March
3, 2008
Anthony
Guarisco: a severe
Alzheimer’s patient whose memories are quickly drifting away . .
.
A WWII and Korea Navy Combat Veteran who founded and directed
the International Alliance of Atomic Veterans (IAAV with AAV here in the
US).
Mary C Guarisco: 1934 – 2007
AAV Cofounder, Executive Secretary, Board Member, loving mother and OZ
protector for us kids.
"The secret of a good life is to have the right
loyalties and hold them in the right scale of
values." ~ Norman Thomas 1884 –
1968
Over the years, I have written many essays on a whole variety of
subjects, all of which I felt were important. But none came remotely
close to hitting home as this one has. Undeniably, the following
pages are the hardest I will ever attempt to write in my lifetime. This
piece has been on my computer for almost a year now -- and I cannot
begin to tell everyone how many times I have rewritten it time and
again. Point blank, enough can never be said about those we dearly love
and respect. For me, It would require a very thick book to truly give my
parents the honorable tribute they so wholeheartedly deserve. And, who
knows, perhaps some day I will. Having said that, I will start this off
with a few things both of them would appreciate -- just a few
little thoughtful things that meant so much to them and us in the
family. Does anyone remember the following quote?
"Ill get you my pretty! And . . . your little dog too!" ~
The Wicked Witch of the East threatening Dorothy in "The
Wizard of Oz."
Yes, of course we do . . . I think just about everyone on the planet has
seen this film classic. Well, just like everything these days -- movies,
plays, music, etc. -- everything has a different meaning to each of us,
as individuals. Once in a while, a Hollywood film is not only
entertaining, but it captures our domestic moral quest in surreal
human form. For me, "The Wizard of Oz" is just that, a
phenomenal measure of good over evil, a valuable imperative for us to
acquire the needed essentials to build character for overcoming
life’s many challenges. This movie, and its message-point, will
undoubtedly continue giving long after I’m gone . . . and rightfully
so.
I will never forget, as a young boy, the first time I watched this old
family classic with mom and dad. I was trembling with fear
when the wicked witch glaringly threatened Dorothy (quoted above).
Mom, with a loving smile, got down on her knees and kissed away a
tear that was streaming down my cheek. Then, dad tenderly placed his
hand on my shoulder as mom placed hers over my heart and whispered in my
ear: "Son, don’t be afraid, we will always be here with you .
. . you are never alone, our hearts beat as one. There are many scary
things to face in life, but your father and I will show you how to see
past this to find the beauty and glory just beyond."
Feeling much better, I gazed up at both of them (with a big smile)
knowing I had found that beauty. In the Wizard of Oz, Dorothy had to
click her ruby slippers to find her way home. Not me. All I ever have to
do is simply place my hand over my heart to know "I’m already
there."
Yes, we truly are fortunate to have had them as parents. I say this
because we entered the scary land of perpetual Oz better prepared because
we had wise and loving parents as our sentimental guide, blessing
us with several hearts beating as one. In truth, it turned out to be the
one gift that will last a lifetime. Underneath it all -- I guess I
always was a softy -- I was after all, mom’s small bundle of
joy born on her birthday back in 1959.
My parents truly are to me what is best remembered in life. As a
high-strung kid always on the go, they constantly reminded me to slow
down, take a good look around and enjoy the small, thoughtful
things that mean so little to most. Both took the philosophical view
that happiness could not be demanded from life. They taught us
that such things as inner peace and harmony and "being
loved" compiled the essential passport. But as the years
rolled by, I observed something else too. For them -- true happiness
also meant giving themselves completely for a worthy purpose or cause to
help others. In doing so, I now understand they both achieved a higher
sphere of "excellence" worthy of noting as they won the hearts
and minds of those who had the pleasure of interacting with them. Their
mission in life was to ease the suffering of those they could. They were
the voice for those in society who seemingly had no voice at all.
And their bio speaks for itself . . . it’s monumental! But before we
get to that, I want to share a few more aspects of how they molded us
kids into the people we later became.
The message we heard was loud and clear: If common sense is an
idea worth having once -- is it not worth having twice?
Indeed, thanks to them, we learned to accept responsibility for our own
decisions in life, the well from which self respect springs. With
a tender hand, our parents taught us to always walk the path
upright knowing that with each persistent storm blowing our compass in
disarray usually brings a colorful rainbow trailing not far behind
-- if we are patient and our vision is not limited, narrow or oblique.
