Saw tomorow: part 3

From that day until May 2nd. we were inseparable; I had someone who believed in me and he had the same. Since he had spent time on the streets from Detroit to New York(squatter) and now San Francisco, Adam was used to being in the shit. So traveling with me to the Tenderloin and apartment 100 was like old times for him. Once G'dali Braverman brought me home after a meeting and he was scared for me as I got out of the car. Adam laughed at this afterwards; we got along in the way two people can when you are so unlike the others in your group.
But this all began to unravel Mayday, 1992...

May 1, 1992 brought riots once again to The City as a result of the Rodney King verdict. It was an incredible day as I helped to bring destruction to the wealthy parts of the city. It was chaotic, from the communist who brought a gang of kids with them who rained rocks on the cops who tried to protect the doorways of The SF Opera. To my burning a US flag which incited the hundreds gathered in front of the California building on Van Ness Ave.
From there, the crowd began to march its venom and destruction throughout the city. Concentrating its fury on the hill top communities of rich and powerful. The police force was overwhelmed.
And in its wake many opportunist took the chance to scavenge what was left of the material corpses left in our wake. Subsequently many downtown stores were looted after the windows were smashed.
I remember walking past a leather store as mainly black people were getting the opportunity to help themselves. I was disgusted; elite fashion and wealth, and the class associated with it was responsible for the racist activities that had propelled myself and others into the streets. I began to realize then how one persons actions no matter how benevolent can give many others the cause to use it as a pretext to destroy what good you THOUGHT you were acting in support...

As a result of the dis order the authorities decided to set up those who decided to venture out the next day. We had decided to participate once again in bringing dis order to the city by the bay. To counter the unrest, the authority had imposed a curfew; they blocked off the streets of the thousands of people who were in the process of gathering throughout the cities meeting points. Unable to march, the police could then hold our location and prevent POSSIBLE action against institutions and property as was experienced the previous day. As a result we were all "lawfully" arrested, processed and then deported to a county prison 45 miles form the city. I kept thinking throughout the entire event that if we were in El Salvador, or Iraq many of us would be dead tonight. Also the ones who would survive would be used to spread tales of torture and maybe infiltrate the groups we returned too.

I feared, as I sat on the bus, and then throughout the ordeal, watching the clock and not knowing would the bell toll for me, because I had left for NYC in the spring of 1991 and did not return for my hearing after the Gulf War battles. Was this to be my home for the foreseeable future. I did not see AG until we were all about to be released; he had been stripped and had discovered later humiliated with other men in his block. They were harassed, repeatedly made to change cells and also other psy tricks by their captures. Our block was treated so much differently; all we received were updates from the prison staff on our condition and how it was changing because of the efforts of the people we had left behind in the city. Our comrades had taken to the streets and city hall demanding our release and our rights restored. SF is a great city because YOU NEVER FEEL ALONE!

So I was relieved to find out after a 36 hours that we were to be released and returned to the city. Furthermore I was able to "exhale" as I was finally processed out of the system and saw him walk by the door I had just passed as he and his crew were following to the end of the line which led to the seat I was occupying. "Great" I thought, he was OK and following me out.

Though when we made it back to the city things felt as if they had changed. I rarely saw him at the workspace where we had been had living many nights; since we had the keys and had been manning the space during the days we had begun to stay there nights too. So it was definite change that I had noticed. This change was to grow into a disconnect that was to involve other people. In his case, he began to place a wall between us by using other people. He had befriended a young punk girl with whom he began to spend time. I had come to realize the power of the state at its core; I had begun to confront the future of a society which would use any means to control civilization. Diametrically opposed reactions came from the previous weeks events:he pulled away, while I decided(and still crave) that I needed a deeper relationship that any outside force could not break. In just a few days into the second week of May on a dark late night we were to decide our fate.

He had decided to bring the young woman to live at the space; something I found offensive on many levels. It became violent, we fought and the cops were called by him. After they had left I decided to get out of that place as they too were told by the police. I walked around for an hour or two until I knew I could get inside and get a few hours of sleep with more tears than sleep. I got up as the sun had just begun to peak over the horizon; briefly organize the few things that belong to me and started to search for something to have faith in after the dark night. I followed my feet from one spot to another as the city awoke around me; until I found myself standing at the corner of Sanchez and 16Th st. Nearby stood a house that was to be an oasis that was to be a bridge to my salvation...