Federalism, the Constitution, Secession, Texas v. White and "The Lincoln Myth"

Someone asked James Michener once, “With all the research you do on your books, why do you write fiction?” His answer “So I can tell the truth.” In 2003 after a forced retirement from my job as a teacher of history and English due to whistle blowing, I embarked on a new career. With all doors to teaching closed to me, I decided to self-publish a book that would tell the “true” story of American history in fictional form. In 2009 I released the first edition of “The Peacemaker” a generational saga of American history that told a story of an American family from 1720 through 2001. The story is based on stories of disenfranchised Americans since the founding of this so called republic. Since its publication, I have spent countless hours traveling thousands of miles to carry the message of this book to the American reading public. I have continued reading and studying current as well as past stories of the progression of disenfranchised Americans and their lack of participation in building a legitimate republic that would make the great words of our documents of freedom ring true for everyone except the very small group of white, Christian, males over the age of 21 who became known as the Founding Fathers. This group controlled all the property taken over through annihilation of the legitimate cultures living in North America when they arrived. Recently, I discovered a new, as yet untold story about President Lincoln, the Civil War and why it was really fought. The name of the book is “The Lincoln Myth” by Steve Berry. The myth of the Civil War being fought to free the slaves was covered in that section of “The Peacemaker,” but Mr. Berry goes even further in his story. Using actual notes from the Constitutional Convention and correspondence from Abraham Lincoln to Joseph Smith, Mr. Berry weaves a story of a modern day plot by members of the Mormon faith in Utah to secede from the Union as they had tried to do during the Civil War and connects it with the current situation of states like Texas trying to secede from the Union today. Using quotations from James Madison and various members of the Constitutional Convention, Mr. Berry intimates that the Founding Fathers followed an agenda in writing the Constitution that was not only contrary to what their states had sent them to do, it was, in fact, something about which even the delegates attending the secret meeting had reservations. Setting up a Union with no right of secession for the states violated the very foundation of the Declaration of Independence that had justified America’s right to dissolve its connection with Great Britain. As the story develops, Mr. Berry uses President Lincoln’s own words to prove the Civil War was not about ending slavery. In fact, his book substantiates the claim made in “The Peacemaker” that the Emancipation Proclamation was no more than a political move to bring the South back into the Union. If the South had not continued fighting, slavery would have continued. The Civil War was about setting up an arbitrary perpetual union from which no state could secede despite perceived abuses. According to Mr. Berry, the Civil War and 600,000 deaths did nothing to settle any issue. This is why we are still fighting the Civil War today. The federal government has continued to get bigger and bigger and intrude into every area of American life. We are not a free people. We have built the most powerful war machine in the world. Ironically, the President of the United States is the most powerful commander-in-chief in the world. If Thomas Jefferson were alive today, he would be calling upon the American people to once again stand up to an abusive government run by a absolute monarch and “alter it and abolish it” and institute a new one.

James Puckett Criswell of Leitchfield, KY - My Dad

September 12, 1913 - July, 1972

Dark skinned with the raven, curly hair that spoke of his Native and African American heritage, my dad was a handsome man despite his small stature. An extremely malnourished and difficult youth left him bald and without teeth before I was born. That's why I never remember seeing him outside without a hat - a straw one in summer and a felt one in winter. 

My dad's maternal great-grandmother was a member of the Blackfeet Tribe according to family stories. My research into the Criswell side of the family led me to a free black named "Sally" who evidently was an ancestor of James Criswell who migrated from Pennsylvania to Kentucky in the early 1800's denying his African ancestry and passing as white throughout the generations of my particular geneology. My dad's father, Andrew Jackson Criswell, was born to James Criswell and his English wife who had no knowledge of the African-American genes and were, in fact, quite dedicated to the work of Indian fighter and early settler of the Northwest Territory, Andrew Jackson.

Andrew Jackson married a woman named Annie Puckett who was thirty years his junior and already the mother of a small boy. Annie and Andrew had three children, James, Alice and Georgina who died at age five from a bad walnut. Annie had an affair while married to Andrew and had a mulatto son that she sent to live with the black community around Leitchfield. She now added a "Scarlett Letter" to her and her family's reputation. Her children bore the burden of that shame. 

