In honor of our 25th year, all those involved with the Concord peace vigil were asked to share their stories. These expressions reflect our history from those who founded the vigil, those who walked and are no longer with us, as well as those who continue to walk the circle on Fridays.
Ann Eno
A founder of the peace vigil Ann remembers that the wording for the banner took time with a number of conversations in person and on the phone. "We knew we wanted what we said on the banner to be engaging and have motion. The word 'walk' was key." Ann Eno, February 26, 2015 talking with Judy Scotnicki 
Judy Scotnicki
The beginning week of the Persian Gulf War in 1991 was when I began walking in the peace vigil. This war brought the first use of a new pernicious weapon made from radioactive waste, the depleted uranium penetrator, manufactured in Concord, Massachusetts. As I walked on Fridays in the vigil and held the banner, I have felt a particular solidarity with the veterans of both Gulf Wars and the Iraqi children that kept me going in my work for many years to stop the manufacturing of the depleted uranium penetrator in Concord and end its use in war. 
Jack Scotnicki
I have been a member and supporter of the Concord Peace Vigil since 1997. The primary reason for my joining the Peace Vigil was that I am a Vietnam War veteran who served two very difficult years in that beautiful country. Our government created so many crimes against the people of Vietnam, against the animals and the plants, that I was determined NEVER to support the United States in any future or present war again. We walk in silence to honor all species who suffer because of war and also quietly urge other citizens to absorb our energy so that they may also not support war. I am so grateful for the chance to do this activity every Friday. 1. In 1999, as I was walking around the flagpole in Concord Center, I noticed a gentleman watching us from across the street to the west of us. I completed my circle and left the group and went over to ask him if he would like to join us for awhile as we were having a walking meditation. He then asked me if I was a veteran and I explained that I was and that I had 2 tours in Vietnam. He stated that he was also a Vietnam veteran and that he has PTSD and that he was struggling for years with alcohol addiction. I said lets walk together and we can talk about the experiences and it might help if we could walk arm in arm to help each other. He looked at me and asked if it would be weird if we walked arm in arm. I said no it would not be weird but that it might help us both. We walked together and he told me when he was in Vietnam and what had happened to him and his unit during the Tet Offensive in February of 1968. I discovered that we were in Vietnam at the same time and that he was only about 5 kilometers from where I was located. We both told each other how difficult the experiences were and that it was such a tragedy of human suffering. He said that he was still suffering and that he had to get to work soon. I said thank you for walking with me and I wished him well and that he could come back to visit the vigil at any time. I never saw him again. I often wonder what happened to him. 2. In 2004, a year after the United States invaded Iraq, as I was again walking in our meditative circle, a car pulled up across the street to the south and a gentleman got out and walked to the grassy area and looked at us for a minute. I crossed the street to say hello and ask him if he would like to join us. He began to tell me that he had a son in Iraq who was an Air Force pilot who was doing bombing missions all over the country. The father felt so sad and he started to cry softly. He further stated that his sadness was because his son felt that he might die while doing his missions. I gave him a hug and tried to quiet him and explained that I was also a war veteran who made it back to my family and that his son had much better chances to come home in one piece than I did. He said "I never thought of it that way". He thanked me and got into his car and drove off. 3. In 2008, a woman parked her car to the west along Lowell Road and approached the Peace Vigil and explained that she drove by us for years without stopping but today she wanted to stop and honor our presence. She expained that her son was killed in Iraq in 2005 and that she will never get over the fact the he was never coming home. She wanted to thank us for doing the Peace Vigil as she started to cry. 
Paul Gaudet
I walk at the Vigil nearly every Friday morning to keep alive in my own heart the hope for a more compassionate world. By focusing on those who suffer, I seek to deepen my own commitment to peacemaking. What new, creative way might there be to stop violence? How am I entangled in a war-making economic world? What opportunities do I have to work for justice in the upcoming week? What gives me hope to carry on, and to expand my efforts for peace? I walk in this public space to remind onlookers that suffering is ongoing, even when out-of-sight. I need to remember the daily struggle of those maimed, in body and spirit, by our collective inhumanity and by our reliance on violence as a facile “solution” to our fears. Finally, I wish to keep alive the example of a famous American peacemaker: A reporter interviewing A.J. Muste [who, during the Vietnam War, stood in front of the White House night after night with a candle], one rainy night asked him, "Mr. Muste, do you really think you are going to change the policies of this country by standing out here alone at night with a candle?" Muste replied, "Oh, I don't do it to change the country, I do it so the country won't change me.” 
