The Spider Series-Available on Amazon

The Spider Series-By D.S. Mitchell

As bodies fall we need to know, is she guilty?

The Spider Series-By D.S. Mitchell

Available on Amazon

Guernica

Guernica 

Guernica 

By John Curran

 

I knew him in the years after that, he never would speak about it until the one day, and then it all came pouring out ….

Morning, the little fishing village. Columbia, the Baha de Santa Maria, and all the fishing boats were lined up on the beach, going nowhere, as it had been for two weeks now. No fishing, no trade, no tourists, no nothing. The word was there was death from the skies. The big nation, Estados Unidos, was raining deadly missile strikes on the single boats traveling across the open Caribbean. For what reason, who knows. Drugs they say. There were verified accounts from reliable sources up the coast. The people were afraid and didn’t know what to do. People here are dependent on their boats. With a boat you can do many things. Without one there is nothing.

One day my friend told me he’d had enough of the fear. There was a special mission. A little donkey had been born. A very special little donkey; the offspring of his own donkey from an arrangement he’d had with a special amigo down the coast, an old old friend. The little donkey had been the product of Dave the Great and his buddy’s hot little mare, Juanita, in return for a steady supply of corn. And so now he’d got the word, come get the cute as buttons newborn and bring plenty corn. And so with that, my friend loaded his boat.

Everyone said he should not do this. Not now. The fear was very strong, there had been sightings now, military ships, fighter aircraft. Another boat blown up, somewhere, nobody knew exactly where, or for what, they only knew all were killed every time, and no one took any blame nor gave any  explanation.  His young wife, Gabriella, she pleaded, the children cried, the fear of all now was very strong. Yet still he loaded his boat. Plenty bundles of corn. You could almost say it was bundles of something else. But no, just corn, plenty corn. And so he prepared. They chided, they begged, “No, no, not to risk it now. And for what? A baby donkey?! But no, not to be dissuaded, “Give the bastards an inch, they take your souls,” he would say.

And so at the last his wife Gabriella and the oldest boy came too. He could not tell them no, what could he do. And so they set out. A wonderful bouncy ride. The boat was not large but it would handle plenty bundles of corn and three people father mother and son, on a short run of just a few leagues down the coast. It happened coming back. They had the baby donkey, the cutest little thing, there with them, hobbled and bewildered. My friend would say even then he knew, this would grow into one fine strong animal. Ah, but such was not to be.

Just short of back home they were hit. My friend was thrown, ejected. For some reason he’d been in the far stern when the missile hit, up front. All he heard were the screams, all he remembers seeing as he hit the water was the enormous fireball and a flying head, disembodied, crossing his vision like some macabre scene from Hell. And it was not until now that he could tell it, to me, finally. We were in front of that painting that we’d come to see, and he said “yeah, that’s it. It was just like that.”

The painting was Guernica. On that bench in front of that painting we sat for a long time and he cried and he cried, did my friend. That was a long time ago. I remember him well.

 

Gaza-The Golden Age


Gaza-The Golden Age

Gaza-The Golden Age

 

By John Curran

 

I actually can’t believe I’m still here and in one piece. I live in the rubble now of what once was our home. The nights are starting to get cold and its harder and harder to find fuel now to keep the rickety old heater going. Food they say will be coming now because there has been a truce, a ceasefire, whatever they want to call it. I hardly ever eat now and I’m hungry all the time as are the rest of the kids. My family is gone, they’ve all been killed, mother, father, my three sisters. There’s just me and my two younger cousins now. We have a small space here that we’ve cleared out of the rubble. They’re both younger than me. They rely on me now-we’re all we have, though all of our neighbors and people we know try to help out because all of us, children, adults, old people, all of us, we’re all in the same boat, just trying to survive day to day.

Its very hard. My cousin Maki is just six and he has no hands, they were blown off. He picked up something that he thought was something else and the thing exploded and blew off his hands. He needs a lot of help all the time. My other cousin, Fabio is blind. He’s only eight years old. At least he has the rest of his little skinny self to help out as best he can. He’s actually a big help and he’s getting pretty good at adjusting to his blindness. He helps so much with Maki, feeding, the toilet, all ‘a that. I can’t always be there. I’m twelve and I feel grown up already because I guess I need to be. We’re just trying to stay alive like always only it’s harder and now and its so sad. I miss my family so bad. They say that a golden age is coming now but really, for me, its just grey as ever. I just hope we can get something to eat.

