Tuesday, September 29, 2009

A kid from the National Guard came by this afternoon.  They found Gil.  He was in the Convention Center and never had a chance to get out.

I’m sorry about my rant last night.  It wasn’t logical, it served no purpose to scream into the internet.

I’m mostly just numb.


From what we’ve heard, things are getting really strange out west of the city.  A bunch of New Yorkers have seized the bridges over the Hudson all the way up to Albany.  Governor Paterson is apparently saying that he won’t allow his state to serve as a base for government terror.  After 9/11 and the Halloween attacks, New Yorkers have some special moral high ground to preach about bombing civilians in cities.

I don’t know what it will do.  The US units in Connecticut hold pretty much the whole state except places where there aren’t enough people to matter.  Everywhere between here and there is essentially lawless.

Where does a government lawyer fit in here?

I find myself just going over our inventory of food and supplies over and over.  

I’ve gotta go, April’s awake again.  I just pray she doesn’t ask for Paw-Paw again…not sure I can deal.


Monday, September 28, 2009

They’ve called off the search for survivors for the night.  Maybe they’ll look more come the dawn.  Clark and I headed back to Davis Square when the head of the recovery efforts declared that they weren’t going to be using the big floodlights tonight like they did last night.  They’re afraid that the lights will attact more attention from the US planes that were buzzing Southie all day.


I’d tired.  I’m burned (literally in ca couple of places).

The Convention Center in Southie is a smoldering wreck…mostly a crater.  (some guy in uniform said there are at least four different craters but I can’t see it).  

But they’re still pulling the living out.  

And they want to stop looking.  Dammit, MY FATHER’S IN THERE!

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Why did he have to be at that blagglefest?  Yeah, cause standing on a stage telling the guys with the bombs have no right to be there is going to make the LESS like ly to hit you.  What kind of logic is that?

The place stunk.  They said it was mostly burning plastic and insulation, and maybe some of it was from when I puked…

I losst track of Clark for a while there.  All i could think was that Neve was gonna shoot me with that shotgun of hers if I got her father killed too.

I’m not making any sense.  Like any of this does.

Fuck it.  You want the city, come take the god-damn city.  It’s not like Boston, like New Engalnd ever was athreat to the world’s only super-power and the assholes who run it.  Just take what you want and let us go back to having our heads in the sand.

Except I want my father.  After everything we went througn back in December, he’s got to still be alive.

Yeah right.  To hell with you all.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Does anyone know anything about wha the hell happened?!

Paul and my dad are trying to get downtown right now. I begged them not to go, the whole fucking city looks like it’s on fire. I would have sat on Paul if Dad wasnt’ with him. Dad’s very level headed.

The men in uniforms on the street say it’s just a fire, that they fire department is on it, but no fire eversounded like that, damnit. KABOOM! They are fucking bombing Boston! 

If you know what’s going on, please please call me. If you have heard from Gil, please call. The cells seem to be up, Paul calls every fifteen minutes. We can’t reach Gil, though. 

The news is coming in really garbled. NPR says that they are trying to get a man on the scene, something about Southie being a mad house. Gil’s at the convention center in Southie and I am terrified that Paul is going down there and going to try to get past all those angry old mobsters and those terrible old bridges. 

If you know anything, please CALL!

Sunday, September 27, 2009

As predicted, things have gone from bad to worse. My folks arrived last night with most of their possessions… but not all. Apparently they got charged “tolls” for entering the city and when they didn’t have the cash, the men with the guns took jewelry instead. Mom lost her pearls, her wedding ring, her emerald earrings, and some costume stuff she had in a box that was clearly visible from the street. They also took my dad’s wedding ring.

Her engagment ring, her mother’s pearls, my grandmother’s locket, and several gold chains were all in a pouch in her purse. She kept those. 

They arrived to find me hauling my self out to the kitchen for another night with The Shotgun Brigade. (That’s what the three of us with guns have started calling ourselves. Gallows humor.) My dad — he used to be a Ranger a very long time ago — heard what I was doing, reached into the trunk of his car, and pulled out his hunting rifle and then insisted on joining me. 

There was a very long line outside of the kitchen warehouse when we got there and people screamed some awful things at me for “cutting the line.” When I waved my gun and tried to explain that I worked there, they just got angrier. 

There were several attempts to rob the place and one partially succeeded. A large group of angry men rushed us at about midnight. I was angry enough and tired enough that I swear I think I was about to fire. My dad stopped me. He’s a rock.

They got away with several boxes of food. Mostly cereal and some canned veggies. 

If they were starving, if they were hungry people trying to feed their families, I wouldn’t be so livid. But they are just stupidly frightened (or maybe frightened stupid) and scrabbling food to hoarde. They probably have plenty of food still at home, but it’s like those bank runs this time last year — once people start to lose faith, it all comes down like a house of cards. 