When Andrew Jackson died in 1933, young James was left to work to support the family in any way he could. There was no work and his older half-brother was in prison for stealing a loaf of bread. The New Deal and Franklin Delano Roosevelt's Civilian Conservation Corps provided relief for my father and his family. As a result, my father worshiped FDR and became a life long Democrat. 

When his time in the CCC ended there was still no decent work other than the backbreaking work in the rock quarries around town, so my father supplemented his income by running moonshine in the dry counties surrounding Leitchfield. Like most backwoodsmen of his time, he hunted and knew how to use a shotgun. He added skill with a handgun at this time.

In 1939, James met the love of his life, a strawberry blonde, full-figured woman by the name of Pauline. They eloped in December of 1939 to avoid the wrath of Pauline's father who also knew how to use a shotgun. In August of 1940, James and Pauline had a son that they named after both grandfathers, Roy Jackson - my older brother Jack. Five more children followed, another son, James Ronald in 1942, a daughter Janice Marie in 1944, Brenda Sue in 1946, Lydia Faye in 1951 and Debra Kay in 1955. These children became the center of their universe and Daddy's primary thought was always about loving and protecting us. When he found his God sometime before I was born, his love for this God filtered down to us in every way humanly possible. I never knew until I became a grown woman how lucky my mom was to have a husband like my dad and how lucky we children were to have him as a father.

Mom and Dad were "soul mates" and inseparable. They worked and loved each other and their children unconditionally. Emotionally and physically challenged by his hard youth, Daddy worked when he could and we never were without the necessities, but, more important, we always felt loved and important despite our lack of material goods. Daddy was always home every evening for dinner and was there during the middle of the night if I had a nightmare or felt ill. I still remember his "mustard and garlic" poultices to sooth any chest or throat congestion. I also remember the night he chased away a burglar with his shotgun that he had ready for protection. After that, he bought a hand gun and kept it under the mattress of the bed always loaded and ready. I was always scared when I had to make up their bed for fear it might go off.

Daddy was an avid reader and loved learning. He had only a sixth grade education, but he passed this love of learning to me through his habit of reading the daily newspaper - the Pulitzer Prize winning "Courier-Journal." I first became interested in the paper through the comic section and I remember fighting with my brothers and sisters over who would get them right after Daddy was finished. I usually won being my dad's favorite. I looked exactly like my mom and Daddy also knew I shared his passion for knowledge and education. School was very important. Using schoolwork got me out of a lot of other chores but I really didn't use it as an excuse. I loved learning. We didn't have books or magazines, but there was never a time I asked to go to the library that I was ever refused.

After God and family came my education. Daddy would often give me his last dollar for pencils and notebook paper. He would take my dull pencils, pull his pocket knife from his pocket and sharpen them perfectly for me. I never could do that.I still remember how proud my dad was when I graduated from high school second in a class of 415 with a full tuition scholarship to a local college. Daddy helped me provide the transportation I needed to get to my classes and made sure my car was always running. I never knew a man could be so happy as the day I graduated with honors from Kentucky Southern College and began my teaching career. I know I fulfilled his dream and I'm glad he lived long enough to see that and see me married and off to a good start in life. I am sad that he never knew my children.

Daddy was never healthy and he compounded that with a lifestyle that included a poor diet and no exercise. He was obese and developed Type II Diabetes in the spring of 1972. Instead of helping my dad deal with the disease through proper diet and losing weight, his physicians gave him an experimental drug that exacerbated his heart condition resulting in a massive stroke and his death in July of 1972. We were too ignorant at the time to pursue any recourse against a pharmaceutical industry that has since become far too powerful in producing nothing but "sick cure" and drug dependence in the name of "health care."

Living with the grief of losing my father before his "natural passing" has created in me a desire to live a full, vibrant life that includes prevention of illness and creation of a strong, healthy immune system through a responsible diet and exercise. I enjoy a healthy, active life and although I know we never really know how long we have on this earth, living each day joyfully to its fullest fills me with great inner peace.

I was well into my sixties when my mom "went home" knowing not only her grandchildren but many great and great-great grandchildren. We all accepted that it was "her time" and that made it a lot easier. I don't live a life of anger and regret and am over the grieving of the loss of my dad and the manner in which he died. I am happy that I had him in my life for twenty-six years, long enough for him to influence the direction that my life took which has been one of the greatest joys of my life and a tribute to him.

