ZGram - 4/7/2004 - "Countdown to D-Day # 7"

[zgrams at zgrams.zundelsite.org]

Zgram - Where Truth is Destiny:  Now more than ever!

April 7, 2004

Good Morning from the Zundelsite:

A quick update on yet another partial victory on my way toward a 
hunger strike en route to the Zundel Liberation from the Canadian 
Guantanamo:

A friend of ours, a former military officer, came to visit me a 
couple of days ago to discuss this and other plans and updates, and I 
asked him to drive me to Kingsport to Congressman Jenkins's office so 
I could drop off some documentation about our struggle and survey the 
area for my anticipated sit-in strike.

  Somewhat to my shock, it was a drive of more than two hours, which 
would necessitate my taking a hotel for the weekdays, since it would 
be too much of a strain to have to travel a total of four hours each 
day, much of it in heavy tourist traffic, especially as I would get 
weaker and probably dizzy.  For me to travel that far would simply 
not have been safe, and there would be other complications I had not 
counted on before.  For instance, I would have no access to my 
e-mail, since I can't use a lap top due to a serious vision problem. 
It would mean that I would have to phone in the updates each day and 
rely on a friend to transcribe them and send them to my Zgram readers 
and to media. 

The town itself, at least the downtown part we saw, looked poor and 
totally out of the way, so I knew immediately that getting media 
there would also be a problem.  But we would scout and see - and from 
there firm up our plans and devise further strategies.

After some initial getting lost in twisted roads, we found 
Congressman Jenkins's office.  It is located in a federal post office 
at the end of a long hall.  A very gracious gentleman smiled at us 
and invited us right in, past the reception area. 

I had looked at Mr. Jenkins's photo on the Net and thought, "Well, 
there he is.  At least he looks friendly enough."  However, the 
friendly gentleman turned out to be a press agent by the name of Mr. 
Mays.  We were led into a very attractive office and asked to state 
the purpose of our visit.  I introduced myself, as well as my 
companion, and Mr. Mays smiled most agreeably and said, "We've gotten 
a lot of letters from you." 

Good!  So the faxes had reached him, and he knew who I was.  I leaned 
forward and launched into a passionate plea, the gist of which was 
that I didn't want to do this, I absolutely didn't want to go into a 
hunger strike and become a liability to this friendly office, but I 
had reached the end of my rope and my options, and I simply saw no 
other way!   

There was no visible hostility, only guarded interest.  I could feel 
myself getting flushed with emotions, and my voice started trembling, 
at which point my officer friend took over and laid the story on the 
line - with gusto, and with class! 

Phew!  Was I ever grateful! 

Mr.  Mays turned out to be most sympathetic.  I had the feeling that 
he really understood - more, that he really, really cared.  We talked 
back and forth, and Mr. Mays was truly shocked at what had happened, 
and why I was so desperate. 

Then the telephone rang, and Mr. Jenkins was on the line, calling in 
from a cell phone on the road.  Mr. Mays told him, graciously:  "I 
have the great honor to have Mrs. Zundel in our officeŠ" - - - and 
the connection went dead! 

I said half in jest:  "Was that shock?" and Mr. Mays looked a bit 
disconcerted, shaking his head, explaining "Š he must have been 
driving through some mountains." 

After a few minutes, the phone rang again, and Mr. Mays tried once 
again, "Sorry!  We must have been cut offŠ here she is!" and handed 
me the phone. 

I gathered my wits and said in my sweetest voice, "I am sorry, 
Congressman Jenkins, to have to drop in on you like that, butŠ" and 
the phone went dead on me again!  An omen of worse things to come?

The third ring finally got us connected, but the good Congressman on 
the other end was, by then,  not in the least amused.  Barely had I 
thanked him for finally talking to me, and mentioned my reluctant 
intentions about my squatter's plans, trying to give it some 
rationale from a wrong wife's point of view, when Mr. Jenkins said 
bluntly in the heaviest Tennessee drawl:  "If you  want to be 
foolish, go right ahead and be foolish, but you can't do that in my 
office.  You can sit outside.  I don't care.  You are not 
embarrassing me." 

Well!  We were clearly not off to a very good start! 

I scrambled for dignity and calm and tried to impress upon my 
constitutional representative that I really, really, REALLY had to 
see him between now and the 19th, because that was my hunger strike 
deadline;  on that day, I was going to go into action.  I meant it!

He was not the least impressed.  In the middle of my pleadings, he 
said curtly:  "Now you listen.  You listen to me.  Will you listen to 
me?  I can't do a thing about what the folks do to your husband in 
Canada.  I have no power over that." 

I said I understood.  I did not expect him to have any power over 
Canadian policy, but I thought he had some pull in Washington.  I 
wanted to set things right on this side of the border.  Even if I 
could get a symbolic ruling, I could take that across the border and 
impress the meanies on the other side that America did not have a 
problem, as Canadians did, with Mr. Zundel.

"Just what do you want me to do?" asked Mr. Jenkins in an exasperated voice. 

I said I was trying to get an appointment with him.

"Sure," he said.  "You can get an appointment.  No problem.  Why did 
you say you could not get an appointment?"

I  told him I had written and faxed repeatedly and also called - for 
weeks, perhaps for months.  I had not received a reply. 

There was some silence on the other end, and then he said:  

"All right.  You can get an appointment.  Sure.  Why not?" 

I sensed his reluctance.  "Between now and the 19th?" 

  "Just what do you want me to do?"

I explained that, for one, I needed to have someone in Washington 
with real authority look at our case from an immigration point of 
view.  Could he arrange that for me?

"Who?"

"Someone as high in Immigration as I can get."

Sure, said Mr. Jenkins.  He would call tomorrow. 

But could I still see him?  Between now and the 19th?

Mr. Jenkins clearly did not understand what for, but finally, I got 
him to agree.  Frankly, I thought that he would be too busy to follow 
up, or have to be out of town, or whatever else might interfere, but 
miracles still happen. 

This morning, hallelujah!  I was given an appointment - next Monday 
April 12, 8:30 a.m. sharp. 

So that's where we are now.  I will go see my Congressman on Monday, 
and following that meeting, I will meet with some contacts from the 
Washington area, because it is very clear to me that the 
out-of-the-way little town where Mr. Jenkins has his nice office is 
not the right place for a national media campaign.  I am now 
seriously thinking of moving my campaign to Washington, D.C.  I have 
several locations in mind, but they need to be scouted out.  As far 
as I know, April 19 is still on - unless a big fat miracle happens. 

Stay tuned.

Ingrid

Ingrid