Revival

The first demonstration that I can remember was when my mother took me to the New York waterfront to join her labor group. We carried signs asking the President to stop sending scrap Iron and other war materials to Japan. It was shortly after Japan signed the Anti-Comintern Pact with Nazi Germany.
Since my discharge from the Navy in December of 1945 and the time spent with college and bar hopping, it seems my life was one long battle. Progressive Party, Korean War, Civil rights, Vietnam War, Zionism, and all stops in between. Would I trade it for a life of security in my little cubby at the insurance company? No, but I hold no malice toward those that seek that security. Most of them are good family people and are needed just as farmers and carpenters and others are needed, but my genes were bent in another direction.
The following essays are a synopsis of an activist’s quest for truth. I have always held the belief that Secretary Dag Hammarskjold so beautifully articulated, "In our era the road to holiness necessarily passes through the world of action."
David Truskoff

The years go by and the struggle is endless.
Sometimes it all seems so senseless.
Demonstrations, marches, tear gas and jail,
Ten days the judge says and you can’t make bail.
School chums wonder what made you who you are.
And how can you make the payment on the new car?
They patronize and admit that you are right,
But, they, "can’t afford" to get into the fight.
"How long," King asked, "not long he answered"
The audience repeated, "not long, not long"
and I knew that I was where I belong.
The empire is crumbling, but it’s a good thing
because the mendacious are frightened, panic has set in.
Will I have to share they wonder. What will tomorrow bring?
Peace and freedom for all, the whole world will sing.
Was it all worth it? fighters for justice may ask,
No problem for me to answer, You bet your ass.
David Truskoff