Freedom of Speech, Whistle Blowing and Democracy

     In recent years, Americans have had the opportunity to learn about the

mysterious culture of Persia, Iran, due to the stories of individuals who

immigrated to the United States after the Revolution that have served to

enlighten Americans about what really happened during the Shah’s reign

and why a country whose traditions go back to one of respecting religious

freedom of all groups would turn against their Constitutional Monarchy

and establish a repressive religious Islamic Republic. As more information

about what it was really like under the rule of the Shah becomes available,

a sense of perspective about what happened begins to emerge.

      One of the most comprehensive stories in this collection of books is the memoir written by Sattarah Farman-Farmaian entitled “Daughter of Persia.” Ms. Farman-Famaian was the daughter of a Persian prince who ruled over vast lands much like a feudal lord during the early part of the Twentieth Century. Her father lost power after the creation of a Constitutional Monarchy in 1906. The backdrop for “Satti’s” formative years saw the first overthrow of this democracy and the rise of the first Shah with the help of Great Britain after World War I in an effort to seize control of Persia’s most valuable asset –oil. Satti was sent to the United States to go to school during World War II and then returned to what was now Iran (land of the Aryans) under the rule of the second Shah who rose to power with the help of the United States in 1953.

                While in the United States, Satti discovered what she believed to be the key to changing the deplorable conditions of poverty she knew existed in her country and had existed for centuries. The power of free speech.  She had experienced a university education where people were talking openly about social problems and dialoguing with one another to find a workable solution. Satti states that she learned …”if you could talk openly, you could discover what to do about a problem.” She saw this as the way people developed initiative in order to solve their own problems. This was the way to creating a stable, successful Iran. She set about establishing her school of social work and while trying to help alleviate poverty, she also worked toward instilling initiative and creative dialogue among the students she served in the School of Social Work. The thing that worked against her and led to the collapse of her school and her flight from Iran in 1979 was the repressive nature of the Shah’s so called rebuilding of Iran.

                While the Shah was touting all the wonderful achievements of the westernization of Iran, his secret police (SAVAK), whose members were trained by the United States CIA and Israel’s MOSSAD were watching trade unions to prevent strikes. SAVAK members also monitored the universities and publications critical of the Shah and some of his policies. Many fled to London but weren’t safe even there. A vocal Islamic cleric named Ayatollah Khomeini was also exiled for his criticisms of the Shah’s regime.  Free speech was non-existent and in the end everything fell apart and chaos ruled allowing an even more repressive regime to take over Iran. The right of free speech cannot be denied if a society is to move forward and create meaningful, lasting change.

                The whistleblower’s law passed near the end of the Twentieth Century was recognition in this country that even without a secret police to murder and torture, free speech can be inhibited by those who don’t have military power (yet), but those who control the economy and the delivery of goods and services in this country. I became familiar with this law in 2003 when I naively took on this role in my I position as a teacher at Camp Florence in Florence, OR.

     I had moved to Florence in 1998 after being hired as a classroom teacher for this small, transitional facility that served adjudicated males ready to move back into society. I was eager to take on this challenge after teaching in a middle school in Albuquerque, NM for ten years and being part of a dedicated team of professionals who were making a difference in the barrio school on the West Mesa. Although I received numerous awards and acclaim from my colleagues as well as the community, my biggest reward was knowing that I had been a part of a team that was making a difference. We talked; we communicated. We listened to one another with respect and encouraged each other and never sacrificed the benefit of the community we served just for the ego’s satisfaction of being right. Our team leader never listened to gossip generated from unhappy students or other teachers, but brought people together to talk openly to discover the root of the problem and how to handle it. It was my stellar resume along with enthusiastic recommendations that made me the candidate selected for this challenging position.

      After the passage of Measure 11 in Oregon a new educational paradigm was being established. For the first time, juveniles were now spending most of their high school years incarcerated so detention facilities were now creating schools that were accredited by the state to issue diplomas. I couldn’t have been more excited about being a part of this, and had a wealth of ideas and expertise to bring to the job.

     For three years ideas flowed freely and programs were created. I joined the Alternative Educators Association and began to be asked to speak and do workshops at professional meetings. Our program that tied vocational training to the classroom was written up in the Eugene “Register Guard.” I wrote a lesson plan that was incorporated into a text entitled “Powerful Teaching”  published by the search-institute.org – a forerunner in the use of Asset Based (instead of  problem based) approach to teaching youth.

