Frank Beacham's Journal

Some Thoughts on “What’s Next” for Occupy Wall Street

The past week has been an exciting time in New York City. We have seen a popular uprising grow and expand—aided by a tin-eared billionaire mayor and a violent and over-zealous police department dedicated to protecting the wealthy. As with many of the dictators that have fallen around the world recently, these New York officials are as lost and isolated as Gadhafi was in Lybia or Mubarak in Egypt.

There is a global trend at work and it’s in reaction to the huge and growing disparities in wealth and political power throughout the world. Today’s government leaders have hit bottom—enabling and supporting a culture of shallow commercialism, intellectual bankruptcy, corporate corruption and phoniness in everyday life that is crushing ordinary people. 

Honest, objective news media has evaporated, entertainment is becoming no more than corporate-created fluff and public education has come down to brainwashing a generation that the best life offers are financial deals that make money. 

Art, music and the creating of anything that enhances human life is minimized in today’s over-commercialized culture. All that matters in the short term is a soul-killing chase for bucks and the drudge work that usually goes with it. 

Today, the rich actually “make” very little. Manufacture of goods is done offshore at poverty wages. The wealthy today essentially create shady schemes to shift money around and charge the masses for their efforts. Those that aren’t devious enough to find success at that—and that is most of us—are left out.

I, for one, am sick of it. I want a different life. I want different values. I want out of a system that has created fiendish values and meaningless work that pays little and does nothing but enhance the lies perpetrated by the wealthy drones and the two political parties.

So what’s next? I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately. It is clear that both the Democrats and Republicans offer zero for the future. Both parties are bankrupt of ideas and controlled by lobbyists for the wealthy or right-wing whackos that are now self-destructing.

Before this election cycle, I would have said that third parties had little chance of getting elected in the United States. But times change and I think the day has arrived that a third-party candidate could be elected president. I also believe that most Americans side with Occupy Wall Street, despite what fraudulent institutions like “Fox News” or its pundits say.

The problem is who would run? It would be need to a strong, Ralph Nader-like progressive. Elizabeth Warren comes to mind, though she is already running for the Senate in Massachusetts.

I came out of the 1960s and realize the major fight ahead is for a younger generation. For so long I worried they didn’t care or weren’t energized. Now that has changed and the corrupt power structure has done all the right things to magnify their efforts throughout the world. This now must be translated to political action that can have a lasting effect in the world. The street protests are fine, but the movement needs to grow.

What’s needed is a presidential candidate with all the charisma of a Barack Obama, but this time with the spine to carry the things out that need to be done and not collapse to the interests of the wealthy and special interests. We also need progressive members of Congress to support this new president. That's a big order, but the time is certainly right.

Another Night of Victory for Daniel Ortega—This Time in 1979

   
Reading that Daniel Ortega is heading for a third term as president of Nicaragua brings back memories of a very unusual night in 1979—when I, and other reporters—ate rice and drank Johnnie Walker Red into the wee hours with the future president in a dark, candlelit bar at Managua’s InterContinental Hotel.

Earlier that day, July 17, Nicaragua's longtime leader, Gen. Anastasio Somoza Debayle, was overthrown after an insurrection led by the FSLN, the Sandinista National Liberation Front, a group whose leaders included Ortega. Earlier, Somoza had left the country, flying to exile in Miami.

Rebels were shooting in the air and the celebrations, though dangerous, were going on in the streets. I had been eating cans of tuna fish seemingly for days—there was no food to be had—and had just returned from a tour of Gen. Somoza’s “safe house,” where cans of caviar were ripped open and tossed across the room.

In an earlier time, at the Kennedy Space Center in Florida, I had shared a couple of beers with General Somoza during an outdoor party for the astronauts at the Cocoa Beach Holiday Inn. He seemed like a pleasant enough guy, on his best behavior for a visit to the United States. I didn’t know how dictators operated back then. 

I was at the Intercontinental Hotel during the revolution for NBC News and walking down a stairwell when I ran into Ortega, an exuberant young 34-year-old leader of the rebellion. I had met Ortega earlier, while shooting video of the Sandinistas in the jungles as they approached Managua. The tension of the earlier days was missing—this time Ortega was relaxed and gleeful. 

There may have been no food or electricity in the hotel, but the cheerful Ortega, who spoke perfect English, invited me and other members of the press to join him for some newly discovered booze and rice in the hotel bar. Now, he was a different man, one about to take hold of the reigns of power.

