and sent a note along, thanking him and asking that he stay in all the way, because we desperately needed that, it needed to be SEEN and PROVEN that we will not back down.

demonstration on the Xaveriana campus. From out of nowhere in multiple directions, ON A SACROSANCT UNIVERSITY CAMPUS, the Colombian army came boiling after the students... and people got arrested, got beaten to shit with nightsticks, got disappeared. All I got was detained for 24 hours and then grounded by my aunt and uncle for a day or four. This was a kind of post La Violencia boilover some 16 years after that began in 1948 with the assassination of a popular LEFT WING people's candidate for president of Colombia.

I think, from the look on his face, Sen. Sanders was threatened with his or his and his wife's death if he carried on, and yes, I know that seems too "Trump-ish" a flight of fancy to have any root in life as we know it to be accurate or truthful, but the look on his face is the same look my father's face wore for a week after he was told he had terminal lung cancer and the same look on my husband's face when HE was told that there were so many tumors on his upper spine and inside the dura mater of his skull that the tech couldn't count them all. Whatever was said to him and REGARDLESS of what he said back, what he got was some kind of real death sentence. After you've seen that look on the face of someone you love and know very well, you recognize it when you see it on the face of someone else.

But, hey, I've been having nightmares about a revolution breaking out in the US the week before the Democratic presidential convention...

I was at the picnic in Chicago in 1968 -- my choice to go there and it cost me a job for going, too, and it was nothing like the riot in Bogota; it was comparing a party where some chairs got thrown (Chicago) to a deliberate stampede and killing of as many cattle belonging to poor men who could ill afford to lose a single one of them (Bogota) -- I didn't fear for my life in Chicago. I feared for my life in Bogota, and at the time, NO ONE had EVER mentioned La Violencia to me at home with my homophobic but anti-Catholic Colombian uncle or my very uneasy US citizen sister to my mother who married him and came there the year I was born, not knowing a word of Engish and discovering the place she'd been brought to was full of bloodshed, death, starvation of peons and lower classes. La Violencia started the year I was born and allegedly ended when I was about 10. and during that stampede the day I cut class at 16, a U.S. Navy jeep had been overturned outside of the U.S. embassy over some goings on in Cuba a day or so before hand As with European universities, police and govt. paramilitary personnel were NEVER to enter the gates of a university without INVITATION from the organization, and they had had no such invite.. Xaveriana being Catholic Church owned and disinclined to trust the Colombian military. Kids gathered on the green grass between buildings to sing, drink rum, drink coffee, talk politics and flirt. It wasn't marching or public speaking with bullhorns or anything.

But the army INVADED...