The Ice-Men Cometh…

The ICE-Men Cometh…

The ICE-Men Cometh…

Editor: The activities of ICE agents in the Chicago area is disturbing, just as it is across the country. Cate’s article highlights what’s happening in Illinois and how to respond. Take a look, the ICE-Men Cometh…

 

By Cate Rees-Hessel

 

Reporting Guidelines

ICE Sightings: When reporting ICE sightings, REMEMBER S.A.L.U.T.Ε. Provide as much information as possible when reporting threats to our communities:

S as in Size/ Strength How many agents? How many vehicles? WRITE DOWN LICENSE PLATES

A as in Activity What you are seeing. Raid at a workplace, traffic stop? Is violence involved?

L as in Location What is the precise address? Intersections? Nearby landmarks?

U as in Uniform/Clothing What are they wearing? Do they have masks, vests, or badges?

T as in Time and Date Precise time and date of the sighting.

E as in Equipment/Weapons What equipment/weapons? Are they using them?

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NO KINGS #2 STREET LEVEL REPORT

No Kings #2: Street Level Report

No Kings #2: Street Level Report

 

D. S. Mitchell, author, editor, and (good) trouble maker

 

What I Saw

We had T-Rex times two, we had clowns too many to count, we had singers and dancers too, I heard there was even a unicorn. There were a couple “hate the Dems” characters roaming through the crowd, and making insulting comments, and being confrontive, one even had a gun secured to his hip. My, my. What’s he afraid of at high noon in downtown Grants Pass, Oregon, I wonder. Oh-h-h-h-h, I get it-he’s not afraid of us, he’s trying to intimidate and terrorize us.

Tools of Tyrants

But we’re not afraid. Fear and bigotry are the tools of tyrants, and we understand that. The U.S. Constitution guarantees all of us the right to protest injustice, to raise our voices against tyranny and resist a corrupt government. And I will do just that until my dying day. I love this country, I am resolute….I will resist….those like me will not be silenced; we will show our outrage and our disgust at the this convicted felon, this Mob Boss president.

Old Friends

“Lock him up” was a phrase I heard repeated many times. I sincerely doubt Trump will ever go to jail but that’s not because he doesn’t deserve 20 years plus, or a firing squad, but rather, we could never have a former president jailed. Just imagine the shame of it all. I’m convinced he’ll be allowed to “escape” to a new home in Moscow or Riyadh, where he can live out his dotage. Or he’ll die, probably in the next couple years, my God, he’s a fat old white man and the average age at death for that demographic is 74.8 years. So, the old guy is basically 4.5 years past the average. So in June he’ll be 80. Hmmm.

Sunny Days

The weather was sunny and 70 degrees for the No Kings Protest; sweet. I was ecstatic, the crowd was sizeable, my best guess was that close to 2,000 people lined both sides of 6th Street in our little Southern Oregon town. For red-assed Southern Oregon that could be called a damn “righteous” turn out.  In today’s vernacular, “perfect.” The age range represented was quite incredibly baby carriage to walker/wheelchair.

Vote Policy NOT Prejudice

It was really exciting, seeing such a wide range of citizens recognizing the danger this narcissistic psychopathic president represents, but are ready and willing, just the same, to come out and demand Trump do the right thing and end his corruption….to immediately stop the tariffs game…support fair taxation, in other words tax the billionaires….protection of due process…..a fair immigration policy….restoration of abortion rights…. LGBTQ+protections….environmental protection….universal health care….Social Security….and thousands of other issues that affect millions upon millions of every day Americans; I’m talking about you, me, our families, our friends and neighbors. In my opinion, people better start voting on a candidates policies and character not some hot button fuckin’ culture war issue.

Back Then

There were some smart people back in 1776 who told George III that we’d had enough of high taxes to put gold bathrooms in the palace. Now it looks like this generation of smart people needs to tell Donald Dumpster that we are done with gold bathrooms and gold ballrooms for kings and tyrants; and have been for more than 250 years. Maybe, Don the Con skipped American History, along with Economics, Chemistry, and English, because he doesn’t seem to know shit about any of those basic studies.

And Those Signs

The protesters signs were GREAT, they were funny, they were imaginative, they were spot on; many were new and many were previously-used in past Trump protests. Signs and flags waved in the air, creating quite a vibrant display. There was an audio system playing out of the back of a van and the spirit was positive. Many passing cars honked their support, and of course there were some that did not-and they rejoiced in calling us ‘effin commies.

When It Effects You

Oh, well wait until Trump’s next executive order effects them, or their grandma is denied her Medicaid, or their son’s Affordable Care Plan quadruples in cost. When policies and actions negatively hit an individual’s bank balance there’s liable to be a fight. And that’s why more than 7 million American citizens came out on Saturday, October 18, 2025, to reject Trump and his agenda. RESIST-it’s the American thing to do.

 

 

Murder in Auburn, Alabama

Murder in Auburn

Murder in Auburn

By D.S. Mitchell

 

How far does the pain of murder travel?