That night he was jubilant and everyone’s best friend. Born poor, his parents had been opposed to Somoza. His mother was imprisoned by the National Guard. Two of his brothers died in combat. He, himself, was arrested at age 15 for political activities, and became an early member of the FSLN. 

During his imprisonment, Ortega was severely tortured. After his release, he was exiled to Cuba, where he received several months of guerrilla training. He later returned to Nicaragua secretly.

That night, at least, Ortega told of the good things he would do for his long exploited people. At the time, the things he said made me feel good. I saw hope for this poor country.  He was a friendly, very articulate man, not someone I could comprehend to be a killer. But, in Latin America, I have since learned, nothing is as it seemed.

Ortega went on the be in a five-person Junta of National Reconstruction, the only member from the FSLN. Soon, President Ronald Reagan accused the FSLN of joining Soviet-based Cuba in supporting Marxist revolutionary movements in Latin America. Reagan and company authorized the CIA to begin financing and arming rebels, who were known as the Contras. Some of the Contras were former officers from Somoza's National Guard.            

This turned out to be one of the largest political scandals in U.S. history—the Iran Contra Affair—when Oliver North and several members of the Reagan administration defied an amendment to sell arms to Iran, and then used the proceeds to fund the Contras. Between 1980 and 1989, over 30,000 Nicaraguans died in the conflict between the Sandinista government and the Contras. 

In the 1984 general election, Ortega won the presidency with 67 percent of the vote and took office on January 10, 1985. Now 65, Ortega appears to have won his third term, though not consecutive. More than 600 complaints of voting irregularities have emerged so far.

The New York Times reported that Ortega proved to be a shrewd political strategist. He adopted policies aimed at pleasing his base of poor and working-class Nicaraguans, including supplying them with government-donated food. At the same time, he actively reached out to independents and conservative business leaders with his free-market approach to the economy.

Much of his support, the newspaper reported, was due to an alliance with President Hugo Chávez of Venezuela, which brought about $2 billion to the Nicaraguan economy over the past several years. If Ortega makes it this time, he becomes the first president in Nicaragua’s modern history to serve three terms. 

As I look back to that time, I have mixed feelings and one genuine souvenir. When I entered Nicaragua, my passport was stamped with General Somoza’s government insignia.  When I left a couple of weeks later, a line was crossed through the stamp and the letters FSLN were written with a magic marker.  The new government hadn’t had time to make up new emigration stamps yet.

Why Not Look to the United States for a Scoop on Rupert Mudoch's News Corp.?

As a former investigative reporter, I am closely following the meltdown of News Corp. in the UK. To say this company is getting its comeuppance is a vast understatement. What surprises me is why the investigation has not extended to the United States and especially to Fox News.

Does anyone really believe that Rupert Murdoch’s “moral standards” don’t extend across nations and apply equally to his other media platforms? I was in the room in Las Vegas some years ago when Murdoch said that his ultimate goal was “world domination of media.” That arrogant speech became the subject of a later James Bond movie. 

Now, as Rupert-world unravels, it’s a perfect time to focus on the U.S. propaganda machine called “Fox News.” Trust me, the findings will be rich. But what modern news organization has the guts these days to take it on?

There’s an old saying in the news business: “Follow the money.” Those words still hold very true, especially in the case of Rupert Murdoch and News Corp.

Reel Grrls Learn Real Media Lesson

Cable giant Comcast, at the depths of its slimy operations, can’t seem to do anything right. First, they hire a Republican FCC commissioner who voted only months ago for its corrupt deal to buy NBC Universal. 

Then, when Reel Grrls, a Seattle group that runs a summer camp teaching media skills to teenage girls, criticized the move, Comcast pulled their annual $18,000 corporate contribution. Rather than apologize, Reel Grrls stood tall and refused to retract a single word.

Some good news came from this fiasco. Reel Grrls has now raised enough money to tell Comcast to shove it and keep its contribution. The money that Comcast gave the group has been replaced by donations from real people outraged by the company’s actions.

The subject of the Reel Grrls' criticism was the announcement by Comcast last month that it is hiring FCC commissioner Meredith Attwell Baker, who recently voted to approve the merger of Comcast and NBC Universal. Following Reel Grrls' post on Twitter, a local Comcast vice-president immediately rescinded its annual donation to the girls' program. 

Then when the Wall Street Journal, Washington Post and Associated Press got hold of the story, Comcast suddenly changed its tune. Comcast then apologized, calling it an action by an "unauthorized employee." 

