Our Community Under Siege

Of course, the Constitution and the Bill of Rights offer refuge, but the reality is that they are Olympian ideals that grow suddenly distant when most needed. Arizona's prisoners' rights lawsuit, Hart vs. Hill, is 30 years in the courts with no resolution is sight. This paper's brief act of defiance cost us a quarter of a million dollars in legal fees, hardly a viable option for most. The federal government failed to pass laws that address the very real problems associated with illegal aliens. A vacuum ensued. Race-baiters, Thomas and Arpaio, filled the void and cater now to an angry mob, despite the fact that migrants enjoy the same Constitutional rights as the rest of us.

People must resist.

Lawyers are necessary. Courts are a refuge. The laws of government are a foundation.

But people must resist.

In a discussion about Thomas, Arpaio and Wilenchik, and their treatment of the "others," Bender did not mince words: "If law enforcement got the idea they could attack enemies who criticize, that's extremely dangerous . . . if they succeed in terrorizing people it becomes a crisis . . . I cannot imagine what was on Wilenchik's mind . . . very, very, far out assertions . .  . virtually bizarre . . . gross violation of the First Amendment . . . the Sheriff's roundup of immigrants, very questionable . . ."

Bender's solution is not procedural.

"The judges stood up to him [Thomas]," Bender told me. "You stood up to him. The people stood up."

That's rather grand; after all, there are many incapable of standing. They are on the run or in cells. How do we get "the people" to see their bond with "the others," the Mexicans, the prisoners?

How do we convince our readers that their community is linked directly to migrants?

In Sacred Heart church, they have stained glass windows depicting the Corporal Acts of Mercy.

These are the Biblical admonitions calling, if not for a sense of community, at least for a sense of responsibility.

Instead of the customary — visit those in prison — Sacred Heart's stained glass urges, "Ransom the captives."

In Phoenix, Sheriff Joe Arpaio has created a 14-year run of terror directed at inmates. Andrew Thomas has painted a bull's-eye on Mexican migrants. And when Arpaio finds illegal aliens kidnapped and held for ransom in drop houses, they are charged and deported.

This series hoped to make clear the larger community. We sought to link prisoners, political enemies, journalists, migrants, judges and readers.