That's Church

UPDATE: I understand that some of you are getting a standard reply back from Ed Rendell’s office.  I got it too.  Jamie and Ali want to caution you from getting angry or lashing out at Governor Rendell.  Despite that standard reply, Governor Rendell IS helping the girls RIGHT NOW the best he can.  Trust me when I tell you that if were not for Governor Rendell, Jamie and Ali would never have made it home the first time.  Your emails to him are still serving a purpose.  It’s another voice reaching out to him to keep the pressure on.  If you haven’t emailed, please add your voice to the chorus.  THANK YOU!

……………………..

I’m going to get to that plea, but first, I want to tell you this.

During my Valentine’s Dinner with Jamie and Ali and Jonathan, a subject came up — a question.

“If it had been any other city we sought help from, would we have had the outpouring of help and national attention that we did?”

This was me and Jonathan: [SHAKING HEADS VEHEMENTLY NO SO HARD OUR BRAIN MATTER MAY HAVE SLIGHTLY DISLODGED].

Me: “I’m biased.  I love this city so much, the people so much, but let me tell you, I know 100% that no other city would have done what this city did.  People spent HOURS just tweeting celebrities and then when their accounts got flagged for spam, they created new accounts and kept on going.  People spent hours on the phone and on the computer, contacting their representatives.  I had Burghers email me all, ‘I have packed my bags. I don’t know why and I don’t know if you can use me, but I have my passport and my bags and I’m ready to rock.’  It was a Burgher with a past internship at CNN that helped get through to them.  Yes, it eventually became a national effort, but it began here in Pittsburgh.”

And the girls agreed.  Jamie said, “It must be true, because those children had parents all over the country who were trying so hard to get support and public outcry from their communities and NO ONE got anything close to what we got, which enabled us to get the kids here.”

Okay, you guys?  I’m not making that up.  That conversation happened, just like that. I swear it on my life.

Now, the plea.

Here are some pictures Jamie and Ali have taken of the last 12 orphans still at BRESMA.  Yes, they’re living in tents.

I know.  My heart cries too.

Here’s a message from Jamie and Ali:

“Hey Pittsburgh and friends around the world, we need your help again! There are babies dying before our eyes and something needs to be done immediately. Please please please call all of your state representatives, senators, congressmen and governors and implore them to help us save these babies lives.

When you make these calls, here are the important facts:

There are 12 children still here in BRESMA who now have adoptive families waiting for them in the United States. We have the required Haitian documents for each child. The only problem is that these children were not officially matched with their US adoptive families before the earthquake on January 12th. Hopefully someone can cut through the red tape and get the kids out of Haiti before another baby dies.

Please call and email without ceasing.

Thank you so much for your help!!
Jamie and Ali McMutrie”

So here’s what we do.  We call and we say this:

“I’m [fill in your name] and I am a voter.  I am calling because I am concerned about the children of BRESMA, an orphanage in Haiti run by your constituents Jamie and Ali McMutrie.  The children are sick and some dying.  They’re living in tents and they’re waiting on the US Government to give them clearance to leave.  That hasn’t happened simply because the children weren’t matched with their waiting families prior to the earthquake.  I want to know what [name of politician] is doing about this.  I want to know that [he/she] cares about Jamie and Ali McMutrie, and by extension those innocent children.  I would like to know that if nothing is currently being done by this office, what WILL be done starting now? This is simply red tape and I know [name of politician] has the power to cut through it easily.  I want to know when [he/she] is going to get started on that?”

If you want to email, you can do that too and here’s what you can say.  Change it however you like to put your own voice in it:

“Dear [Name]:

Have you seen these photos of the children in BRESMA in Haiti, an orphanage run by your constituents Jamie and Ali McMutrie?  If not, now is the time to look at these children who are suffering and dying because of bureaucratic red tape.

http://thatschurch.com/2010/02/17/a-new-plea-from-jamie-and-ali/

The Haitian government has already signed the paperwork to release these children to the U.S. and the adoptive families they have waiting here.  It’s your turn now.  It is time for the United States government to step up and cut the tape and let these children come to their new, safe, plentiful homes.