     Beginning in 2001, I began to notice some disturbing methods being used by my teaching partner. I started to speak out first to my direct supervisor, my principal who was based in Albany and then, at her request to the Director of Camp Florence who worked for Oregon Youth Authority – the agency that held the contract with the ESD that I worked for.  I never dreamed the two year nightmare that ensued that would lead to my resignation under duress. There are more ways to get rid of someone than actually firing them, I learned.

     All communication stopped. I was isolated, my character was questioned and I felt totally alone and unable to trust no one. When the decision was made to transfer me to another location that might suit my rigid personality better and be placed on a Plan of Assistance, I obtained a lawyer. After that, I had a racial harassment complaint brought against me for singing “La Bamba” at a professional in- service, was relegated to teaching computer classes, taken from the Independent Study Program, denied attendance at IEP (Individual Educational Planning meetings for students in special education) and virtually any contact with students that was not monitored by other classroom teachers or Oregon Youth Authority Staff who reported anything they believed I said that was “out of line” and causing the dangerous situation among the student population at Camp Florence.

      When I protested through my attorneys once again, I was placed on paid administrative leave while these charges were being investigated. For one entire semester I sat at home with no one contacting me for lessons plans, etc. to direct the student activity for the substitute hired to fill in for me. At the beginning of the semester when the “investigation” was complete, I was called back to work under a “letter of reprimand,” the first step toward  a disciplinary action that would lead to firing. The next was to put the results  in my personnel file – another step toward firing. I resigned under duress and exercised my right of free speech and filed a lawsuit against Linn-Benton Lincoln ESD and the Oregon Youth Authority. The only thing that gave me the courage to do this was that I believed, given my professional history, I could find another job with no problem at all. I had an emotional breakdown and serious illness after learning that if I resigned without a sixty day notice, I would lose my teacher’s license. After twelve weeks of medical leave and lots of therapy, I negotiated with the school district to allow me to keep my teaching license and resign.

                I felt invigorated and renewed. I knew I would find a job by the fall of the year and that would sustain me through the difficult court process that lay ahead for me for the next four years.  During this time, I found out what others who weren’t so naïve as I already knew and learned the reason for their lack of support – my teaching career was over the minute I spoke out against the “system.” 

     Today, I don’t consider myself a “victim” and I have forgiven everyone involved in what happened.  Although I lost my house, my retirement and almost my health, I would still do the same thing today that I did before. I write this story now at the urging of my conscious that has learned to see a bigger picture and friends associated with two other people in the community who have spoken out about problems in their work environment and have suffered much the same consequences. The most recent was a good friend of mine, Dr. John Egar. I cannot sit back and hear what has happened to him without offering my insights about the overall world situation and its connection to what happens on an individual level too often in the workplace and communities throughout this country.

                Dr. John, as we lovingly call this physician who worked at Peace Health and had over 1,000 patients, was recently fired for writing letters to the editor informing the local community about the way medical costs were handled in Florence as opposed to Eugene. In speaking with John, that is what I understand. I was appalled to learn that Peace Health, which controls the medical services in Florence, can fire their employees for “no cause.” As I understand it, there is a shortage of medical doctors in Lane County that is affecting the service to the sick here, despite the fact of the supposed success of Obamacare giving people a way to pay for their care. Now, because a corporate monopoly does not want their “dirty laundry” questioned by the professionals who take their roles seriously, 1000 people in need of services are out of luck. Not only that, in this writer’s opinion, we have lost a caring professional because he thought transparency and sharing information is a step toward improving a system that is not functioning to serve the people who use it.  I offer my personal gratitude and support to Dr. John and have decided to share my story once again for all those who may feel caught in the same situation and are fearful to speak up even though in this country we have “freedom of speech” without reprisal either by government or those corporate entities whose economic power can be as dangerous as that of an absolute monarch.

                 

      

 

 

Thoughts Inspired by the movie "Dallas Buyer's Club"

It has been quite a while since I have seen a movie that has been so thought provoking and inspirational. Usually, I reserve Hollywood for the times that I want to be entertained without a lot of thinking. That’s not to insult Hollywood; I have enjoyed thousands of movies over the years but usually go to books for helping me gain perspective about a situation or current political issue. This movie, however, actually penetrated my subconscious causing me to have a dream that I remembered enough to analyze this morning.