Auburn, Alabama is a town of about 83,000 in the northeastern section of the state. A tight knit community built around Auburn University. Kiesel Park is a sprawling green space, about four miles from the University campus. With its fields and woodlands and 2 plus miles of walking trails the park is a magnet for runners, bikers, and dog walkers, a place of peace and tranquility.

On September 6th, 2025, a beautiful fall morning in Auburn, Dr. Julie Gard Schnuelle took her dog for a walk in Kiesel Park. A few minutes past 10:00, Julie a petite 5’2″ woman, was dragged off the walking path into a wooded area of the park where she was stabbed multiple times. After killing Julie, the man robbed her and stole her Ford F-150 truck.

Dr. Julie Gard Schnuelle, 59, was a retired Auburn University professor. A large animal vet, Dr. Schnuelle was a 1996 graduate of the veterinary school and a faculty member from 2003 until her retirement in 2021. She recently served as Area Veterinarian in Charge with the U.S. Department of Agriculture for Alabama and Mississippi. She was according to past students, “a fabulous teacher,” “always an example- forever an inspiration.”

2,598 miles across the country, in Vancouver, WA, the pain of the murder hit just as hard as in Auburn, Alabama. Shocked, horrified, and broken hearted Julie’s father and stepmother are valiantly trying to come to terms with the  violence of her death. Friends, family, anyone hearing this story is devastated.  I’m devastated, as a friend of the family for more than 50 years the pain of Julie’s murder far exceeds miles.

Despite her many important life achievements, “her greatest legacy will be the love she gave so freely to any person or animal that came into her life.”  Julie is survived by her beloved husband Archie Schnuelle; her children, Michael and Natalie Waldrop; her stepchildren, Megan Schnuelle, Tyler (Brandee) Schnuelle, and Sarah Jo (Garret) Truett; parents, Gary (Christina) Gard, and Elizabeth Moody; her siblings, Tim (Lisa) Gard, Dolores (John) Reuther, Jason (Amy) Gard, and stepsister Karla (Shawn) McQuade; along with nieces, nephews, aunts, uncles, additional family, and numerous friends who were dear to her.

The Julie Gard Schnuelle Annual Scholarship Fund has been established at Auburn University’s College of Veterinary Medicine in her honor.

****A suspect, Harold Rashad Dabney III, 28 years old is in custody charged with capital murder. He is being held without bond.

 

9/11 2001

9/11 2001

9/11 2001

 

By D.S. Mitchell

It was 2001 and I was an RN working at the Portland, Oregon VA Medical Center on the Telemetry Unit.  It was about 9:00 and I was finishing up the morning med pass for my patients. Most of the rooms were two man units. The guys in Room 206 were still eating breakfast and watching the morning news. As I handed the pills to one of my guys I looked up to the wall mounted TV just as a mammoth 767 jet plowed into the World Trade Center’s South Tower. “Holy shit!” our echoed commentary. Both my patients said it was probably “homegrown terrorism.” “Don’t be surprised if it doesn’t turn out to be another disgruntled vet-another Timothy McVeigh,” both insisted. At first I thought they were teasing, trying to get a rise out of me. But as they continued, I realized they were in no way joking.

The thought that this could have been perpetrated by a group of disgruntled U.S. veteran’s was both disturbing and heartbreaking. Yet, these two Vietnam veterans were both as serious as hell. I couldn’t understand the Timothy McVeigh bombing in the first place. Why would he kill nearly two hundred of his fellow countrymen? Mad at the government? Ok, but to kill innocent kids and others is just plain madness. I couldn’t understand how these two seemingly mentally stable individuals could even understand McVeigh’s rage.

The 9/11 airline hijackings and subsequent suicide attacks were not homegrown terrorism, as both my patients had insisted, but were rather 19 militants associated with the Islamic extremists group al-Qaeda. In final count, 2,750 died in N.Y., 184 at the Pentagon in D.C., 40 in Pennsylvania. Also, all 19 terrorists died. Police and fire departments in New York were hard hit, with more than 400 police officers and firefighters being killed.

After the tragic destruction of the World Trade Center on 9/11 2001 a  new complex was built. Several towers, a 9/11 memorial and a museum and a transit hub were built on the site. While the new complex doesn’t replicate the original twin towers, it serves as a place of healing and remembrance.  

Remembering 9/11 is important. Not just for the lives lost that day, but remembering the mistakes our government made-before and after-is just as important as remembering the attack.

Don’t You Remember?

Don’t You Remember ?

Don’t You Remember ?

 

By Cate Rees-Hessel

 

I loved the break out hit when the band originally known as Jefferson Airplane became Starship – we are musically reminded “We Built This City on Rock and Roll.” Jefferson anything brings on music that I love and that song is my favorite of theirs. This brings me to another thought regarding memory, as we remember a very dark twenty-four years ago. “Don’t you remember” we built this nation on democracy and toil, not dictatorship and racism.

