From: New Liberation News Service <nlns@igc.apc.org>
Subject: NLNS: FROM the VAULT
Followup-To: alt.activism.d
Originator: daemon@pencil.cs.missouri.edu
Organization: ?
Date: Tue, 22 Dec 1992 13:27:48 GMT

/* Written  9:57 pm  Dec 20, 1992 by nlns@igc.apc.org in igc:nlns.samples */
/* ---------- "NLNS PACKET 3.6 *** 12/11/92" ---------- */

The House That Blood Built
From Liberation News Service #218 December 13, 1969
Abe Peck, Chicago Seed/Liberation News Serivice

CHICAGO (LNS)--This is the house that blood built. It is called 2337 West 
Monroe Street. It is in Chicago, in what Elvis calls "the ghet-to."
	A pool of blood stains the carpet behind the front door to this house. 
The blood was part of Mark Clark until the morning of Dec. 4. Mark Clark 
was a Black Panther from Peoria, Ill.
	Color him dead.
	Overturned furniture fills the front room and hallways of this house. 
The walls and furniture are air-conditioned police style--ventilated by 
shotgun, pistol, automatic rifle, and magnum shells.
	Color them violated.
	There is a third bedroom at the end of the hallway, and the mattress 
in this room is half brown and half red. The brown part is frayed with use, 
the red part is fresh and slippery with agony and paid.
	This redness was a part of Fred Hampton. Fred Hampton was 
Chairman of the Illinois Black Panther Party. Color him dead, too.
	Fred Hampton was 21 years old.
	Mark Clark was 22.
	A block away, the Information Minister and the Defense Minister 
and several other speakers speak of Chairman Fred and Mark Clark and 
armed struggle. They speak of why they are tired of writing and lecturing 
and organizing in the shadow of 400 years of Babylonian Captivity.
	Words.
	At the house that blood built, words are no longer necessary. The 
shotgun patterns show where Ron Satchel, Blair Anderson, Verlin Brewer, 
and Brenda Harris were put up against the wall. Shocked eyes play "follow 
the dots" and relay the truth: each was shot only in the lower body, each 
shot was shot to cripple him or her for a long time.
	Soon we will pay another visit. Jews call it "sitting shivah." 
Irishment call it a "wake." The Vikings launched ships when the time came. 
Soon we shall go to a place unlike "the ghet-to," a place where the air is 
clean and there is space for people to stretch out. We shall go to this place of 
good-byes, and we shall say our farewells to the 27th and 28th Black 
Panthers to perish. We shall stand over the graves and hear eulogies to 
those who fought well and not in vain.
	More words.
	We, the long-haired sons and daughters of the middle-class, went to 
that house that blood built and saw the truth that words and rhetoric cannot 
say. We saw the redness of black men and women and knew it for the 
redness of the yellow Vietnamese and the white activist whose blood will 
flow before the beast is slain. We stepped in the redness, and felt rage that 
the State's attorney could dare to congratulate his gunment for killing people 
in their beds. The redness seeped into our minds as we thought of our 
communal homes and our still-living loved ones.
	When we left that house that blood built, we knew that we had 
descended from the mountain to join with those who dwell in the valley. 
And, when we looked into each other's eyes we knew that the road back 
had been sealed by the avalanche of what we had seen.
	Bring the ghetto home.o those who fought well and not in vain.

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