The dream and a Hindu scripture that I read in the Peace Bible this morning helped focus the deeper message of this movie aside from the obvious political issues having to do with a person’s freedom to choose the type and kind of medical treatment he wants, especially for illnesses that the current medical community is unable to treat successfully, and his/her sexual orientation. The dream does not require a particular discussion because its message was purely a personal one for me to use what I had seen to become a better person. The Hindu Scripture bears repeating though, because what it says about hate and its elimination are exactly what I saw in the movie.

Ron Woodruff, the main character is a homophobic drug addict who lives a life whose only purpose is to ride the bulls and spend the money he makes as an electrician for an oil company on alcohol, drugs and sex. That lifestyle eventually leads to contracting the AIDS virus. At this time, the disease was still very much connected to the male gay community reviving the already deeply implanted hate that Ron had for the community. His situation unites him with that group as Ron chooses to disassociate with the “guinea pig” treatment of the doctors he sees and finds help in Mexico. Bringing the “illegal” drugs consisting primarily of non-toxic vitamins, proteins and medications pulls him into an intimate relationship with the very community he so hated. His resulting love for his fellow sufferers is very apparent when his bi-sexual business partner succumbs to the disease and the community comes together to support Ron when he loses his fight with the FDA and IRS. Based on a true story, the movie documents that Ron Woodruff lived for seven years with a disease the doctors told him was going to kill him in 30 days. Who knows how long he might have lived if he had been able to give up drinking? For seven years Ron Woodruff worked alongside the gay community that he had once despised, proving the lesson I read in the following Hindu Scripture.

            Whoever sees all being in himself and himself in all beings does not, by virtue of 

             realization, hate anyone . . .When to that wise sage all beings are realized as

             existing in his own self, then what illusion, what sorrow, can afflict him,

            perceiving as he does the Unity?

Ism Upsanids

In 12 step groups there is a saying, “There but for the grace of God, go I.” In the Christian Scriptures, the prophets caution against judgment –“Judge not, lest ye be judged.”                                    

Life is a Journey Not a Guided Tour

My husband Tom wore a hat that said "Life is a Journey not a Guided Tour." Those words resonated with me after his untimely, sudden death just after we moved to Oregon on our great adventure that would end with our retirement to our home secluded in Ocean Woodlands, a half-acre filled with wild Rhododendron, salal, myrtle wood  trees, huckleberry and blackberry bushes. I had a teaching position at Camp Florence and had intended on working there until retirement while we remodeled our beach cottage and expanded Tom's business idea - Naturally Wild. Nine months after we moved to Florence, Tom was dead at age 55. I had a struggling business, a home with a lot of potential and a job which I dearly loved. Family wanted me to come back to Kentucky but I couldn't leave the job and Tom's unfulfilled dream, so I refinanced the home, surrendered the business, dedicated myself to my career and started building a life for myself in Florence based on my passions and dreams alone for the first time in my life. These were singing, dancing, teaching and writing. I bought a bike and a kayak and found a "home" here until suddenly my whole career and retirement ended when I lost a job due to becoming a whistle blower.

Robert Burns wrote "The best laid plans of mice and men gang aft aglee (often go astray). As I entered one of the darkest periods of my life, I kept rehashing how my plans had always crashed and burned and fell into quite a victim mode that threatened not only my financial well being, but my health as well. During a dark morning on a secluded part of my paper route around Siltcoos Lake as I listened to the natural world coming to life and greeting the sunrise, I remembered the words on Tom's hat and the following poem was the result.

                                                                

                                                               Hills of Home ©

In the summers of her youthful past,

She walked barefoot through the long bladed grass

That grew along the honey-suckled hills of

Her Old Kentucky Home.

And the perfumed air that filled her lungs

Brought a spark of life into her infant soul

Nourished by the wild berries she watched ripen and grow

Into cobblers and homemade ice cream

For summers’ eves with lightening bugs aglow.

But the robin in spring and red bird in winter,

Chirped a call heard deep within her,

To trade her Sunday shoes that walked the straight and narrow path

For sparkling, glass slippers that yearned to roam

In search of love and adventure far from her Old Kentucky Home.

And romance blossomed among the garden paths of Versailles

And the Left Bank of Paris.

But the slippers faded into shimmering moonlight on the Seine,

So she found garden clogs to work the terrain

To build love and contentment with a home of her own

Amid the honey-suckled vines of her Old Kentucky Home.