Don’t you remember” the first term of Donald Trump? As a college student in 1985, I danced on my chair at the Pittsburgh PA Civic Arena to the tunes of Starship and Night Ranger, full of hope for the future despite the fact Geraldine Ferraro would not be our first female Vice President on the Mondale-Ferraro ticket. I loved this intelligent, beautiful, and Godly woman. Disappointed they lost the election, but still I knew in my heart we one day would have a female in office. Then another major and frightening disappointment when Hillary Clinton lost to an incompetent and delusional opponent.

Hope was restored after Trump’s disastrous first term, when President Joe Biden brought us our first female VP,  the intelligent, kind but tough, beautiful Kamala Harris. I cried for twenty minutes after she proudly said “…so help me God” – the glass ceiling was finally broken and we were never going back. My heart broke when President Biden bowed out of the 2024 election, but right here in Chicago, Kamala Harris and Tim Walz accepted the Democratic nomination. A winning team and our first female president, finally. Then the unthinkable occurred – without all the votes counted, it was announced that Donald Trump, the most incompetent non-president to ever hold office, had been re-elected.

Don’t you remember” Trump’s horrific first term, with millions dead from the COVID pandemic? “We built this city, we built this city on rock and roll…” We built this country on honesty and broke away from a king in 1776 – there is no king of America. “Say you don’t know me or recognize my face” – well, remember my face and my words, because I will not be silenced by a dictator. “Say you don’t care who goes to that kind of place” –  I care who goes into the White House, that’s for sure. “Knee deep in the hoopla, sinking in your fight” – we sure do need our hip waders dealing with the MAGA s..t, but we will not sink in our fight, not now, not ever. “Too many runaways eating up the night” – we won’t run, we face the night without fear.

Marconi plays the mamba, listen to the radio, don’t you remember?” Our radios bring bad news each day, but when “The Donald” is finally impeached, we will dance the mamba in the streets and party ’til dawn. “We built this city, we built this city on rock and roll, built this city, we built this city on rock and roll”, not on hatred and toil. “Someone’s always playing corporation games, who cares they’re always changing corporation names“, while the GOP gives tax breaks to the biggest corporate structures, taking food and medicine away from those in need. “We just want to dance here, someone stole the stage, they call us irresponsible, write us off the page“, but we will never be written off, Mr. Trump, we will continue to resist.

Marconi plays the mamba, listen to the radio, don’t you remember? We built this city, we built this city on rock and roll…” Impeach the convicted felon before he does more damage, before more billionaires receive more tax breaks, before Medicare, Medicaid, and Social Security cease to exist.

We built, we built this city, yeah (Built this city)

We built, we built this city

We built, we built this city yeah (Built this city)

We built, we built this city

We built, we built this city yeah (Built this city)

We built, we built this city (Built this city)

Don’t you remember” when our nation was strong, proud, and a world leader, not a laughing stock? We just remember what we were and can be again, just as we must remember 9/11, when our nation gathered together in the face of hatred and terrorism; we survived and thrived. We can do it once again, as long as we remember that America is a democracy, a melting pot of humanity, built on the strength of our values, not the weakness of hatred. We built this country on morality, diversity, and hope.

“We built this city

We built this city on rock and roll

Built this city

We built this city on rock and roll

 

Say you don’t know me or recognize my face

Say you don’t care who goes to that kind of place

Knee deep in the hoopla, sinking in your fight

Too many runaways eating up the night

 

Marconi plays the mamba, listen to the radio, don’t you remember?

We built this city, we built this city on rock and roll

 

We built this city, we built this city on rock and roll

Built this city, we built this city on rock and roll

 

Someone’s always playing corporation games

Who cares, they’re always changing corporation names

We just want to dance here, someone stole the stage

They call us irresponsible, write us off the page

 

Marconi plays the mamba, listen to the radio, don’t you remember?

We built this city, we built this city on rock and roll

 

We built this city, we built this city on rock and roll

Built this city, we built this city on rock and roll

 

It’s just another Sunday in a tired old street

Police have got the choke hold, oh, then we just lost the beat

 

Who counts the money underneath the bar?

Who rides the wrecking ball into our guitars?

Don’t tell us you need us ’cause we’re the ship of fools

Looking for America, coming through your schools

 

Don’t you remember? (Remember)

Marconi plays the mamba, listen to the radio, don’t you remember?

We built this city, we built this city on rock and roll

We built this city, we built this city on rock and roll

Built this city, we built this city on rock and roll

Built this city, we built this city on rock and roll

 

Built this city, we built this city on rock and roll

We built, we built this city, yeah (Built this city)

We built, we built this city

We built, we built this city yeah (Built this city)

We built, we built this city

We built, we built this city yeah (Built this city)

We built, we built this city (Built this city)”