Peace Circle
Poem by Lexi Ladd Sycamore silently transitions through seasonal personalities Expressing appearance variations high fiving with teenage exploration of self preservation Amazon leaves lie flat, sprawling in their largess Walkers take note of unique shapes that peel off the wide girth to grow into a rough cover Warm red bricks with ants jostling out of their sandy homes between the cracks Or bits of green poking through the maze of light brown, vying for permanent residence Errant flecks of white paint escaped the invisible bucket used to keep the flag pole glistening Walkers take note of worms traveling to their own destination escaping their grassy island unaware of the asphalt desert beyond the path Life beyond the circle explodes from drones, leaf blowers Big cars, small cars, Big trucks, small trucks, bicycles swirling by Some louder than others with two, or one, fingers in the air Walkers take note of supporters and reflect back silence to others Words for reflection pithy enough to fill an hour’s contemplation Grow spiritual strength as singular circular minds join together The round mesmerizing motion Walkers take note of the solidarity shadow extending from behind as the sun gains its daily strength Reflections of peace presence respect concern honesty commitment confusion love support A safe space for sharing revelations set-backs successes mistakes future plans invitations tears Connections built around the loop of miles traveled and the birds soaring Walkers take note of those who walked before us, those who will walk after us, while carrying those who walk with us in our hearts Presente! 
Tar Larner
A – D – F – B (8 bars each) A song written by Tar Larner I ain’t gonna fight Bush’s war no more What the hell are we fighting for? WMDs that were never there? Suicide bombs blasting streets bare They drive around in beater cars Push a button blow up the crowd Throw them all in Abu Grave Tell a mom about the life her son gave MY UNCLE SAM Men in Black, 1981 My Uncle Sam Sent me to Nam Wasn’t our fight He had no right Without a cause We lost our lives To top it off we lost the fight He’s my Uncle Sam I love my Uncle Sam He regulates us in our states But we just repudiate Always the same Can’t u see We always die For his needs That’s my Uncle Sam He’s my Uncle Sam He always loves to interfere Things don’t concern us here Arrogance is our stance Makes us stand Ready for command He’s my Uncle Sam, my Uncle Sam Public relations is all he wants Red & white stripes Blue starred pants He never fights Just gives commands So I die for my Uncle Sam I love my Uncle Sam I love my Uncle Sam 
Charles Windheim
Peace today, Peace tomorrow, Peace forever. Sibyille Barlow
When I first heard about the Friday vigil I could not participate because I had to be at work in Boston by 8:30. However, as a Quaker I did join the Good Friday peace vigils on the Boston Common. After retirement, I was pleased to become a member of the Concord vigil and its inspiring group of friends. I was born in Germany and started school the year Hitler came to power. In 1936 my family came to the U.S. (my mother was from a secular Jewish family) and my parents joined Quakers, so peace and justice were always important concepts in my life. During World War II we were considered enemy aliens, but my mother said we were “citizens of the world” and part of the human family who should give to those in need. “Those who suffer because of war” included my aunt, who died from burns suffered during an air raid in London, my uncle who was captured and imprisoned while trying to cross from Norway to Sweden, and during the Vietnam War a nephew who still suffers from the effects of agent orange. The banner of our vigil gives me hope for a future without wars. I am sorry that it has become difficult for me to participate. |
The Concord Peace Vigil: The Beginning
Ann Yeomans A founder of the peace vigil In the summer of 1990 I was on a meditation retreat led by Thich Nhat Hanh, the Vietnamese Buddhist monk, (Being Peace, Peace is Every Step). I had been drawn to his teaching because of his activism during The Vietnam War, and his writings linking meditation and social change, and particularly his teaching that ever social activist needed to take a day of mindfulness each week. (I, at the time, was a very tired and burned-out activist.) The retreat was held in Plum Village in the south of France, at the mediation community that he had started. There were people there from many different countries, Europeans, Americans, and also many Vietnamese. We followed a daily practice of sitting and walking mediation, dharma talks by Thich Nhat Hanh each day, and silent meals. It was a very moving and powerful experience. At the end of