Screams at 3,000

January 1st, 2007

Mélida Arredondo, who lost her stepson Marine Lcpl Alexander S. Arredondo on August 25, 2004, expresses the feelings of many of the 3,000 families today:

SCREAMS
by Melida Arredondo

I can hear them.
Can’t you?
The screams as she cries
What more can she do?

The pressure on her chest
Just won’t go away.
Today, ends the year
Her child’s death day.

The wife stands alone
Her kids at her side
Saying “Mom, what’s wrong?
Mr. is my Daddy alive?”

The men dressed all nice
One with a collar
Do not explain
all this death for a dollar

Or oil or greed.
They are not here to talk real
They bring only news
That cause the whole family to kneel.

The Father grabs one man
by his uniform in anger
The other hold his arms
To protect the GI from the stranger.

Yet, this Father to him
A stranger is not
The GI looks into his tears
and sees the eyes of his Pop.

The words are not friendly
Yet the pain fills all who love
And lose their own family
Due to bombs from above.

I hear the endless screams
They just won’t go away…
At least 3,000 are dead
And no cause to celebrate

On this last day of the year
I desire so much more
from my country and neighbors
to unite against senseless war.

Mélida Arredondo, www.peopleunited4peace.org
Remember Lcpl Alexander S. Arredondo, USMC, 08/05/1984 - 08/25/04

“To stand in silence when they should be protesting makes cowards out of men”
- Abe Lincoln

The Arredondos know this scream firsthand:

Carlos Arredondo of Roslindale, MA, learned that his son Lcpl. Alexander Arredondo, USMC was killed in action on August 25, 2004, his 44th birthday. When advised of his son’s death and due to anguish, grief and questionable protocol by the Casualty Assistance Team, he set fire to a US Marine van and himself in the process. These images were broadcast worldwide and resonated for many as the ultimate anguish of a father having lost his son in war. Carlos attended Alexander’s wake and funeral on a stretcher despite his injuries. With the help of his wife and family, he recuperated from burns on 26% of his body and engaged in active counseling to recuperate from PTSD. As a part of his treatment, he reaches out to other families who have lost their family members. He currently is focusing on public speaking and preparing a media campaign to inform particularly Spanish speaking parents of the unethical recruitment methods used to target troops who come from divorced and low income backgrounds.

Melida Arredondo of Roslindale, MA, drove home as quickly as she could when she found out that her stepson Alexander had been killed in action. When she turned onto her street, she witnessed a fire. She realized that there was something burning in front of her home. She saw Carlos writhing in pain as a US Marine sat on his back holding his arms. In the midst of the confusion, she remembers helicopters overhead, the sirens wailing, speaking to Brian (Alex’s younger brother) on a cell phone and witnessed a van on fire just a few feet away from her. Melida, a lifelong peace and justice activist, was active in protesting the Gulf War while George H. Bush’s was in office. Out of respect and love for her stepson, she told him that she was scared for him and did not believe in war. Yet, she told him she would not protest since she did not want him to believe she did not love and support him. Since Alex’ death, Melida has written opinion pieces about the war in local Boston papers, is aiding Carlos in writing about his experiences and works at a community health center in Dorchester, Massachusetts.

Entry Filed under: Culture, Iraq, Middle East, Poetry, War and Peace

1 Comment Add your own

  • 1. Robert Rivard  |  January 1st, 2007 at 2:18 pm

    Stephen, thank you for sharing this haunting and heartbreaking poem. Who among us can read it and then sit idly by and not care about all the families who have been deeply and permanently scarred by this war? My hearfelt condolences go out to the Arredondo family and indeed, to all the families of our military. Please know you are always in my thoughts and prayers. How can we bring an end to this madness!

    Peace,
    Fidelio

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