I Meet Cindy Sheehan

After we'd been at Camp Casey for most of an hour and had looked at most of the booths, done a lot of people-watching, and generally soaked up the ambience, I came across Cindy Sheehan. She was off to the side of the road in a lawn chair, one or two people to her side, and another couple in front of her. She looked exactly like she did on TV, and remarkably approachable.

I knew my wife would want to meet her, so I walked the 50 or so yards across the length of the camp to tell her. "Cindy's over there." "Really?" she said as she turned to walk Cindyward. I think most all of us have a fascination with celebrity, even that which has been arrived at in so circuitous a fashion.

We kinda walked over in that direction, and that's about the time my daughter started crying. I've blogged about this previously, but essentially she was overwhelmed by the emotion--the crosses representing the fallen soldiers, the fresh-scrubbed young but now dead young people with faces looking back at us, not at the time the pictures were made knowing what their fates would be. And now there was Cindy. This woman who had started it all out of rage and love and the desire to save some lives.

My daughter and I got diverted with that emotion for a while as my wife took a few pictures. By the time I worked my way back to Ms. Sheehan, she was sitting in the back seat of her van, taking a break in the shade. I'm not a physical person--I tend to avoid touch with those I don't know. But when I walked up her hand was splayed across her lower thigh and I just reached out and put my hand on it, as if that were normal for me to do.

"Cindy, I'd like to thank you for doing what you're doing. I think it's a great thing, and it means a lot to me." She took her hand out from under mine and grasped it affectionately with both of hers. Her green eyes look right into mine, and she smiled gently. She thanked me for coming to Crawford, and for my support. I told her that I was wishing her strength, because I knew this must be really hard.

She looked down at our joined hands and said it a world-weary way "Yes, it's been really hard." Then she looked back up at me and said "But it's nothing compared to what our soldiers are going through, or the Iraqi people."

"Yeah, that's true. Good luck to you; we're behind you." She thanked me and I turned and left, more convinced than before I came that Ms. Sheehan was the person she seemed to be.

In the days since I've been back I now hear that her husband has filed for divorce. A local rancher has fired a shotgun in the air while drinking beer, just for fun. Just to be intimidating. And then a Waco man dragged a pipe behind his pickup mowing down hundreds of the crosses that represented the soldiers who have given their lives in the war.

I now know that the difficulty I could see she was feeling then was just the tip of the iceberg. And it may be just a fraction of what's to come. As we all think about our trials, wish some energy her way. She could surely use it.

And now as I'm about to publish this, I find that the cousin of the man who was shooting a shotgun nearby has volunteered to house Camp Casey at his property. The whole thing will be moved and they'll no longer be sleeping in ditches and be so vulnerable to whatever misguided psycho might do to them. I'm pleased and relieved for Cindy.

If you can't make the trip to Crawford, and for the latest in goings-on at Camp Casey, go here.