Mother loved to say, "Happiness is our own delightful reflection
caressing us in our dreams, but before we can truly find it, we must
first awaken and see it within." Words to live by . . . and
father firmly admired a quote by Voltaire – "Those who can make
you believe absurdities, can make you commit atrocities." A hard
fact learned by him when the military industrial complex used him as a
guinea pig after he served his country so valiantly. A defining moment
that produced a lifetime of activism . . . .
In addition, my parents taught us to never worry about seeing the end of
the journey, but to simply enjoy the trip while traveling. And we all
laughed together when Truman Capote said, "Life is a moderately
good play with a badly written third act." Whew, both of
them were so down to earth! They kept it real in every way imaginable.
They loved having fun, loved reading, laughing, loved music
including rock groups, such as Pink Floyd, especially their "The
Dark Side of the Moon" and "The Wall" albums. They dug
the heck out of it! Both of them were totally 'hip' to say the
least. But most important, they truly enjoyed the company of
family and friends and always cherished the time we spent together.
In looking back on all the decades of wear that can sometimes grind with
unsettling madness, through it all, we somehow found our own personal
calling. And just as all life experiences play out in this torrid time
of maniacal misgivings, our family adventure was no munchkin paradise
simply filled with holographic picnic pleasantries. Yes, we definitely
had our fair share of yellow brick road madness riddled with many trials
and tribulations along the way. Indeed, our great Oz forest was always
laden with many masters of the universe who have consistently had
one cold, callous hand on the nation’s pulse with the other on
the trigger ready to destroy the world at a moment's notice. Sadly,
this has always been and probably will remain the environment in which
our children and grandchildren must live.
But we were luckier than most. My parents understood empty
minds are easily manipulated, so they taught us history and pushed
education, which they believed was the foundation for creating a better,
peaceful society and nation. They did their best to prepare us for the
many obstacles that life can sometimes put in front of us. They held
nothing back from us and told us everything good or bad that we may have
to face in life. They told us true stories of how our leaders often
betrayed us and how they sometimes serve their own selfish goals. They
shared the truth, no matter what road that took us on. More
important, they taught us never to be fooled or manipulated
into doing anything that we knew in our heart was against the high
principles of our beliefs. And, they taught us to redirect our energy
and knowledge into positive ways in order to create meaningful lives,
not only for ourselves, but for those around us.
But the years roll by so fast, and no one lives forever. They say the
most difficult task we’ll ever face in life is losing our loved
ones. This is so true. I will never forget just before my mother passed
away, she gave one final piece of advise. As instructed, I
put my head next to hers and she whispered, "Son, always
cherish the happy, little moments in life, because later on, they make a
much better cushion in old age." The next day . . . she
passed away in her sleep.
The following day was equally dreadful. I was given the hard task of
informing my father of the devastating news that mom had died.
Although, father does not remember much of anything these days, we both
cried together in our terrible moment of sadness. Before I left
the healthcare facility, I glanced back at him and gave him a great big
smile . . . wanting him to only remember this expression on my face.
And for the first and 'only' time in my life, I was relieved he was
infected with Alzheimer’s disease that had erased his memories.
Because I did not want him to mourn. For mom was as precious to him as
life itself. I will always believe that sparing him the grief
of losing her was a gift from above.
Someone once told me that God has a special love for those kindred souls
taken in their sleep. I choose to believe this is true. And so it is,
the sweet violin is now laid to rest having strung its final note. The
candle has now dimmed for one great pioneer of love and truth.
Mary C. Guarisco, born in 1934 in the heartland of Nebraska, passed away
in May, 2007. Mary lived in the West Arizona Desert by the banks
of the Colorado River for most of her last 40 years of life. She now
rests peacefully with her parents in the oldest section of Rose
Hills Cemetery located on a beautiful green hilltop in Southern
California. Her headstone has the following inscription: "Mother is
Love in the Eyes of God." May she find peace and harmony with
continued joy while dancing among the stars in God’s paradise. And may
my father’s lost memories find their way through the gates of heaven
reaching the one person he most dearly loved.
As I sit here blinded by tears, I must confess -- the real
lesson here is not to make you feel sad or mourn, but to "inspire."
Both Mary and Anthony Guarisco unselfishly devoted most of their lives to
many facets of social activism, always striving to better our society
for a kinder, more caring and peaceful prosperity. In part, this
essay is a small tribute to honor their legacy, their lifetime
achievements and hard work. But it is also a heartfelt plea
for you to see the higher mission in life by not just taking, but giving
back that which we all at times take for granted. This is the
essence of what they stood for.
