Cindy Sheehan 2

'Cindy Has Earned a Rest
By William Rivers Pitt
t r u t h o u t Columnist
Wednesday 30 May 2007

My alliance with Cindy Sheehan began with an exchange of emails several years ago after I made mention of her son, Casey, in an article about the expanding number of American troops lost in Iraq. She wrote to thank me, and to correct me on some small details about precisely when and how Casey died. Our friendship grew from that moment, and over time, she was always there to hand me a good kick in the pants whenever I needed one.
Last March, Cindy's long-belt of road-bound activism brought her to Boston, where she spoke at a rally commemorating the four-year anniversary of the war. My bar is a favorite spot of hers; I'd brought her there twice before during previous visits she made to Massachusetts, and both times I saw the same woman of passionate energy and commitment who sat in a Texas ditch until the country could no longer ignore her - or the war. The light was in her eyes, the hope that things could be changed was in every word she spoke and, as ever, the sorrow from her loss was there like a shroud. She was motivated, optimistic, cynical, tired, inspired and resolute, all at the same time.
When I brought her and some of her friends out to have a beer and relax last March, however, I saw a different Cindy.
She was not broken or in despair, but neither was she the same woman I'd known before. Health problems had robbed her of the energy that once crackled around her, one arm was in a sling because of tendon damage, and she was tired. Bone-tired. Tired in soul and spirit. I began that evening looking forward to the kind of rollicking talks we'd always enjoyed together, but wound up spending most of the night pleading with her to take some time off and rest.
Cindy hadn't really stopped, you see. She'd never left the road, never surrendered to exhaustion or sadness, never allowed the barbs from enemies and so-called "allies" to deter her or discourage her. But sitting there, I could see how much of a toll her efforts and sacrifices were taking. The treads on her tires were worn down to the radials, so to speak.'

Lees verder: http://www.truthout.org/docs_2006/053007A.shtml