Karl Rove is pretty smart. He must think that skeletons in the Bush closet won't matter no matter how dirty the campaign gets because the voters will stay away from the polls in disgust which should help his man. Unfortunately, as the President himself reminded us recently, he is a “War President” And during this war troops are dying and people are losing their sons and daughters in what has been revealed to be a fraud from the beginning. All led by a Commander In Chief who may have failed to complete the mission he signed up for 30 years ago but who still likes to put on the uniform and strut his stuff. How many in Iraq are wishing they could just bug out and come home early?

Sincerely,

Jefrey Ruha
Minneapolis

Responding to “Somali gangs: fact or fiction?”

Call me Egg Plant. A second time, notorious people, behaving badly, have dragged me into the media spotlight. I'm the bartender from the Viking Bar who was mugged.

Yes, they were Somali. Three Somali teens. It was after their curfew, about 1:20 a.m., on the last Sunday of 2002.

The attack began in front of 1905 5th St. So. The older two said something to the youngster—barely five feet tall. They were in front of the Somali wire service that was wrongly raided after 9/11/01. I recognized the language and tone of voice from when I'd coached basketball to 30 to 40 Somali young men at the Brian Coyle Center gym a few years earlier. Add at least fifty more Somali young men I've had positive experiences with, and I couldn't recognize these three.

That's one reason I didn't file a police report. It would have done no good. It would only benefit the officious anti-youth, anti-Somali, statistics-hungry contingent of do-nothing overreactors.

The attack ended in front of 429 19th Ave. So. Where the Barber Building used to be. A Puerto Rican pulled them off of me seconds before several Euro-Americans, an African American, and a Native American interceded.
They aided me peacefully. Thugs boast. Later, the Somali community disciplined my attackers—corporally, in-kind. The care of my friends and the ice in my freezer were the only emergency aid I needed, and why I refused to go to the emergency room. All this makes me happy.

Over the years I have, twice, thrust my stomach between a drawn pistol and friends of mine. Twenty-something times I have pushed my shoulders between husband and wife—or their facsimiles—as they were about to punch each other. Several dozen times I have broken up fights. But, most memorable were both times I've helped diffuse bottle riots, or muggings, where up to fifty Somalis were throwing bottles at one or more other Somalis. They said it was a clan thing.
Every spring a new group of youth think they are going to "take over the neighborhood," violently, until their elders teach them otherwise. With or without police and parental help. After four years it boggles how Somali adults seem to think others must parent their kids.

Robberies, muggings and other cowardly Somali mob actions persist. Late in 2001 my roommate was robbed—about 50 feet from where I was mugged—on her way to work at a local East African restaurant and bar. She has no doubt they were Somali.

She filed a police report, which puts her in a small percentage of victims. Of those, she's in the majority. She's still disappointed with how dismissive and patronizing the police were with her.

What disappoints me is official spokespeople accusing victims and witnesses of racism. Throughout the 1980s and '90s I gave my community 3,000 hours a year, often more, mostly "baby-sitting" other peoples' children, mentoring them, teaching them productive skills, quality behaviors. It bothers me that a handful of thugs receive blanket amnesty as victims; The Twinkie Defense. If confuses me that, after decades of using it as a petty charge, the police now justify youth loitering. It frustrates me that each spokesperson didn't see that claiming that loitering, or congregating as an exclusively Somali habit is the height of racist thinking. But, it angers me that the hand-sitters will continue to blame and pronounce, and do nothing with their free time.

Such feelings spur me to action. So, I lay this challenge before Somali, police and other official community members: take personal action. If you need ideas or suggestions, do what you like, what you know. Grab a ball and join them in the park.

If you need a specific idea then help me organize, promote and sustain foot races in Riverside Park. Every Tuesday evening and Saturday we could hold cross country races for all ages, from 50 meters to 5,000 meters. Rosey Vogan at the Park District can help. The coaches at Augsburg College and area high schools can help with logistics and materials. Even if you know nothing of running, you can give your time.

A disclaimer: I support Burt Berlowe's journalism. I have since I was the advertising manager of The Surveyor newspaper, from 1984-86 and Burt became a contributing reporter. From 1988-92 I was on the board of the West Bank Community Development Coporation—the middle three years its Treasurer—and think Burt's firing from The Seward Profile was a politically motivated disgrace. That city officials could compel his dismissal impairs journalistic independence. Of that other media spotlight, please don't slander me by calling me King Pin, not of any times, nor of Hard Times.

Sincerely,

Marty Johnson
Minneapolis