Anthony Guarisco enlisted in the Navy in 1944, serving one year of WWII
in the Pacific and the early days of the Korean War. It changed his life
forever. In 1947, Anthony was attached to the 32nd Destroyer Division
and conducted Special Forces combat operations from Fusan, Korea, to the
Manchurian border, aboard the USS Buckley, DD808. But before his Korean
experience, the full impact of nuclear weapons became part of his big
picture at Bikini Atoll in 1946 in "Operation Crossroads."
For those of you not familiar with this hideous event, Operation
Crossroads was a series of two 23-kiloton plutonium atomic bomb tests in
which the US government used 42,000 of its own uniformed citizens as
guinea pigs. Each bomb was twice the size of the one that
destroyed Hiroshima. My father was six to seven miles
away from the B-29 airdrop of "Able," which exploded at 520
feet above a target array of 80 vessels. Troops entered the lagoon
immediately after. Damage assessment took several weeks, then
"Baker" was detonated underwater, producing a radioactive
mushroom cloud 6,000 feet high. My father had been two to four miles
away from ground zero on LST388. Within a few days, post-Baker, he
experienced what is now recognized as a radiation sickness. He remained
in the lagoon 67 days within a mile of the epicenter of both explosions.
Upon his return to Pearl Harbor, my father was ordered aboard the
hospital ship USS Haven for examination, evaluation and treatment for
skin rashes, and severe symptoms similar to influenza. It’s worthy to
note, LST388 was too "hot" with radiation to enter port so,
after transferring the men, a decision was made to sink the ship
outside of Hawaii.
In
1948, he entered Hines VA Hospital in Maywood, IL, with the same
symptoms plus a swelling resembling elephantiasis from the knees down. Interestingly,
my father found himself in a room with three other Crossroads vets at
Hines with similar radiation symptoms: bone deterioration leading to a
leg amputation, complete hair loss, fever and welts. After treatment,
therapy and release, his spine began to progressively fuse from
Ankylosing Spondylitis and persisting urological disorders. In 1979, my
father helped formulate the National Association of Atomic Veterans (NAAV)
as an organization. Later, he became national research director.
Among my parents studies was the Stanford Warren Papers on Operation
Crossroads that contained one of the big smoking guns of the nuclear
weapons industry. Working with then Illinois congressman Paul Simon,
they participated in the original writing of PL9772: legislation
that allowed atomic veterans to enter any VA hospital for treatment.
Anthony and Mary Guarisco established outreach to atomic veterans
in Canada, Britain, and Australia and they founded the International
Alliance of Atomic Veterans (IAAV with AAV) in the United States. Working
with Greenpeace in 1984, they organized a cross-country tour for
veterans, widows and children to many major cities, which culminated with
joining other radiation victims worldwide. The action drew national
attention to the Nevada Test Site and the beginning of major opposition
to all atomic testing. In 1986, IAAV made contact with the Soviet War
Veterans Committee in Moscow and my father returned several times,
afterwards.
Mary accompanied Anthony, who testified numerous times in the US
Congress and the parliaments of Canada and Great Britain. In fact,
Calif. Sen. Alan Cranston, then chairman of the Senate Veterans Affairs
Committee, recognized that AAV was "extremely instrumental" in
the groundbreaking 1988 legislation that granted presumption of
cause-effect to all atomic veterans. Anthony spoke out at
anti-nuclear demonstrations in the US, Netherlands, Canada, Japan,
Germany, UK, and former USSR. Both Anthony and Mary organized
with other radiation victims from Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the Four
Corners Uranium Mines, Southwest Desert Downwinders, Three Mile Island,
Chernobyl and Commonwealth Edison of Illinois. Much of their work was
with other veterans' organizations, such as Veterans for Peace, Veterans
Peace Action Teams, and Vietnam Veterans Against the War. They collaborated
with Agent Orange fighters like Maude De Victor, a courageous famed
whistleblower.
In 1986, IAAV organized the 40th anniversary reunion of Crossroads
veterans in Chicago. In that same year, my parents worked with the
Great Peace March. In 1987, they attended the first Global Conference of
Radiation Victims in New York City. Anthony has been a member of
the Radiation Victims Roundtable in Washington, D.C. since 1983 and they
both coordinated with the National Committee of Radiation Victims. With
such groups as Citizens Against Nuclear Power and Weapons and
People Against Radioactive Dumping, Anthony (with Mary’s assistance)
has spoken out against nuclear power and weapons, and nuclear waste
dumping from Zion, Illinois to Ward Valley, California. They are both
known as an anti-nuke activists throughout the Southwest. Moreover, in
1984 they staked a claim for a placer gold mine dead center on the site
of U.S. Ecology’s (USE) planned nuclear burial ground, in Ward
Valley -- an action that was instrumental in stopping USE dead in its
tracks.
