Four years ago I spent a weekend with my friend and comrade, Kevin Connor. I visited him at Indiana State Prison. Four years ago on this day he was executed. Below is a short thing I wrote on one of the many hundreds of times I've thought about Kevin and the plight of the criminalized poor and working class, over these recent years.
Life is a struggle. If it doesn’t kill us, it could make us stronger.
Last weekend I heard a young guy play a song I had known since a child. It was a big hit in Britain in 1966 and played forever on the radio. It was arranged so badly that I was unable to recognize the beauty in the song. Then I heard this long-haired spindly guy play it at a local farmers market.
The Green, Green Grass of Home was the song. It was played as it was probably written to be played: hauntingly. It’s a song that starts out about a person stepping off a train and having their parents meet him. Everyone is there, even his girl with her hair of gold and lips of cherry. As I listened to the lyrics it reminded me of going home to the country of my childhood, seeing friends from the past and the warmth and sanctuary of my mothers home. It made me think of all the workers I know who yearn to return home.
Then the last stanzas reveals that the song’s narrator is confined to four clay walls and that the padre is coming for him at sunrise and he will not be returned to his family but will see them underneath the green, green grass of home. I cried a little to myself.
Three years ago next month we will commemorate Kevin Conner who was a comrade and executed by the State of Indiana. There are no mainstream songs today sympathetic to prisoners, especially those on Death Row. To my knowledge there are no big name musicians demanding to play to the prisoners of San Quentin.
I sent a note to Kevin's sister yesterday and heard that she’s doing well. She mentioned one thing that struck with me. She said that Kevin’s 17 years on Death Row taught her to handle pain, to be strong and to be like her brother.
Since she turned an adult Kevin’s sister Debbie has been plagued with Kidney Stones. Perhaps the worst pain one could experience. She has on occasion had several surgeries a-year to have them removed. A couple of weeks ago she lay in pain in the middle of the night. She is a single mom and lay there, unwilling to wake up her two young children and cart them off to the ER with her in the middle of the night. She instead, waited, took her kids to school and then went straight to the ER where they put her under the knife within the hour.
One day the working class will collectively pay back the mothers of the world for their courage, determination and suffering. We will also avenge the Prison Industrial Complex, the media, the politicians and those that hold their strings. Then we will really "be home."
1 comment:
It's interesting to find this post. Debbie contacted me once as I share the name of her brother. She was asking me if I was putting up her brother's artwork on one of my art galleries.
http://www.elfwood.com/~conner
She told me a bit about her brother and in my reply I let her know I was praying for her, her brother, and her family. This was before the execution. It's amazing how the Internet has brought strangers across each others past who share similar traits.
I hope she is doing well. I have a heart for single parents. I know it can be rough. Mother have always taken the soldier's share of weight in America.
Post a Comment