By then, public support for the young women came pouring in. Reel Grrls quickly raised $14,000. The group is still sticking to their principles and apologizing for nothing. They told Comcast to keep its money if it’s going to try to censor what they say.

This story is a real breath of fresh air in today’s America. Despite campaign promises to the contrary, the Obama administration didn’t have the guts to take on the bad guys. That was left to the kids. These girls are the real future of media, which is now so corrupt in its desire to generate money that it will never change.

To take on Comcast, the solution is simple. Turn off cable television. Simply quit subscribing. Tell them no. Everyone today can get television from the Internet. I did it years ago and feel good I no longer pay for television.

Of course, they still control the Internet. But competition to that technology will come as well. When it does, just say no.

South Carolina Holds Its Confederacy Ball

Last night, South Carolina began its government-supported celebration of the 150th anniversary of the signing of documents that plunged the nation into the Civil War. More than 400 people attended a Confederacy ball in Charleston, S.C.

Though the celebrants who dressed in civil war costumes claimed to be celebrating their state’s history, what they were actually celebrating was a document that showed their primary reason for leaving the union was over the Northern states' opposition to slavery. But facts generally mean little in South Carolina.

At least, the NAACP, on the steps outside of the Gaillard Auditorium in Charleston, protested the event for what it was: a celebration of slavery. The ball was just the beginning of a series of events by a state that still flies the Confederate flag over its its statehouse grounds. Rather than just protest slavery, the state’s black population should rise up and end it forever. 

South Carolina Continues Racist Celebration of Civil War

Robert Ford, a black South Carolina state senator, once said of the continuing dispute in South Carolina over the Confederate Flag that the issue would take a long, long time to resolve. 

“These white men in South Carolina in 1861 started a civil war that lasted five years without a navy, army, air force or marine, because somebody was trying to tell them what to do,” Ford said. “This is South Carolina—[home of] the meanest, toughest white men on the planet.”

The civil war continues into the third millennium in South Carolina. Now the state is making news again as it plans to commemorate the 150th anniversary of the start of the never ending struggle. Even though the state is among the poorest in the nation, it found the money to hire a coordinator and establish a website for the celebration.

Tonight, in Charleston, a secession ball will be held. Ball attendees will pay $100 a ticket, don formal, period dress, eat and dance the Virginia Reel as a band plays “Dixie.” The evening’s highlight will be a play reenacting the signing of South Carolina’s Ordinance of Secession 150 years ago, which severed the state’s ties with the Union and paved the way for the Civil War.

Earlier in the day, the white celebrants will watch the 1915 silent film, Birth of a Nation, a film that portrayed the Ku Klux Klan as heros. The president of the State Senate, Glenn McConnell, will be there in full civil war regalia. It’s vintage South Carolina, a place where the Confederate Flag still flies on the statehouse grounds.  

The state’s NAACP will rightly boycott it all. They accurately call it—pure and simple—a celebration of slavery. The whites who do the celebrating call it history, but most of us know better. As one born in South Carolina, it has always been very clear to me. Why it goes on is beyond me.

South Carolina seems to never change. It is a place frozen in time and prejudice. They simply hide behind an ever changing parade of masks, hiding the racism that still thrives there. It’s a sad, but seemingly endless story.

 

All My Life’s a Circle

This week I was invited to Peter Yarrow’s apartment on the Upper West Side of Manhattan for a party on behalf of World Hunger Year. Peter, of Peter, Paul and Mary, and Tom Chapin, brother of Harry Chapin, were both incredibly gracious hosts. Though I had only recently gotten to know both of them personally, as we talked, I realized how important both of these men have been my in life for many, many years.

Of course, we all grew up with the music of Peter, Paul and Mary. To hear Peter’s many stories, though, I felt as if I knew them personally through the years. He’s a remarkably friendly and personable man who wears his politics on his sleeve and doesn’t care what anyone thinks about it. I really like that trait in the man.

I first saw Tom Chapin on stage with his brother, Harry. I later shot video with Harry and his young family on a Florida beach. Harry would always end his concerts with All My Life’s a Circle, one of my favorite of his songs. When Harry died in a car crash in 1981, I was distraught for days.

Tom told us how Harry had actually written that song for him when he was doing a children’s television show in the early 70s. It became an unexpected hit for Harry. I suspect that’s because it has affected so many people over the years as a work containing so much truth.