Despite the paralysis in my father’s spine, my parents performed
Direct Actions against continued nuclear weapons testing and production,
and he was arrested at the Nevada Test Site on three separate
occasions. They organized with the American Peace Test, SANE/Freeze,
Infact’s G.E. Boycott, and other organizations, making outreach to
individual veterans and groups. Anthony and Mary also
developed new ties with atomic veterans in the National Association of
Radiation Survivors. AAV also called for an action at the Nevada
Test Site (NTS) on November 11, 1991 -- Veterans Day. Another
successful project was Nobody’s Wasteland Atomic Veterans Camp and
Desert Tortoise Refuge that eventually stopped USE at Ward Valley for
good.
Media work included interviews on Donahue, Good Morning America,
Latenight Detroit and Studs Terkel, author of The Good War.
They helped producer Robert Stone with historical material on
Operation Crossroads for 'Radio Bikini,' which was nominated for the
1988 Oscar for best documentary. Anthony was inspiration for
photojournalist Jim Lerager and is featured in Lerager’s "In the
Shadow of the Cloud." My parents' activism has been quoted in
newspapers in Japan, Korea, Latin America, USSR, and elsewhere. New
Zealand’s equivalent of "60 Minutes" produced a segment
about the alliance and the New Zealand occupation forces of Hiroshima
and Nagasaki. AAV developed the atomic Veterans History Project
that entailed a video production demonstrating the involvement of atomic
veterans -- in their own words.
Just last year (2007), well-known author and media critic Norman Solomon
paid tribute to my father in his newly published book, "Made Love,
Got War." In addition, Solomon is a past spokesperson for IAAV/AAV,
and on more than one occasion has said my father gave him great
inspiration. He also offered kind words to me for my mother’s loss and
acknowledged how hard she worked and that she was always kind to him and
everyone with whom she came in contact.
But as I said before, time catches up with everyone. And as their health progressively
got worse Anthony and Mary Guarisco both retired from activism in
2001, closing IAAV/AAV. In 1935, Will Rogers said: "We
can’t all be heroes because somebody has to sit on the curb and clap
as they go by." I speak for my whole family when I say
we hope that all those clapping on the sidelines will read this essay
and become inspired enough to actively participate in doing everything
they can to improve our nation and society. I like what Bob Dylan
said, "I think a hero is someone who understands the degree of
responsibility that comes with his freedom." I
couldn’t have said it better myself.
Sadly, all things must end, and that’s the ultimate price for living.
Undeniably, I say again, this is the hardest essay I will ever attempt
to write in my lifetime. I once read: Death is more universal
than life; everyone dies but not everyone lives. How true.
Fortunately, nothing fell short in that department for my parents.
They both lived life to its up-most fullest -- always sharing their love
with everyone around them, always eager to laugh, to have fun and always
thoughtful and kind in putting the needs of others before their own. In
every element of living, both Anthony and Mary compassionately gave
life "one heck of ride!"
I will not even try to hide the fact that a box of empty tissues is
sitting right next to me by my keyboard. And would add, it’s a good
thing its made of mostly plastic . . . or it would have surely rusted by
now. The following is pure emotion for me, but I feel compelled to share
my final thoughts with you -- My parents were my best friends, my
dream makers, and their combined love kept our family 'binder' as tightly
woven as one magical book.
For that alone I will always be grateful.
Each time I gaze upon the polished, black granite marker that contains a
tile picture of my mother, it takes my breath away. I am momentarily
frozen as I lose myself in the stillness of it. And for a while, time
virtually stands still for me as I embrace the memories we shared
together. As I see my own reflection blend with hers, I slowly close my
eyes and feel a real sense of spiritual togetherness in this quiet holy
resting place. A feeling that is also extended in the same way as I sit
with my father holding his hand, even though he does not remember I am
his son. But I know he’s my father and that is enough.
Yes, I weep with a real sense of loss for both of them. But it uplifts my
spirit to know deep within my soul that I am never alone,
never lonely, because in my heart (beating with them) is the essence of
who they are. And that will always flow inside of me. A kind of
'conscience gathering' held dear for what is best remembered in life.
