July 17, 2009
Mr. William Falk, Editor-in-Chief
The Week
55 West 39th Street
NY, NY 10018
Dear Mr. Falk,
I just received my copy of the July 24th, 2009 edition of The Week. In it, there is an article on page 4 titled: “The CIA’S Secret Plan: Did Cheney commit a crime?”The article is in error because there is documentary proof that the CIA attempted to assassinate Osama bin Laden in 2003. The CIA team was assisted by Afghan soldiers.
The whole plan was explained in detail by the head of the operation (a CIA man in disguise) on “60 Minutes” last Sunday. The same program was also broadcast last fall by “60 Minutes”.
The segment showed maps, described strategy and included substantial film shot by the CIA team within yards of Tora Bora on that night. The CIA commander told of two plans he wanted to execute but “Was denied permission with no explanation”. In the first plan, the CIA team had wanted to approach Bin Laden’s hideout from the backside instead of climbing up a hill but they were not allowed to do that….no reason given. The CIA leader also mentioned that the Afghan allies “went home at night” and left the Americans in danger.
There was a very clear implication by the CIA leader of this assault team that he believed that if his team had been allowed to do what they had been trained to do and could have done, if given permission, Osama bin Laden would have been killed.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Fireflies
The summer I was seven, it was very hot and there were lots of fireflies every night in our yard in the house near Long Island Sound. I was sure that these swarms were sent by some magical hand which swished these flickering lights onto our lawn as dusk came. They danced and sparkled all over the lawn and I fell in love with them.
I felt I had to hold on to the beauty from their lights for as long as I could. I dragged my Dad out onto the lawn. "Look, Dad, aren't they beautiful?"
"Yes, they are!" In the dusk, I could see him smiling at my delight.
"Can you help me catch some? I love their lights so!"
"Well, yes, we probably could catch some in a mayonnaise jar and use some paper to put some air holes on the top . But you will have to let them go after a bit so they can live."
We got an almost empty mayonnaise jar, washed it out and made a paper top pricked with a pin for airholes. I ran around the yard until I had captured three of the dancing lights. The paper top went on and was secured by a rubber band. I watched in awe as the lights twinkled on and off. "I'm going to put them by my bed, so I can see them until I fall asleep and their light will be the first thing I see in the morning!"
My Dad put his arm around my shoulder. "If you imprison them that long, they will die because they need more oxygen and room than is in the jar."
"No, no, they won't die! They wouldn't do that!"
Dad hugged me and said, "Well, you do what you have to do and we'll talk in the morning."
So I put the jar with the fireflies in it by my bed and the last thing I saw before I slept was their light. And when I woke in the morning, it was as Dad had predicted. They lay, dead, jumbled in a heap of wings and bodies. With tears forming in my eyes, I stumbled down to breakfast and showed the jar to Dad.
Taking the jar gently from hands and putting it the table, he gave me a hug as my tears rolled onto his collar. Pushing me away a bit, he then looked me straight in the eyes and said, "Sometimes you must just enjoy beauty and let it go away and be glad that you have seen it. Then the memory of it will be with you forever."
For the rest of the summer, I would watch the fireflies at night for as long as I could. The memory of their sparkling light is with me decades later.
I felt I had to hold on to the beauty from their lights for as long as I could. I dragged my Dad out onto the lawn. "Look, Dad, aren't they beautiful?"
"Yes, they are!" In the dusk, I could see him smiling at my delight.
"Can you help me catch some? I love their lights so!"
"Well, yes, we probably could catch some in a mayonnaise jar and use some paper to put some air holes on the top . But you will have to let them go after a bit so they can live."
We got an almost empty mayonnaise jar, washed it out and made a paper top pricked with a pin for airholes. I ran around the yard until I had captured three of the dancing lights. The paper top went on and was secured by a rubber band. I watched in awe as the lights twinkled on and off. "I'm going to put them by my bed, so I can see them until I fall asleep and their light will be the first thing I see in the morning!"
My Dad put his arm around my shoulder. "If you imprison them that long, they will die because they need more oxygen and room than is in the jar."
"No, no, they won't die! They wouldn't do that!"
Dad hugged me and said, "Well, you do what you have to do and we'll talk in the morning."
So I put the jar with the fireflies in it by my bed and the last thing I saw before I slept was their light. And when I woke in the morning, it was as Dad had predicted. They lay, dead, jumbled in a heap of wings and bodies. With tears forming in my eyes, I stumbled down to breakfast and showed the jar to Dad.
Taking the jar gently from hands and putting it the table, he gave me a hug as my tears rolled onto his collar. Pushing me away a bit, he then looked me straight in the eyes and said, "Sometimes you must just enjoy beauty and let it go away and be glad that you have seen it. Then the memory of it will be with you forever."
For the rest of the summer, I would watch the fireflies at night for as long as I could. The memory of their sparkling light is with me decades later.
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