the three weeks there was an afternoon set aside to meet and talk about how we would take these wonderful teachings and practices back into our lives. We gathered with some of the more experienced students to address this question together. The discussion was free ranging, and as I listened, I kept having an image in my head of people all over America doing walking mediation for peace in every town square. It seemed like a grand vision, (although a beautiful one). I wasn’t sure I had the courage to share it, but just at the end of the meeting I did. No one said anything to me afterwards, and I wondered if anyone had even heard it. I began to tell myself they probably thought it was ridiculous. When the meeting was over we turned our attention to preparing to end the retreat and return to our respective countries. I took the train to Paris the next day, spent the night there, and then flew to Boston in the morning. At the airport, to my surprise, I ran into a person who had been at the retreat. She was also flying on the same plane to Boston. She seemed pleased to have company and changed her ticket so she could sit next to me. I was still in the quiet space that comes with three weeks of meditation and was not really eager for company, but she was so intent I surrendered and went along with her plans. Just as we were about to land in Boston we began to talk about the meeting that last day. I actually hadn’t realized she had been there. She spoke about how frustrating most of it had been, and said there was only one thing she got out of it which was the suggestion that some woman had made about groups of people doing walking meditation for peace in every town square in America. I couldn’t believe my ears. Here were my words, which I thought no one had heard, and certainly no one had valued, coming back to me as the plane was about to land in the U.S. They came to me through a messenger whom I had really not wanted to be with. I don’t remember her name, but if I could find her today, I would like so much to thank her. That next winter when the first war in the Gulf started, I remember going with my friend, Edie Mas, to the town square in Concord, MA and stomping out a path in the fresh snow, so that we could have a walk for peace there. I think we were all women at first. We called ourselves “The Women’s Peace Vigil” and wore black (influenced by The Women in Black movement in the Middle East). Because of my experience with Thich Nhat Hanh it was always very important to me that the vigil be silent and include mindful walking. When the war was over there was a real question whether to continue walking or not, and if we did decide to continue, why were we walking, and what would our sign say? I was quite sick at the time, and I remember a few women from the vigil coming to my bedroom to try to figure out the next step. That is when we decided we needed to continue and to do so under the banner, “We walk with all who suffer because of war.” The walk continued and does to this day, 25 years and too many wars later. Who would have known, when Edie and I stomped out that first path in the snow, what would happen. I want to express my deep gratitude to all those who carried the vigil forward over these many years, and most especially to Ann Eno who sustained the vigil with her spiritual leadership, her delightful humor, and her deep commitment to create a more just and peaceful world. Thank you Ann. You are an inspiration to us all. 
Edith Mas
A founder of the peace vigil When people I knew were talking about going down to Washington to protest in front of Congress in opposition to giving the go-ahead to start the Iraq war (before they had voted), I was contacted by my cousin Mardie who intended to go. I couldn't, so she said well, we are asking those who can't to dress in black, like the Women in Black do in the Middle East, which we will be doing, and have a silent vigil where they live on that day. So I contacted a couple of people to do this. As I recall, it snowed the night before; Anne Yeoman and I were the only ones to show up, and we stomped around in our boots, making a pathway. It felt great, taking that small action. We decided to do it again- and did, and others joined us. I don't think I ever thought it possibly could sustain itself for 25 years, that has been so marvelous. That is others' stories. Another memory I want to share is a later one. Madre was doing a Women's Peace Tour, and I organized a stop in Concord. We did a number of things to raise money for the tour. Madre was a remarkable group of Israeli, Turkish, and Iraqi women who spoke from their truth, that peace was possible. The Friday peace vigil coincided with their stay, so they showed up with us in solidarity. 