But the robin in spring and red bird in winter

Chirped a call heard deep within her,

To follow her love to Eldorado and the Seven Cities of Gold

Promised in stories and myths of old.

When that love withered and died in the desert heat,

She donned hiking boots to retreat

With her new love to the lush, green woodlands aside ocean dunes

 Amid quiet streams filled with salmon and the call of the loon.

Left alone in Eden by death’s early knell,

She felt her paradise turning to hell.

But she found solace for her soul biking the salty sea shore

And donned dancing shoes for music and loved once more.

But the strong winds in summer and heavy rains in winter,

Drowned love once more and sent her

Back to the rooted vines that climbed high on the hills

Of her Old Kentucky Home.

Now, in the autumn of her years she roams barefoot once more,

To the song of the robin in spring and red bird in winter

That chirp the secret of unconditional love rooted deep within her

                                  And spreading wide across the hills of her Old Kentucky Home.

After writing the poem, I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to sell my house and move back to Kentucky. The housing market was booming and I stood to make quite a profit but for me, the universe was not ready for the move. I still had some karma - both good and bad - to complete so I took the house off the market, refinanced once again so I could do the final work that needed to be done in order to sell and write a book. The result was "The Peacemaker." Then the housing bubble burst and when I was ready to sell again I was completely under water with my mortgage. I continued to struggle to keep the house by free lance writing to add to my retirement income which was affected by the whistle blowing activity.

 After completion of a ghost writing project and a trip to Hawaii with family in 2012, I made the difficult decision to free myself of the house so that I could move back to the "Hills of Home." While I was waiting for that to happen, I decided to write for myself again. Although free lance writing had paid the bills for me, I had more to create myself - the result was "A Squeaky Wheel Gets Oiled - The Musical" and a short story called "The Season." It is now time for me to move and I know where that will be.

 Although I will probably be in Florence through the summer because of my play, I will be spending a lot of time investigating the purchase of a small plot of land somewhere in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains so that I can put a small log cabin with a loft on it where I can retreat to continue to write and explore the hills of home when I am not traveling. I have learned to set my thoughts and visions around what "feels right" along my journey and follow my heart. As I look back on my journey, I know that everything I experienced along the way was just a building block to where I am today. I no longer feel a victim to the strong winds and currents that come my way because I have learned to "go with the flow" listen to the "call of the robin in spring and red bird in winter" and embrace them as part of what has been the rich experience of my life. As the man was heard saying while falling from a skyscraper "so far so good."   

 

 

Life is a Journey - Not a

Marianne Williamson and The Peacemaker

Malibu, CA. - Speaking at a fundraiser for Andrew Dougherty Vision Foundation (ADVF), co-hosted by Free & Equal Elections Foundation, Marianne Williamson, best-selling author, Congressional Candidate 2014 (Independent, CA-33) endorsed Christina Tobin and the Free & Equal Elections Foundation. Marianne will be a keynote speaker at Free & Equal's upcoming United We Stand Festival at UCLA, May 10th, 2014.

“I agree wholeheartedly with Christina that the chokehold the two major political parties have on our political system right now is, in fact, sucking all the oxygen out of our public discourse.  I think JFK meant it, and I think he was right, when he said, ‘Let us find not the Democratic answer or the Republican answer but the right answer.’ I think the spirit of the American people at our best is not necessarily desirous of being filtered through the dogma of a major political party. Abolition didn’t come from a major political party; women’s suffrage didn’t come from a major political party; the civil rights movement didn’t come from a major political party. There’s a course correction. There’s a yearning of the American heart right now. While the political parties have a role to play—Christina is absolutely right—they were not intended by the founders. They are not even mentioned in our Constitution. George Washington warned us against them. There is something trying to happen in American, and we shouldn’t be limited by anyone or any institution. What Christina is trying to do is pure American, in its most radical sense. Hats off to you, Christina Tobin.”


I am excited to join with Marianne Williamson and promote this event in Los Angeles on May 10, 2014. This summary of what Marianne stands for can be validated by reading the historical accounts of abolition and women's suffrage and the peace movement chronicled in "The Peacemaker" available at http://kentuckywoman.net. Mark your calendars for this event so those of us who are like minded can come together and make a stand against the "choke hold the two major political parties have on our political system right now."