OccupyDC: As I See It
is ready to be ordered. You can preview the book in it's entirety on this page before you make your decision to help OccupyDC. The encampment has morphed into a vigil now, but supplies and help are still needed. The profits from the sale of the book will be shared with OccupyDC to help them buy food and other supplies as they carry on the work to raise Americans' awareness of the political and economic crisis facing this country.
The book is available in three formats and would make a great item to have and to look at again and again as America decides what to do about the fall and winter of 2011 when 24,000 Americans took to the streets, parks and squares to let Washington D.C. know that things need to change.
Thanks for your help in support in buying the book and thanks for the thousands of emails and words of encouragement while I lived for four months with the protesters in McPherson Square, site of OccupyDC.
From the Introduction
For four months I lived with the protesters in McPherson Square. The encampment known around the world as “OccupyDC” was located 3 blocks from The White House and about twelve blocks from The Capital in the other.
Making the decision to cast my lot with them and become totally “embedded” with the occupiers was the best decision I could have made. Living with them 24/7 I was given access to the day-to-day routine, planning, protesting and actions that were denied to members of the mainstream media who would only come two or maybe three times a week. Because they always saw me, they grew to trust me. Because they trusted me I was included – I became one of “them”.
The months from October 2011 until February 2012 when the encampment was, in effect, raided by the National Park Service Police were difficult ones. While that fall and winter in Washington D.C. was unusually mild, there was plenty of cold, rain, wind and some snow. Many nights were spent wrapped beneath two sleeping bags with a blanket on top of that. Still the nights when the temperatures hit the teens were bitter, cold and always lonely.
I was there through the protest at The Air and Space Museum, saw first hand the violence at The Convention Center, witnesses the takeover of Franklin School, had a front row seat for the infamous “Night of the Barn”, enjoyed a Thanksgiving dinner at The New York Avenue Presbyterian Church, celebrated Christmas on The Green, spent New Year’s Eve alone and freezing and was there for part of the camp “take down” by the National Park Police. I missed much of the final day – the eviction, if you will – because I was picked up and detained for 48 hours by law enforcement and no one has explained to this day why.