One of the children is in dire need of a heart operation, without, he’ll die. The others are malnourished, sick, unhappy, and they’re all living in tents with Jamie and Ali.  How can you sit by and let that continue to be?  How can you not do something, anything to relieve their pain and allow Jamie and Ali to bring them home to live with the families waiting for them here in the United States?

Every second they suffer beyond now is partly the fault of the government of this prosperous country.  As a voter, I am asking you to please be the hero here.  Be the one that gets those children out of that horrible situation.  Be the one that doesn’t turn a blind eye to the pleas of Jamie and Ali McMutrie and those 12 innocent children.

I hope to hear from you soon regarding the action you have taken on behalf of the children of BRESMA.

Respectfully,

[your name]“

Now, if you’re one of those 12 adoptive families, you want to call your state representatives and senators and governors by clicking here and entering your zip code. If you’re anywhere else, you want to call Jamie and Ali’s representatives, all of whom have been involved in this process from the beginning. We urge you to call them and remind them not to forget about Haiti and BRESMA.

Senator Bob Casey

Pittsburgh Office: (412) 803-7370

Washington D.C. Office: (202) 224-6324 // Toll Free: (866) 802-2833

Contact him here

Senator Arlen Specter:
Pittsburgh Office: (412) 644-3400
Washington DC Office: (202) 224-4254

Web contact here

Governor Edward G. Rendell:

Main Office: (717) 787-2500

Web contact here

Congressman Jason Altmire:

Main Office: (724) 378-0928

Washington D.C. Office: (202) 225-2565

Web contact him here Holy crap, you cannot email Jason Altmire if you are not in his district. Gotta call him, guys.

If you have a minute to make your voice heard for Jamie and Ali, to show them that they weren’t wrong when they said Pittsburghers really did go above and beyond, then please do so. If you’re not from Pittsburgh, never visited Pittsburgh, but you helped us out the first time with the first set of children, you deserve just as much credit as Burghers do, and I hope we can count on you again to make a few quick phone calls or emails.

You might think that your 10 minutes spent won’t make a difference, but it’s like Hopper said in “A Bug’s Life,” that’s right, I’M PULLING PIXAR ON YOUR ASSES:

“You let one ant stand up to us, then they all might stand up! Those puny little ants outnumber us a hundred to one and if they ever figure that out there goes our way of life! It’s not about food, it’s about keeping those ants in line.”

We’re the ants.  We outnumber the politicians.  We HAVE figured that out and it’s time we banded together and make those phone calls and emails.

This is the part in the war movie where a general or an Indian chief or a warrior sits high atop a horse as the troops crest the hill, and he pauses a moment to let the magnitude of life and death sink in.  Then he thrusts that sword high up in the air and bellows, “CHARGE!”

Charge, friends.  Once again for Jamie and Ali. This is life and death. One child has already died.  Let’s do what we can to save the others.

This message has been approved by the McMutries and I’ll leave the comments open for the exchange of ideas. And if you could, just leave a little comment with a “Done!” or a “Called!” or an “Emailed!” or anything so I can kind of gauge how much pressure the politicians are feeling to do something, that would be awesome of you.

Dear Lukey,

I was going to apologize, I was.

You see, a few days ago, a reader came to me and said, “I heard Luke is going to Mardi Gras.”  To which I responded, “YOU LIE!  No way.”  Problem was, this reader is well-connected and told me about your separation from your wife THREE WEEKS before it hit the news.  So I took a wait and see approach.  Today rolled around and I said, “Gee.  I wonder if the Mayor is around or if he really did leave town.”

