Day 173 Mondays….

Today is Monday. Mondays tend to be hard. I remember when Matt was incarcerated in Canada, he would stress on Sundays because he was afraid he’d be shipped back on a Monday without us knowing. And here we are. Heavy sigh. After torture, after spending 4 years imprisoned, Matt was betrayed again.

But, like Matt says, “we have to refuse to enter echo chambers of outrage. We can agree on our outrage concerning a particular issue but then our feelings must turn to action, not repeated affirmation seeking and rage-gratification.”

Today, I handled my Monday by serving someone else. I cooked all day and made a meal and dessert for an older couple, the wife recovering from surgery.
I spent 2 hours listening to them tell me stories of their past.

We all need each other, don’t we? I think they did more for me than I did for them.

To Matthew Keys: Hang in there buddy. I heard an appeal was filed for you today. I won’t give up hope that some ethical and wise judge will see what’s going on. A card is on it’s way.

Kristen, Matt got your giant card.  He laughed about it all day!

Thank you Ronda for the prayer tonight. You are in my heart.

peace friends..:)

Day 172 Mercy for all

Today is Sunday. Today, I heard a story that maybe we all should listen to.

This is taken from Wikipedia:

“Arland Dean Williams Jr. (September 23, 1935 – January 13, 1982) was a passenger aboard Air Florida Flight 90, which crashed on take-off in Washington, D.C., on January 13, 1982, killing 78 people. One of six people to initially survive the crash, he helped the other five escape the sinking plane before succumbing to his injuries.[1]

A clergyman[who?] later said His heroism was not rash. Aware that his own strength was fading, he deliberately handed hope to someone else, and he did so repeatedly. On that cold and tragic day, Arland D. Williams Jr. exemplified one of the best attributes of human nature, specifically that some people are capable of doing anything for total strangers.

The 14th Street Bridge over the Potomac River at the crash site was renamed in his honor.”

What struck me most were the comments from another pastor (Paul DeHart) said about this story.

“I don’t recall reading anywhere that Mr. Williams asked anyone his or her religion or political affiliation. I don’t believe it even crossed Mr. Williams mind if the people he was helping to save were white, black, gay, straight, or transgendered. What Mr. Williams saw were human beings in need of mercy and he gave up his own life to help save strangers.”

We are all human beings. The best of us and the worst of us in the end need some mercy.

Peace my friends….

Day 171 The Prison Industry

Today is Saturday. Today, I spent a good part of the day at a Starbuck’s (sorry for those of you who dislike corporate cafes). I got myself a coffee and I listened to some decent music that was being played. We don’t have much of a choice for cafes to sit and get work done. Starbuck’s makes it convenient.

Today, I worked on my art creating cards for my peeps who are in prison. Right now in my life I can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing than encourage my son and others who are incarcerated.

Main stream media will not discuss the reality of the US prison system because you would be incensed if you saw how our jails and prisons are run. At least I hope you would be. Corporations make billions of dollars off of prisoners. They are commodity for big business.

If you have been reading my blog, then you have gotten a tiny glimpse of the horrors the imprisoned are subject to.

I want to introduce you to an incredible journalist if you have not heard of him. His name is Chris Hedges. He has been a war correspondent, he’s an ordained minister, an author of several books, and he teaches in the NJ prison system. He now has a program (finally) and he is amazing.

If you read my blog, I ask you, no, I plead with you to please give listen to his program, ON CONTACT.  I will provide the link below. Listen to the half hour programs discussing the prison industry. You need to be aware of this.

Tonight, I watched Chris interview a dear friend who I wrote while he was in prison, activist attorney, Stanley Cohen. Stanley discussed the half way houses that the incarcerated are transitioned to from prison. These half way houses are run by corporations that provide no health care, no training, no counseling, no safety. It is one of the most tragic and inhumane businesses making millions off the misery of human beings besides the prisons.

This segment should hopefully be online soon. Please add this link to your favorites and make time to watch. No, it is not positive. No, you will not be uplifted. Yes, it will depress and make you angry. My prayer is that these frank exposes of what is happening to people who are thrown in prison and half way houses will move you to compassion, and compassion moves you to help however you can whenever you can.

Lest you think people in prison deserve to be treated inhumanely because they have made mistakes and committed crimes, think about this. Most of the people in prison doing excessive sentences are in for non violent crimes, many are first time offenders, many have untreated mental illnesses and many, like my dear son, are totally innocent.

Please pass this post on. Not for me, but for you. Please make yourself aware of the suffering of over 2 million people. Please don’t ignore this.

To Chris Hedges: I am incredibly thankful that you have a program now. My family has read your books and followed you on Truthdig for many years. You are a prophet of the times.

To Stanley Cohen: My friend, I am sorry you have suffered; but, you are a blessing to be able to share the truth from personal experience and I see a stronger and even more compassionate man beyond the bars.

peace my friends…

Day 170 yes day 170

Today is Friday. Today is 170 days..heavy sigh. Today, I have been restless and my patience was very thin.

Today, I received 2 calls from Matt, 2 long calls. This is bad because he uses up too many minutes.

Triggers for PTSD pushed him into the anger/fear stage. Maybe that’s why I was restless all day. Several times throughout the day I just sobbed.
I can’t help my son. I can’t change a damn thing.

Today, I have just done a pathetic job of blogging. I would appreciate thoughts and prayers. I will get over this and help Matt, too.

Much love…..