And the thing is, I really feel like they raided us just to be doing something. They feel everything going to hell and instead of just hunkering down, they feel like they need to DO something. So they steal food. Which causes this whole cascade of mistrust. 

Dad and I arrived home just an hour ago. We’re going to sack out now that the rest of the folks are up and about. Good thing, too. There weren’t enough beds for all of us to sleep at once. Gil’s off to the convention — Paul says he’s frothing at the mouth about everything, about the betrayal of the people. We’re frankly a little worried about his heart. Or a stroke. 

I’m going to bed.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

The house is quiet, the streets are desserted, there are no lights in the city. 

Over the summer, with clear skies and warm nights, the darkness didn’t seem so odd. I was raised in the country with no streetlights — I’m used to that absolute black. But fall blew in on a storm two days ago that knocked out all the electricity and had us all pulling out the wool sweaters. Between the heavy cloud cover and the fact that no one wants to put a light in the window, and the fact that dawn doesn’t come until 6:30….

I feel like it’s all coming apart at the seams.

I was awake to see the early morning dark because I got tapped to guard the kitchen warehouse last night. Apparently, I’m one of three people in the whold staff who can use a gun without blowing my foot off. With the General gone, things have gone from got to bad to HOLY FUCK pretty damned quick. We’ve got people from the outlying ‘burbs pouring into the cities on the rumour that it’s better here. We’ve got people from the city leaving for… I don’t know where. In the day time, it’s confusing but still normal. New-normal, but it was safe on the streets. The rumours were flying fast — the General’s daughter being held at Gitmo, troops on the Mass./R.I. border, spaceships at MIT (which really wasn’t the most ridiculous thing we’d heard, believe it or not) — and people we gathering at any public space to talk, natter, worry, debate, argue. 

Once the sun went down last night though, with no electricity, it got bad. There were roving gangs of looters and roving gangs of “neighborhood watch” types trying to defend their little chunck of city, and roving squads of military types who are trying to protect everyone but don’t have a command structure right now. 

I know all of this because I spent the night sitting at the warehouse with a loaded shotgun, some emergency flares, a bullhorn, and an extra-strong cup of the last coffee in the city. Happily, in Cabridge at least, guns are pretty damned rare among the general population and the Neighborhood Watch types and the looters were mostly unarmed. And there’s really nothing quite as frightening in the dark as the sound of a double-barreled shotgun being ratched. Most folks would give up. Things died out about midnight, happily.

We did let one group of armed types with uniforms take some food. Not a lot, but we weren’t sure that they weren’t actually the military types. I miss the General.

Today is going to be tough. Tonight is going to be tougher. If I wasn’t so wired and tired, I’d be panicking.

My folks called on the cell last night. They and their dogs are on their way up today. They are putting as much food in the car as my dad can manage. I asked them to bring dad’s hunting rifles, too. And I told them to come in the daylight only and on backroads only. It’s going to be a tight fit with them and Gil. Not that we’ve seen Gil in three days, what with the “convention” going into overdrive. 

Avery was a little white around the eyes this morning as she took over guard duties, talkinga bout her relatives in Kansas. She’s sort of the driving force that holds this little kitchen together and if she bugs out… 

I’m so tired.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

They announced the deal.  General Carlson is in exile (welcomed by Portugal if by nobody else).  A Committee on Reconciliation comprising a bunch of ‘luminaries’ and four of the six New England governors is coordinating with US authorities to investigate the Capitol bombing and ‘ensure law and order in the Region.’

It’s a sell-out.  There are already US Army troops in parts of Connecticut.  The Groton sub-base is one of the first places to again fall under US sovereignty.

Don’t believe the media that all of this is going smoothly though.  At least one convoy in the Berkshires got bushwhacked this morning.  I also heard that a US delegation to be sent to Boston was called back because of ‘worries over security on the ground.’

Gil is frothing at the mouth.  On this I agree.  These people, especially the military ones, don’t have the authority to be negotiating let alone capitulating to US thuggishness.  Gil of course is focused on the ‘representatives of the people’ convened for the Constitutional Convention.  He’s all geared-up for that group to assert that it is the only true government on the USNE.

I don’t know about all of New England, but it sounds like the conventioneers have the moral and political high ground here in Boston.  I don’t suppose they care much up in Maine, but I’m not sure they cared about us cityfolk at any point in the past year.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

The rumors are flying furiously here in Boston and in the blogosphere.  But this one I believe.

On relatively good authority, I’ve heard that General Carlson has left New England.  An Air France 747 bound for the Azores left Logan early this morning with no filed passenger list.  Supposedly General Carlson, his family, and few of his lieutenants were on the flight.

Somebody cut a deal and I get the feeling we here in Boston are the ones getting hung out to dry.