I emailed the Dread Lord a day or so ago and asked him if you were leaving town to head to New Orleans.  The Dread Lord never responded, and he ALWAYS responds to my emails.  That gave me pause.  So I emailed around to some media and other connected people.  Some had heard the rumor too and couldn’t find you.  Council was looking for you to sign something and THEY couldn’t find you.  I asked twitter.  “HAS ANYONE SEEN THE MAYOR IN PITTSBURGH?!”

No one had.  Even Yarone wasn’t around and your press secretary claimed to the media that she didn’t know where you were but that she knew you were in Pittsburgh.

This is all happening at about 10:30 this morning, but the media started asking questions about your whereabouts last night around 6:00 p.m.!

This goes on until 4:00 p.m today.  That was about 22 hours that the word was out that Council was looking for you and no one knew where you were.  You’re mayor.  You don’t just disappear like that.  Seemed fishy.  And keep in mind, Mr. Mayor, that the reason these questions were being asked was due in part to the fact that you weren’t around during Snowmageddon.  And now, here we are, one week later, and no one can find you. WHERE IS THE MAYOR NOW, the city and the media and the bloggers asked.

Finally, you called a press conference, popped your head out to say, “I’m here.  I’ve been here.  I’ve been working and I’m PISSED.”

If it had ended there, I’d be writing an apology to you because you were just out doing your job and were unreachable or just didn’t have time to respond to the media and council asking where you were.

But it didn’t end there.  You said:

“I was here,” Mr. Ravenstahl said. “I did three things today. I responded to your ridiculous inquiries. I drove around the city of Pittsburgh and did an evaluation of the streets and how they looked. And I spent the majority of my time with the public safety director” discussing the death of a Hazelwood man whose companion repeatedly called for an ambulance during the snow emergency.

Asked why his staff did not disclose his whereabouts, the mayor said the information was withheld “just to kind of prove a point, that you all need to be more responsible.”

No, you DIDN’T respond to those ridiculous inquiries.  All of this could have been avoided if you had just bothered to just let your press secretary say, “The Mayor is not available to sign the document because he is meeting with the public safety director.” End of story.  See ya later, Mayor.

But that didn’t happen.  She did not disclose your whereabouts.  She lied and said she didn’t know where you were and the reason she said that is because you WERE INTENTIONALLY WITHHOLDING THAT INFORMATION FROM THE MEDIA.

“To kind of prove a point.”

You weren’t just out there working. You weren’t unreachable.  You were aware that you were being sought. You did this on purpose.  You could have made it all go away with one little phone call, but you didn’t.  You decided you didn’t owe the media, or the people of Pittsburgh an answer as to where you were.  You decided to just not tell them.  You let the uproar build and build and build just so you could pop your head out and be all, “YOU PEOPLE ARE RIDICULOUS.”

What you did was kind of like a mother hiding in the closet from her children, watching as they get more scared by the minute, waiting until they start crying, and then poking her head out to YELL AT THEM FOR CRYING.

You’re the MAYOR.  You have to show up and when you don’t show up you have to actually give a reason for it when the media asks where you were in lieu of showing up.  When you know there’s a rumor that you’re in New Orleans and you know people are looking for you, you pick up your stupid phone, you text your press secretary and you say, “Let them know where I’m at.  Will answer questions shortly.”

Something, ANYTHING to quell the uproar and stop the questions.

You had that power.  The power was in YOUR hands this entire time to put a stop to the questions of your whereabouts.  It is because of YOUR actions that it got as bad as it did.  It was your decisions.  Your silence. You. All you.

You don’t get to be angry at people for reacting to a situation you MANUFACTURED on purpose all by yourself.  You don’t get to lash out at the media for their “ridiculousness” in daring to ask where the elected Mayor has been all freaking day.

You decided to “prove a point.”  What point you thought you were proving, I can never hope to know.  That the media asks questions and when the questions aren’t answered they keep searching for answers?  That you don’t answer to anyone?  That you can do what you want and no one should question it?

