When Vanunu arrived in Rome at what he thought was Cindy/Cheryl's sister's home, he was clubbed, drugged, bound and transported back to Israel in either a small yacht or a cargo ship. Just prior to being driven to his closed door trial, Vanunu had been inspired to write his Rome flight number and the word 'HIJACKED" upon his palm and press it to the window of the van he was being transported in. His inspired move was immortalized by a photographer and so inflamed the Israeli government, that afterwards, when ever Vanunu was being transported to his closed door trial, windows were curtained and he was made to wear a helmet on his head.
Vanunu was naïve not to imagine he would be trapped in such a way, and from the few hours of being in his presence, I can believe he was indeed that naïve. I also laugh every time he accuses me of being, too naïve too.
In July 2007, he was laughing when he said, "You are too naïve. You think you're going to change anything with your website? Maybe a few hundred people a day read anything you say."
I replied, "I know I am just one voice in the wilderness, but there are more like me all the time and all we have are words to fight with. I have a link on my site that tells me the U.S. Government and Military visit me daily, and even if Big Brother were my only readers, it is worth it to me to speak out and agitate them with the truth. It is the right thing to do."
Every time I see Vanunu I always remind him that when I was a child, my dream was to grow up and become Brenda Starr, the ace investigative journalist of the Sunday Comics. Vanunu laughed the last time I brought it up, but when I first told him about Brenda in June 2005, he thought I was nuts for I told him I was convinced that his story would wake up American Christians about the truth in the Holy Land, and I was going to do all I could to tell them his story. Just like Brenda would.
I also told Vanunu how a little boy of Beit Jala, a suburb on the west side of the Little Town of Bethlehem, irrevocably changed my life and how he-Vanunu got caught up in my mind with that little boy of Bethlehem. George's face adorns the banner of my homepage. His photo was taken in 2000, by photographer Debbie Hill, the morning after the Israeli army destroyed his bedroom in retaliation for a few hopeless militants who had infiltrated his once peaceful Christian village to snipe across the way into the illegal settlement/colony of Gilo.
The shrapnel that pierced the wall of George's sanctuary read 'Made in USA ' and was delivered via American made Apache helicopters.
The second I saw George's eyes, in the photo that was first published by the Florida Catholic, my heart said "DO SOMETHING!"
What could I possibly do I wondered, but I did make a copy of the photo, put it in a frame and placed it upon the altar [a bar high table] in the upper room of my home. Dozens of times a day, I would stop and gaze into the eyes of that little boy of Bethlehem and beg God to end the insane cycle of violence in the Holy Land for the sake of all the children who live there and free me from the incessant voice that demands:
"DO SOMETHING!"
All these years later, every time I look at George's eyes-or even think about him-the persistent voice continues the incessant refrain:
"DO SOMETHING!"
When I met George for the first time in June 2005, I vowed to him that the rest of my life will be dedicated to doing all I could to help bring about the end of the occupation of Palestine, which has now entered its 40th year.
In April 2005, two months before my first trip to Israel Palestine, I tuned the TV on and the History channel appeared. They were broadcasting a show called, "Sexpionage" all about Russian female spies and one from the Mossad.
The very clip that ran before my eyes was of Vanunu being transported to his closed door trial depicting his inspired move to write upon his palm: "HIJACKED" and the Rome flight number he had been on. It was the first time I had seen that historic clip and also of Shimon Perez in 1986 stating that Israel would never be the first in the Mid East to possess nuclear weapons.
When a black and white photo of a bearded, unkempt and disheveled Vanunu filled the TV screen, I thought his eyes looked just like George's of Beit Jala's, and I heard in my heart:
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