How I Came to the Concord
Peace Vigil by Charles Phillips In 1965, I entered graduate school at Stanford University in a program called Engineering-Economic Systems. This led me to a satisfying career later. Shortly after I arrived, in the spring, I attended my first anti-war rally, held in a Palo Alto park. The massive call up of armed forces going to Vietnam had begun, and opposition was starting to grow on the college campuses. At the time I was not very political, being more interested in my career change that had brought me to Stanford. One thing that struck me at that rally was the assertion that many older veterans who had completed service and were in the reserves were being called up, obviously at a very bad time in their lives. We students had deferments and were not personally affected by the war, but even in 1965 the arguments for the war seemed pretty thin. We students watched and discussed the war, hearing different points of view. In 1966 Senator Fulbright held hearings that were broadcast on television (not common in those days). Fulbright and his committee asked tough questions and didn't get good answers. At the time, many people my age were naive, and inclined to believe that the government had good reasons to do what they were doing. I was no exception, and had a difficult time going against Johnson and his military people, especially since he had been progressive in other areas. The turning point for me came when Johnson gave a speech in the summer of 1966, claiming that war opponents were chicken and not standing up for freedom. Over time I participated in anti-war rallies, and in 1968 supported the candidacy of Senator Eugene McCarthy for President, first on the ticket of the newly formed Peace and Freedom Party in California and then for the Democratic party nomination. But Nixon prevailed, and did not stop the war as many of us had hoped. I was still at Stanford in the spring of 1969, and I noticed something. People were going off to careers, getting married, having children, buying a house, and caring little about the war. A survey showed that half of Americans either did not know the war was going on or did not care. I realized this indicated a deeply dysfunctional society, and regardless of what else I did in life I would have to try to heal this society despite having had an overwhelmingly technological education. Well, I went to a career, got married, we had children and bought a house like other middle-class citizens. But I never forgot my earlier conviction. After moving to Concord, in the 1980s I worked in the Nuclear Freeze movement and also in the Beyond War movement whose message was that with nuclear weapons, war is obsolete - every war is playing with fire. I also became aware of new thinkers with a compelling advocacy of a "shift in consciousness" for humanity. In the 1990s I demonstrated against the first Iraq war and joined the Concord Peace Vigil that was established as a result of the war. After the 9/11 attack I spent a lot of time on the Internet and created an alternative history to what we were getting from the mainstream media and the government. In 2002, a group from our Peace Vigil participated in a massive demonstration in Boston prior to the second Iraq war. After the economic meltdown of 2008 I continued an Internet-based study to understand the fragile economic system within which we are living. The events of the last twenty-five years have convinced me that we humans need to create profound changes in our social, economic, and political structures in order for civilization to survive, with the social perhaps being the most important. Here is a poem I wrote about the Concord Peace Vigil. The poem was first written for a Concord Journal article in 2009, and is now revised for 2015. The Concord Peace Vigil As we arrive, we quietly slip into the walking circle there’s space for all, faster or slower, boots crunching this week’s snow. “We walk with all who suffer because of war.” Yes, All: our nation’s men and women in armed service, many killed, wounded, minds destroyed, All: families bombed out of homes, little children crying for lost parents, lost house, lost village All: destroyed city, country, no power, water, hospitals, doctors, schools. We walk tall, not in pride but hope that our nation will act for justice and peace in the world. Every Friday we shall be walking as long as our nation is warring. As cars pass, drivers view us for a minute and must reflect on our message. 
The Concord Journal,
printed February 26, 2009 Letters to the Editor Submitted by Ann Eno and Jim West "After 19 years, they still walk" As we begin the 19th year of the Friday Peace Vigil in Concord, it makes sense to reflect on our history. In August of 1990, Iraqi forces invaded Kuwait and, in response, President H.W. Bush deployed U.S. troops to the area. Through the U.N., he urged other countries to join the coalition. In December of 1990, a group of us gathered on the Common in Concord Center with signs saying, "NO TO WAR." However, on Jan. 16, 1991, "Operation Desert Storm" began. Four of us then met to discuss how or if we'd continue the Vigil. We decided on a new banner to reflect our common and deepest concern: WE WALK WITH ALL WHO SUFFER BECAUSE OF WAR. Unfortunately, there has been rationale ever since then for us to be there. As each new year begins, we ask ourselves why we continue to walk. Naturally, our answers vary: "We walk because we hope new leaders will restore justice and work for peace." "...because we are all part of the human family and should care for each other." "I love the companionship of like minds and hearts who passionately want peaceful resolution of conflicts." "I walk out of a need to wage peace in myself, my community and my world." "...because the Vigil has been and continues to be a refuge of sanity and contemplation in a world gone amok." "We walk to ensure that the whole world doesn't have to experience war." "We walk if thumbs are up or down!" "I walk aware of so many victims of weapons: Those wounded by being targeted and those wounded in many ways by having to target another human being." "A kindly truck driver stopped when we were walking in snow and ice and he pleaded, 'Take off the next two weeks!' War doesn't shut down for two weeks." "Nineteen years and still counting! I walk that someday we will be counting the years of peace instead." We are on the little Common in Concord Center with the sycamore tree, the spruce tree, the tall flagpole and the American flag and the flower-filled (in warmer months) horse trough. Please join us on Friday mornings, from 8 to 9 a.m. or for any part of the hour that's possible |