I put forth, Mr. Mayor, that in light of your past issues with “showing up” and in light of you not being here for the blizzard and in light of how long you were off the radar, the media would have been IRRESPONSIBLE if they weren’t asking the questions they asked and continue to ask.

I put forth that the only point you really proved is that it’s not the media that acted irresponsibly here.  It was you.

Yours,

Me.

A conversation with my Brother in Law last week.

BIL: Where the hell is Randy Baumann?

Me: I have no freaking clue, and believe me, I have asked around.  No one knows.

BIL: [sigh]

Me: That bad?

BIL: [sigh]

Me: How bad?

BIL: It’s painfully bad without him.  Horrible. Val is there and she’s good and Jim is awesome, but Randy was the one that made everything work.  Without him it’s just …

Me: [sigh?]

BIL: Yeah.

Well, good news BIL!

WDVE-FM (102.5) morning host Randy Baumann will be back on the air — on WDVE.  The radio station announced today that Mr. Baumann, who had vanished suddenly from the morning show in January, and Jim Krenn have signed multiyear contracts with Clear Channel-Radio Pittsburgh.

My question, do you think they have been negotiating with Randy the entire time, or do you suppose they restarted negotiations  with him after they realized how [sigh] it was without him?

My guess? The latter.

UPDATE: He’s ALIVE! And pissed that people wondered where he was all day.  Even though Council couldn’t find him all day today, Lukey just held a press conference saying he’s been in Pittsburgh all day. So he was NOT in New Orleans!  And no, I’m not the only one that heard that rumor.  The media heard it too and NOT from me.

Where he’s been all day?  Who knows.  Should his press secretary have known where he was? Heck yes.  Does it look bad that no one knew where he was?  Yep.

But he’s here.  He says he’s been here the whole time, and I guess that’s that.

This is a game.

Like Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego.

Luke Ravenstahl is missing.

I’ve been hearing rumors for days now that he planned to go to Mardi Gras. At this point, they’re just rumors, but here’s the problem: NO ONE KNOWS WHERE LUKEY IS TODAY!

He was not in his office today.  His car has not been seen.  Zober hasn’t been seen for days.  Luke did not attend the funeral of John Murtha.  He was supposed to sign an Emergency Declaration Extension yesterday, but he wasn’t around to do it.  He canceled all of his meetings for today.

“Mayoral spokeswoman Joanna Doven said she did not know Mr. Ravenstahl’s whereabouts today but he is in Pittsburgh.”

The Dread Lord hasn’t responded to my email, which is rare.

What if Lukey is lost, you guys?!  What if he couldn’t take his regular routes around town because some of the streets were iced over or unplowed, and therefore took an alternate, meandering, confusing route.

HELP US FIND OUR MAYOR!

On your marks, get set, GO!

Also, just for fun, Lukey at the Foggy Goggle on his birthday while the Snowpocalypse was happening!

On a serious note, of course the Mayor has a private life and he should be allowed to live that private life in a respectable fashion when it doesn’t interfere with serving the public.  However, as an elected Mayor of a major metropolitan area, it is almost NEVER okay to go AWOL and from what the media and others are telling me, Lukey has gone AWOL.

Update: Jonathan left a comment about the evening that you should read as well.

Humor me while I tell this story, because I promise you that it serves a purpose.

My sisters and I are all married and that means five weddings.  Each wedding very different from another.  There were church  weddings, beach weddings (mine!), living room weddings with jeans, just out-of-the-shower wet hair, and no guests because we’re just doing this one for the INS (ALSO MINE!).  There were restaurant receptions and fire hall receptions.  Weddings with one half of the chairs filled with Mexicans.  Weddings with one half of the pews filled with deaf guests.

But there were constants. Cookie tables. Certain family friends.  My father performed every ceremony, including one with a Spanish interpreter and one with a sign language interpreter.

