Sunday, September 02, 2007

A Day in Dallas and time wasted at Parkland

Mr Kennedy's limousine was driven at speed to Parklands Hospital immediately after the shooting.
The president was alive when he was admitted, but died at 1400 local time (1900 GMT) - 35 minutes after being shot.






The BBC's "1963: Kennedy shot dead in Dallas" tells you the above. And no wonder he died at Parkland Hospital -- juding by the 'service'. And it is Parkland Hospital, not "Parklands." We'll get to that.





So as Texans for Peace telegraphed repeatedly throughout last week that, though they were staging an event, they really didn't want anyone there, we decided on Friday to fly out.





No one wanted to. No offense to the area or the state, but we all have better things to do. Jim, Dona, Ty, Kat, Jess, Ava and C.I. spent all of last week on the road speaking to students about the illegal war. Wally joined up mid-week when we hit Florida. Elaine and Mike (a couple) were planning on grabbing time during the three day, holiday weekend to actually have some fun and get some really solid time together. Cedric had a family wedding on Saturday and couldn't alter that. But the rest of us decided to go to the event. Friday, as community support for the event cratered (see "How Not To Stage A Rally"), C.I. declared, "I'm going." Ava, Jess and Wally said they'd go as well. Slowly, everyone working on this edition said they'd go too.





No one wanted to because everyone wanted their three day weekend and, as Jim points out, to wake up in our own beds. The ones who had spent last week speaking out against the illegal war were actually on their third trip (except Wally) in three weeks. These were intensive meet ups. Ten scheduled each day with impromptu ones picked up (each day) along the way. Though not everyone went to each one (Kat wrote about skipping an impromptu one on Tuesday), we were all tired. The point of this was that schools were and had started up and we needed to meet with students (we also met with women's groups and labor groups -- on the latter C.I. says thank you to a friend who's been finding those groups for us to speak with) so they were ready for the semester and ready for the White wash reports due on or around the 15th of this month.





Sleep? For those of us on the road, four hours was a luxury.





So the last thing we wanted to do on Friday was to plan a trip for Saturday. We were tired. We were ready to go home.





Instead, in a last ditch effort to try to get some attendance for the Fort Worth non-rally, we decided to go to Dallas. Except for Betty, we all flew in together. (Betty flew in from Georgia.) (Thank you to Flyboy for taking us to Dallas.) We land at the airport, grab some food, some of us get on laptops, some of us are on our cell phones, and we're trying to figure out what we need to do right away (turns out, get the word out that we're going to stay overnight and have a party Saturday evening).





When we go to get some cabs (we took two mini-vans, avoid mentioning the company for a reason we'll get to in a minute), we're hit with the heat. As we're inside them, headed to the hotel, Rebecca explains that there's no way she's taking her baby to Fort Worth to stand out in this heat all day. No one said, "You're wrong!" It was f**king hot. That happened in the second mini-van.





The first was pulling over and waving for the second to pull over. We all get out and there's not time to go to the hotel. We've got to get to Union Station t grab the TRE. The driver of the first cab (we're enroute to the hotel in Dallas) says we can catch the TRE at Parkland and we're closer to that than downtown.





So both cabs head that way. We arrive at Parkland (at the front entrance) and everyone but Rebecca, her baby, Flyboy, Betty's oldest son (her two other children were with her sister back in Georgia) and C.I. get out. The first four are heading on to the hotel. At DFW, a mother had told her young daughter (probably five-years-old) to stop complaining about sweating because "when you sweat, you lose fat. This will keep you skinny." The obese couple passing by as this remark was made gave the mother a look that was priceless.



C.I.? Arguing with the driver. (And was, in fact, right.)





"Why are you dropping us off here?"





We were told you walk straight through Parkland to get to the TRE. None of us have been to Parkland before but C.I. knew it was a huge medical complex and doubted that this 'quick walk' was going to be a 'quick walk.' Jim is insisting it will be fine. (Jim was wrong.) So C.I., shaking the head, joins the rest of us.