When Tom sang “Circle” in Peter Yarrow’s living room, it affected me in a profound way.  Somehow, I felt the circle had closed a bit for me at that moment. It made me realize how my life has so many incredible connections that have kept building and interweaving through the years. “Seems like I've been here before, and I well remember when…”

 

When Tom introduced Jorma Kaukonen, he noted that the last time he’d seen him was with Harry at the Fillmore in San Francisco when Jorma was guitarist for Jefferson Airplane. It was exactly the same way I was introduced to Tom—on stage. Harry and Tom had both been fans of Jorma. 

Tom also sang a song inspired by the Rev. Gary Davis, a man who taught both he and Harry how to play the guitar. The Rev. Davis played on the streets of my own hometown, having been born only 40 miles away in Laurens, South Carolina. He’s still unknown in South Carolina—but certainly not to some of the world’s greatest musicians, including Bob Dylan.

 Peter Yarrow, Tom Chapin, Pete Fornatale and James Gavin

The Yarrow party was remarkable for me on many levels. The song says it all:

All my life's a circle, sunrise and sundown

Moon rolls through the night-time till the daybreak comes around

All my life's a circle I can't tell you why

Seasons spinning round again, the years keep rolling by

Seems like I've been here before, and I well remember when

I've got a funny feeling that we'll all be together again

No straight lines make up my life, all my roads are bends

There's no clear-cut beginning and so far no dead ends

I've found you a thousand times, I know you've done the same

Then we lose each other, it's like a children's game

If I find you here again the thought comes through my mind

Life is like a circle, let's go round one more time

The Deadly Secret of a Small Town

 

The photograph is of Lois McClain, a young Chiquola Mill spinning room worker, shown just after she was shot at her workplace in my hometown of Honea Path, S.C. on Sept. 6, 1934. The bullet from McClain's bleeding left hand was never removed and was still intact when she died at age 91 in 1993.

Eventually the mother of five children, she worked in the mill until her mid 70s. Never in her life did McClain, or her husband, Cowan, also a millworker, discuss the shooting or the violence at the mill in 1934 with any of their children.

That’s because my grandfather, Dan Beacham, who managed the mill and participated in the shootings that killed seven people and wounded 30 others that day, imposed a veil of secrecy over the town that lasted more than 60 years. 

He used fear, threats and intimidation to silence the town’s greatest tragedy, now known as "Bloody Thursday." I wrote of this small town secret in my book, Whitewash: A Southern Journey through Music, Mayhem and Murder.

The current episode of Appalachian History’s podcast has a section on the story of my hometown and grandfather. Host Dave Tabler reads from an op-ed I wrote for the local newspaper there. Listen to the audio by clicking on the Shooting at Honea Path below.

Shooting at Honea Path

Alfred Eisenstaedt's "V-J Day in Times Square" Image is 65-Years-Old Today

 

To a generation brought up on video, it's perhaps hard to understand how a single iconic image can still be so powerful—much less even remembered—after 65 years. But it's true. Alfred Eisenstaedt, on assignment for Life magazine, was in Times Square with his Leica camera on August 14, 1945 looking for a shot that would represent the announcement of the end of World War II.

Just south of 45th Street looking north from where Broadway and Seventh Ave. converge, Eisenstaedt snapped an image of an American sailor kissing a young woman in a white dress. A week later, it was published in Life, in a 12-page section called Victory. Though there were other poses of couples kissing, Eisenstaedt's image stood out and became an icon for a nation that finally was at peace.

Because Eisenstaedt was so busy taking pictures of the crowd that day, he didn't get the names or any details about the people in the famous picture. Their faces are not clear. Perhaps for this reason, many people have come forward through the years claiming to be the man and woman in the photograph. 

Eisenstaedt, whose picture became a cultural icon overnight, copyright protected his image and carefully controlled the rights to it throughout his lifetime. Since his death in 1995, rights to the photograph have passed to the Getty Museum as part of their Life magazine archives.

Today, we would have thousands of pictures—both moving and still—of the same scene in Times Square. But we would most likely not remember a single one of them. Drowning in so much mediocre imagery, we are now blind to the single great icons that define our times. 

George Carlin's "The American Dream"

George Carlin was one of the world's great speakers of truth. He did it under the guise of comedy, but his words stung those in power. In recent days, one of Carlin's best speeches has been making the rounds again on YouTube and Facebook. I post it here because it is so damn true and needs to be heard again and again.