Another constant was the conversation that we would have with our father or mother, whoever got the short end of the straw I suppose, on the day of the wedding.  That conversation would start out something like this, “Dear child. I spent a small fortune on this wedding.  I have listened to you talk about this wedding for a year now.  I have watched you weep over this wedding, much as my wallet is weeping, because of this wedding.  I know things about flowers, and fabrics, and hair product, and strategic undergarments that I never really wished to have to know, because of this wedding.  There are 250 people sitting out there waiting for this wedding.  If you don’t want to go through with this wedding, you absolutely do not have to.”

You can take that as, “Boy, her Dad really hates the men they chose,” or you can take it for what it really was, a father understanding pressure, and being sure that we truly were doing what we still wanted to do.

Fast forward to last night when I sat down at Las Velas with my Valentines, Jonathan Wander, and Jamie and Ali McMutrie.

There we sat, one last time for who knows how long, before the girls headed back to Haiti today to care for the last 12 children the French government did not give clearance to enter the country.

There Jonathan and I sat, peppering the girls with questions, laughing with them, listening as they described raw emotions, as they told us things we hadn’t yet heard that they had witnessed in the immediate aftermath of the earthquake. Horrifying things.  We talked about Pittsburgh; what it means to them, particularly the people.

And I told them the story of the five weddings.

I said, “I can’t really look at the pictures Michael has been taking yet because I’m not ready to be unable to sleep again.  Haiti’s changed. It’s going to be harder.  Harsher.  Has anyone yet come to you and said, ‘If you don’t want to go back to Haiti; if you can’t do THIS anymore, you absolutely do not have to?’”

And Ali said, “Oh, yes.  Lots of people have said that.  We are doing what we want to do.  That’s our home.”  Ali then gave me the example of if Pittsburgh was met with some great natural disaster, collapsed in upon itself and its residents, and I left for a time to be safe, wouldn’t I want to go back?  Wouldn’t I feel the NEED to go back and help those people I hold dear to me?

And I was all [LIGHT BULB!].  I get it.

So I asked them another question. “Could you be happy HERE?”

I’m not exaggerating when I say the looks on both of their faces as they shook their heads NO! sent me and Jonathan into a fit of hysterical laughter.

Their mantra, “Haiti is our home.”

They don’t know what’s going to happen when they get to Haiti.  They explained the best case and the worst case scenarios to me.  They explained how angry they were when they heard one of the children died.  They explained what they’ll do when they get there, what needs to happen in order to bring the 12 here to live, how they’ll care for the children of the crumbling orphanage while they’re in Haiti, and they also talked a little bit about their plans for the future, beyond BRESMA.

They have lofty, selfless goals to save as many Haitian children as they can.

They tell me they’re not heroes, because, “What did we do? We didn’t DO anything.”

This was where Jonathan and I burst into a NEW fit of hysterical laughter and it wasn’t just because I was on my second mojito.

“ARE YOU CRAZY?!” I asked.  “You kept them alive.  You stayed calm in the face of danger, in the face of no food and water, in the face of sickness.  You worked 24/7 for one solid week to get those kids here.  You refused to leave ONE SINGLE child behind even though that meant one of you had to jump off of an airplane to sure safety, not knowing if you were going to ever get out of Haiti. Now that there are children left there, you’re going back without a care for your own safety.”

If I had my way, they’d have left the U.S. looking quite silly as they tried to scrub off the word “Hero” that I Sharpied onto their cute little foreheads.

The last question I asked them.  “Are you scared?”

And I was surprised when Ali said, “Yes.”

I asked her what she was scared of, and she said, “The airplane ride.”

They’re in Haiti now.

They’ve left behind their new brother Fredo, who I’ve met and who has a smile that really just turns on light bulbs all over your heart.  He went to his first Penguins game recently, where Jonathan bought him that little Iceburgh he’s clutching.

They’ve left behind their mother and their father, their brother, their family, their friends, their safety, and on Jamie’s part, a husband, and they’re not sure when they’ll be back.

But they’re where they want to be — with their children in the dangerous, harsh, chaotic Haiti that they still call home.

That’s heroic.