Parkland Hospital has a revolving door at the entrance. You better not plan to step in and then change your mind. It just spins around and around. Sort of like the employees.





JFK died there. We're not making fun of JFK. We are saying that really doesn't surprise us. We started at the information desk that is right in front of the entrance. No one there knew anything about the TRE.





Both cabs were gone. We could see them pull off. Jim says, "Let's just walk through."





Oh, Jim. Why do we ever listen to you?





It's a labyrinth. We encountered many desks that were staffed and none could help us.





We'll especially note the two skanks working Children's Medical Hospital's desk. Their badges said "VOLUNTEERS" so it's not like our questions were pulling them away from brain surgery.





"TRE?"





"The train?"





They asked those questions to us blankly.





We asked if they could call someone and find out?





"We're really busy," one replied.





We looked around. No one else was present other than us.





As we left they continued staring straight ahead, at their desk, towards the glass door.





We continued around and around Parkland . . .





The Starbucks was closed. We mention that mainly for anyone who's ever been to Parkland. They may be thinking, "That's on a high floor." Yes, it is. We believe it's the sixth floor. At one point prior, we found an exit and found ourselves in an enclosed area. We then hit the parking garage behind Parkland thinking that would take us out. It did not. There was no street exit. Well, there was one but when we got there (many flights down from the ground level we entered on), we found it was an emergency exit only.





So we went back up to the first elevator we could find. It took us to the Skywalk. Riding with us was a security guard for the hospital (who also works for the Dallas Police Department and was very nice and helpful). On the Skywalk (think enclosed bridge in the air), he pointed to where the TRE was. Right behind Parkland. As the cab driver said. But you didn't just 'walk through' Parkland.





We told him that no one at any information desk had been able to tell us where it was and either acted dumb or said the TRE did not run past Parkland. We would strongly urge the hospital to inform their employees. After passing Starbucks, we find an elevator and head down. Word to Parkland, don't leave your x-rays unattended in the hallway. Jim almost swiped one of the five on a machine in the hallway as a souvenir but decided they might not have been read and might have something serious on them. (This decision was greatly assisted by Elaine who actually stopped Jim as he picked one up.) They were on a machine, for anyone to see and anyone to grab. This was the ground floor but where the hell we were, we have no idea. We believe we weren't far from a room designated "Reading Room" but we could be wrong on that.





We're back with the skanks. One avoids looking us while the other asks, "Did you find out about the train?" The skanks are facing the train. There's the last Parkland building and a parking garage (another one) between them and the train.





We head out the glass doors (there's valet parking there, we paid attention). We ask the man standing at a podium how to get beyond the parking garage. He explains we just follow the sidewalk and it leads straight to the TRE. To the parking valet and the security guard, we say, "Thank you." To all the idiots, especially the two skanks, the TRE conductor (a nice man) explained to Dona that they stop at Parkland because so many people from various points need to visit Parkland for sick relatives and that some employees of Parkland take the TRE to work.





The Parkland stop is just for Parkland. There's nothing else out there really. (Or we didn't see it.) The stop itself is elevated and you've got Parkland on one side of you and a lot of grass (with some stop and sips in the distance) on the other. (It reminded us of a locale in North By Northwest.) We'd missed the first train, we'd heard the train whistle as we approached the valet. (Yes, that is how close it was to the skanks, you can can hear the train whistle.)



The stop itself has benches. There's a set of tracks on either side. Silly us, we thought by standing on the side where the sign said Fort Worth (the other side said DFW), we were on the right side. So when a train going to DFW arrived, we didn't board it.



Turns out, as a woman visiting her brother who'd been attacked last week and was now on a tube explained to us later, we should have gotten on that train. See the train we would board goes to Union Station. Sits there for about ten minutes, then does a loop and comes back down here and then on to Fort Worth (on the other side of where we were sitting -- the train that passed us going to DFW was going to Fort Worth).


Apparently clear signs are a problem in the area.





So finally the train came.





Of the ride, we'll note that there were two levels on the train. It has air conditioning that works. It was very clean. And Betty cursed the fact that Rebecca wasn't with us because the guy (not the conductor but works for the TRE) has "a nice butt." (Dona notes, he was good looking.)