Day 169 out of work and baking

Today is Thursday. Today, I received a letter from my son and tweeted it out per his request. I have been sending him travelog books because he has always loved geography and learning about other cultures.

Well, in case I hadn’t mentioned it before, I am without a job for about a month now. It is not easy to find a job here either.

I was inspired by my friend Gabi from Canada who started making her own natural soaps and selling them at farmers’ markets. She also bakes goods and sells them, too. Gabi told me I was an awesome baker as I would bring in my pastries and cakes to work.

So, I have been baking all day for a farmer’s market that is going on this weekend. I have decided to make a variety of Scottish baked goods and put them in a basket. I am also making personal salted caramel apple pies.

Hey, one has to get creative. I’ve always wanted to own a bed and breakfast and do all the cooking and baking. This might be my chance to do something I really enjoy.

The only thing…wish I could send my son some of my baking..:)

peace dear friends…:)

Day 168 lyrics for the “invisible”

Today is Wednesday. Today is a day of musing. Today is a day of dreaming. Today is a day to remember the invisible people in this world. Today and old song I wrote….

Under an Irish Rain

(I’m not invisible under an Irish rain) whispered.

Ooh I’m standing here
But you don’t see me
My lips are moving
But you just keep on walking by
I feel like I’m slowly disappearing
Oh God my fear is
I’m dead and I’m the last to know

(I’m not invisible under an Irish rain)

Nobody is my name
Cut me do I bleed air?
Is love really blind
Can you see, do you care?
So I wonder if I’m real
A figment of your imagination
An echo that you don’t hear


A splash of smile
A ray of red
Pools of green
Sweet misty kiss to cure the pain
I’m not invisible
I’m not untouchable
I’m not invisible under and Irish rain.

Rain gives me life
Rain gives me drink
I walk beside and not behind
I am one with the rain
Won’t let me slip away
I’m not invisible
I’m not untouchable
I’m not invisible under and Irish rain.

copyright June 2009 Leann DeHart

To all the homeless people out there…you are not invisible.

peace my friends…

Day 167 Life enriched…

Today is Tuesday. Today, I had I spoke to a someone I hope considers me a friend. Today, I heard her story. Today I felt her pain. Today I wished with all my heart I could make the pain and suffering go away.

Today, it only confirmed for me how vulnerable and fragile we are as human beings and yet we can also be the most resilient and powerful. And most times, it’s not about physical strength but the character and heart we possess.

I wish to tell my friend today that her life is a story of trial, of suffering, of a will to see justice where this is little or none, to feel compassion for strangers, to put herself at risk on behalf of others.

Tracey, if you read this, you have enriched my journey. I will pray that you see justice, that you get the care you need, that your kindness and compassion for the likes of me would return a hundred fold to you.

You remind me of my son in that you both have very kind hearts. He is a warrior for the underdog, a protector of the weak, a decent human being.

You are the flowers in the desert, the bright colours that wash over a gray wasteland.  This world needs more flowers.

Peace my friend….

Day 166 “I Hear Doves Cry”

Today is Monday. Today, I heard from Matt and that is always a good thing. I also received a letter from Jeremy Hammond. I enjoy getting his letters because he has great sense of humor like Matt. He is such a sweet guy and he often asks about Matt and how he is doing.

Today, I got urge to write again, so you will have to bear with me. My creativity had been bottled up for too long and I think I’ve sprung a leak. 🙂

I Hear Doves Cry

The dew sparkles on the blades of freshly cut grass
I sip my french roast coffee in the cool of the morning
His street, his town is decimated and bodies lie among the rubble
He is only six bereft, hungry, alone and no clean water to drink
I hear doves cry

The traffic is halted by an ambulance; it moves too slow for my pace
I have shopping and errands to do; I’m too busy for this nonsense
An angry man in blue has blown a hole through somebody’s kid
Well, it is the “bad section” where the “criminals” live
I hear doves cry

The lunch menu is pricey, but the steak salad is delicious
I sip my wine imagining how I’ll look in those 4 pairs of new shoes
A mop of stringy gray hair atop a tattered brown coat, below bare feet
Molly’s eyes search blank faces as she holds out wrinkled hands
I hear doves cry

A letter arrives in the mail to line my polished silver trash can
I am irritated that some group expects me to give away my money
My six year old is singing to a tiny limp bird cradled in her hands
“His mommy is gone and I am going to save him because he needs me,” she says with tears in her soft eyes
I hear doves cry

I pick up the letter and I write a check to go inside
I pack up the shoes for a lady in a brown coat I know
I stand beside a dead kid’s mom and hug her while she grieves
I raise my voice with others against the wars
I hear doves cry

Peace my friend…

Day 165 To be free at last (relatively speaking)

Today is Sunday. Today I heard the news about Barrett Brown’s release the end of November. What a wonderful Christmas present for his mom. He has such great support from thousands of followers and the Courage Foundation.

A brilliant writer and feisty soul, I hope Barrett is able to take his craft to higher levels and that his adjustment to being uncaged will be smooth and very little pain.

I would like to see Chelsea, Jeremy, and my son Matt enjoy that day of relative freedom sooner than later. I know the reality of conditions and the current toxic atmosphere in this country, but I want the best for these young men. I want to see them thrive and grow and continue to make positive changes in this country.

From all the DeHarts, the ones uncaged and the one caged, we wish you God speed Barrett and pray the time flies by until you walk out of your cage.

Hugs to your mom for having to suffer through her son being caged. Much love to the both of you.