Still No Justice

 One year ago today, Lt. Officer John Ellen of Travis County Texas responded for a wellness check on Jae Friedman. 

Officer Ellen fired 9 bullets through my blind and above-knee amputee brother as he was sitting in his wheelchair drinking a beer. The last words spoken while my brother was alive were "f*cking ch*nk." 

Yet the blue wall stood to swath him in the protection of qualified immunity and his family was sent the bill for the investigation.

 It has been a year and the pain has not subsided and the questions persist. 

My ire towards the police establishment grows exponentially.

My heart shatters when I think about it, so today I am going to try to stay busy and forget.

But I will never forget Jae Friedman, because his life mattered and he did not deserve the violent end he received. 

www.justiceforjae.com

I Fell

 Happy Limb Loss Awareness Month! 

Unfortunately, there is very little happy to celebrate in terms of living with a disability in modern America. Funding for the Amputee Coalition is in peril as the ACL is being dissolved. Services for disabled Vets have already been cut and needed community resources are shuddering.  It sickens me to my core to see individuals who have benefited from these organizations sit back quietly as those services are stripped for the next generation.  

I want to share a little story that happened to me yesterday. It has left me both bruised (literally) and emotionally. But Timmy quickly reminded me that we get kicked a lot but don't stay down for long, so I have decided to share what happened. I have moved deep into a red state, and the differences are becoming stark.

I was outside in the beautiful sunshine, admiring the flowers and seeing what else is popping up around the yard. I tripped over a landscape rock that I didn't see and stumbled into the center of my driveway before succumbing to gravity. I landed on my sound side knee and hand. Unscathed but stunned, I stayed on the driveway for a moment before starting to get up.

As I began to orient myself, I saw a car loop around our cul-de-sac and pull in front of our driveway. The window was already rolled down and the driver was laughing.  He gleefully screamed "serves you right you fucking libtard" before driving away. 

Since when did seeing a disabled woman fall become a source for amusement? And why did my political affiliation impact their decision to help?  I would help anybody who fell, regardless of the hat they were wearing.

Would you?

Smoke House Burger

 We had a fun albeit quiet weekend. On Saturday my sister came down for lunch and to explore the area. Excited for the opportunity to drive her new Jeep in the warmer temperatures, she was excited to tool us around for a few hours. Timmy seemed especially impressed by the 'headless' Jeep and is looking forward to going road tripping with his Aunt Sheri this summer. 

Yesterday the gorgeous weather continued, allowing us the opportunity to work outside while Timmy rode his bike. Seeing Timmy get back onto his bike was heartwarming and exciting. He has been hesitant about riding (or doing anything deemed dangerous) since breaking his arm last year. Breaking through his fear and regaining his love of biking was fantastic to witness. The smile on his face as he whizzed up and down our driveway was the best thing I've seen all month.

After weeding, planting and riding bikes all afternoon, I decided it would be the perfect evening to fire up the grill.  Unfortunately, after hearing the burgers sizzle on the hot grill our propane tank puttered out and ran cold. I thought it would be easy to finish the burgers inside. 

I never realized it before, but my kitchen stove range does not have a vent. The burgers smoked severely and quickly billowed and filled the entire bottom floor of the house. The fire alarms started beeping aggressively and angrily as we frantically tried to clear the smoke. I opened every window in the solarium, forgetting that I had just hung a stained glass fusion block earlier in the day. The block came down on the top of my head (ouch) but thankfully did not break. 

It took us nearly an hour to clear the smoke out of the house. Scott had to to dismantle and remove the smoke alarms to get them to stop screaming at us. (They have since been reassembled and rehung.) Needless to say, our 'smokehouse' burgers left much to be desired!