We got off at Union Station (the first stop) because we knew it was holding there for ten or so minutes and then turning around. Dona needed a cigarette.





As we're deboarding, we start seeing community members who've been waiting (and waiting). They're soaked with sweat. That brief time in the train had let us forget how hot it was.





We hear that the train does not run as regularly as Texans for Peace said online. Betty uses that as her excuse to go talk to the guy with the "nice butt." It turns out that we'll be arriving in Fort Worth well after the rally has started. When Betty comes back with the news . . .





We can't hear her. Two kids are nearly hit by the light rail (the local train) because they decide to run across the tracks even though the light rail is moving. After the light rail has moved on, a police officer will come running for the two kids (boys) but they've already ducked inside the TRE and, for some reason, though there's no where else to hide, he doesn't think to look in there as he walks around and around the boarding decks.





Then Betty's able to tell us the news. Community members take it hard.





"You know what?" C.I. asks. "Let's just skip it. Let's just start the party early."





Everyone's all for that.





We surprise Rebecca when we arrive at the hotel. (She's in the conference room where the tables are being set up, supervising.)





The party is last minute. A call from Billie after we're at DFW about how "Almost no one is going" leads to a last minute party. (Which Billie, Diana and Eddie got the word out on.) It was planned to start an hour and a half after the march (which would follow the rally).





Jess, Jim, Ty and Kat leave with community member Juan to get some CDs. (We probably, among all of us, had ten CDs we'd taken on the road.) Juan asks Kat if she wants to see where Dallas' Tower Records used to be so they check that out. ("And it's still empty," Kat notes.) Then they head to Border's which is the closet thing to buy CDs at. (There's a Target at CityPlace -- which may not be spelled right -- but they were looking for something more than the latest album of a few artists and a best of.) Dona, Betty, Mike and Elaine go off for food (they got various food including from Trina's favorite place -- she wrote about it at her site when we all visited Texas in March and we're forgetting it -- we'll note it next week -- Mike is taking back spring rolls and see through noodles for her because she loved the place) while Ava, C.I. and Wally go off for drinks (alcoholic and non-alcoholic). Rebecca runs the early part of the party (with the sixty or so that are already there).



The party lasted until midnight and there were easily over 1,500 guests. Apologies to Texas members who did not get the word. We hadn't planned a party. We hadn't planned to stay in Dallas.


The party was a big success. People talked about Iraq, had some great food (and drinks -- Jim's become an expert at mixing drinks), told jokes, shared, caught up, great tunes, you name it. Did it end the illegal war?



No. Neither did the crappy event in Fort Worth. But at least our spur of the moment party had attendance.


Kat hates our own local Border's and we'll close with the Dallas one. Tiny. Is the staff more helpful? Not when you're waiting in line forever and the three cashiers let you wait while they all stop to answer a middle-aged couple that cut in line to ask about mouse pads. "Mouse pads?" No, they didn't have any. Try Office Depot.


That was not the end of the conversation. As people waited and waited in line, all three had to take part in a conversation about a product that the store didn't carry. Would it have been too much for two of the cashiers to break away from the discussion and start taking paying customers? Apparently so.


"Mouse pads" and "mouse rugs" (Kat says the guy who thought he was in charge behind the counter liked to toss around "mouse rugs" in place of "mouse pads") being discussed with two people who were going to leave the store without purchasing anything was more important than waiting on the long line of customers. Kat also notes that they have a "crappy and right-wing heavy" magazine stock. She didn't see International Socialist Review. She asked a clerk (not a cashier) about that and he told her they must have sold out which surprised him (it's the Hugo Chavez cover issue) because "no one ever buys The Nation." No, no one ever does.


Kat also wants it noted that they have an elevator, however, their stair steps are too close together and too far up. ("That's not just Kat's complaint," adds Ty. "And because in the middle of the steps there's a landing that they've decided is the perfect spot for a display, if someone's coming down when you're going up, you have to stop to let them pass.")