological, and spiritual wounds deserve our help.

Our most recent war has so far claimed 4,780 lives. The Bush Administration forbids photographs of the caskets as they return, lest they “upset people.” But we must face the reality of what war really means. Each of the caskets below represents a man or woman who paid the ultimate price in our name. It is in their memory that we must work tirelessly to eliminate the causes of war.

Here is one casket:

The next page shows what 4,780 caskets looks like.

Scroll to the bottom to get a full idea of what has been going on in Iraq.

It is our sincere desire that the healing begin now. Some things transcend our political differences, no matter how passionate our beliefs. Things like family, friends, country, and the world community. We pray we may begin to rebuild, one relationship at a time, with civility and respect. Please join us in that prayer. It’s a new day. Let’s move on.

We must not give up our core beliefs and hopes. We will continue to advocate for the things that we believe in, hope for, and dream for. A life lived without belief, hope, and passion is an empty one. We must have hope that our dreams of a better world will be fulfilled, but we know that it won’t happen without lots of work.

“Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: you don’t give up.”
—Activist and writer Anne Lamott

America still has a long way to go, however. The passage of Proposition 8 in California, to amend the state constitution to remove the right of same-sex couples to marry, shows that special interest groups can still buy their way. I’m saddened that people felt it was more important to spend $75 million dollars on the campaign than to use that money to feed a few hundred thousand people in Africa for a few months. The campaign was losing by 17 points before out-of-state religious groups became involved and the money started flowing in to purchase TV ad time. The ads used fear and lies about the effects on children, education, and religious institutions to sway voters. Pleas from the state Superintendent of Schools, the mayors of all the major cities, the Senators, virtually every newspaper, and hundreds of clergy were not sufficient to counteract the misinformation.

The irony that religious money went to break up stable and commited families and make their children illegitimate is heartbreaking. Just as with the rights of African Americans and the civil rights of women, religious institutions are the last to grow up. Our children and grandchildren will look back on this day and shake their heads with disbelief, just as we do at the “Whites Only” signs on water fountains and restaurants. The majority question then was, “They have their water fountains. What difference does it make if they are separate from ours?” The majority question in California today is, “They have pretty much all the rights of marriage. Why do then need to have real marriage?”

Last night someone said, “It’s just an election. My candidate lost and your proposition lost. It’s the same thing. Life goes on.” The wise answer was, “You didn’t lose any of your civil rights. My wife and I lost our family. Life can’t just go on.”