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Check out "Into The Dark… Rememberance." at FiercePoet.com

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I’ve decided to “go dark” so to speak with the site and replace the normally random header photos with a single flame on a black background. A flame that should continue to burn bright as we remember those we’ve lost.... A flame not easily extinguished.... Charlie Howard - July 1984.... Allen R. Schindler, Jr. - October 1992.... Brandon Teena - December 1993.... Scott Amedure - March 1995.... Billy Clayton - May 1995.... Tyra Hunter - August 1995.... Matthew Shepard - October 1998.... Billy Jack Gaither - February 1999.... PFC Barry Winchell - July 1999.... JR Warren - July 2000.... Danny Overstreet - September 2000.... Fred Martinez - June 2001.... Aaron Webster - November 2001.... Sakia Gunn - May 2003.... Scotty Joe Weaver - July 2004.... Roderick George - July 2004.... Jody Dobrowski - October 2005.... Unfortunately, this list may never end. We can however help prevent further crimes by remembering past victims. No one will ever forget seeing that bloody, split-rail fence on the Wyoming prairie.  Non one ever should forget. I’ll leave you with a few words from Dennis Shepard’s appearance before the court. Tribute to Matthew Shepard (Flash File) My son Matthew did not look like a winner. After all, he was small for his age—weighing, at the most, 110 pounds, and standing only 5’2” tall. He was rather uncoordinated and wore braces from the age of 13 until the day he died. However, in his all too brief life, he proved that he was a winner. My son—a gentle, caring soul—proved that he was as tough as, if not tougher than, anyone I have ever heard of or known. On October 6, 1998, my son tried to show the world that he could win again. On October 12, 1998, my first-born son—and my hero—lost. On October 12, my first-born son—and my hero— died 50 days before his 22nd birthday. He died quietly, surrounded by family and friends, with his mother and brother holding his hand. All that I have left now are the memories.... Matt officially died at 12:53 a.m. on Monday, October 12, 1998, in a hospital in Fort Collins, Colorado. He actually died on the outskirts of Laramie tied to a fence that Wednesday before, when you beat him. You, Mr. McKinney, with your friend Mr. Henderson, killed my son.... By the end of the beating, his body was just trying to survive. You left him out there by himself, but he wasn’t alone. There were his lifelong friends with him—friends that he had grown up with. You’re probably wondering who these friends were. First, he had the beautiful night sky with the same stars and moon that we used to look at through a telescope. Then, he had the daylight and the sun to shine on him one more time—one more cool, wonderful autumn day in Wyoming. His last day alive in Wyoming. His last day alive in the state that he always proudly called home. And through it all he was breathing in for the last time the smell of Wyoming sagebrush and the scent of pine trees from the snowy range. He heard the wind—the ever-present Wyoming wind—for the last time. He had one more friend with him. One he grew to know through his time in Sunday school and as an acolyte at St. Mark’s in Casper as well as through his visits to St. Matthew’s in Laramie. He had God.... I feel better knowing he wasn’t alone.... Mr. McKinney, one final comment before I sit, and this is the reason that I stand before you now. At no time since Matt was found at the fence and taken to the hospital have Judy and I made any statements about our beliefs concerning the death penalty. We felt that that would be an undue influence on any prospective juror. Judy has been quoted by some right-wing groups as being against the death penalty. It has been stated that Matt was against the death penalty. Both of these statements are wrong. We have held family discussions and talked about the death penalty. Matt believed that there were incidents and crimes that justified the death penalty. For example, he and I discussed the horrible death of James Byrd, Jr. in Jasper, Texas. It was his opinion that the death penalty should be sought and that no expense should be spared to bring those responsible for this murder to justice. Little did we know that the same response would come about involving Matt. I, too, believe in the death penalty. I would like nothing better than to see you die, Mr. McKinney. However, this is the time to begin the healing process. To show mercy to someone who refused to show any mercy. To use this as the first step in my own closure about losing Matt. Mr. McKinney, I am not doing this because of your family. I am definitely not doing this because of the crass and unwarranted pressures put on by the religious community. If anything, that hardens my resolve to see you die. Mr. McKinney, I’m going to grant you life, as hard as that is for me to do, because of Matthew. Every time you celebrate Christmas, a birthday, or the Fourth of July, remember that Matt isn’t. Every time that you wake up in that prison cell, remember that you had the opportunity and the ability to stop your actions that night. Every time that you see your cell mate, remember that you had a choice, and now you are living that choice. You robbed me of something very precious, and I will never forgive you for that. Mr. McKinney, I give you life in the memory of one who no longer lives. May you have a long life, and may you thank Matthew every day for it. Full Excerpt after the Break. Scarecrow via Melissa Etheridge Showers of your crimson blood Seep into a nation calling up a flood Of narrow minds who legislate Thinly veiled intolerance Bigotry and hate But they tortured and burned you They beat you and they tied you They left you cold and breathing For love they crucified you I can’t forget hard as I try This silhouette against the sky Scarecrow crying Waiting to die wondering why Scarecrow trying Angels will hold carry your soul away This was our brother This was our son This shepherd young and mild This unassuming one We all gasp this can’t happen here We’re all much too civilized Where can these monsters hide But they are knocking on our front door They’re rocking in our cradles They’re preaching in our churches And eating at our tables I search my soul My heart and in my mind To try and find forgiveness This is someone child With pain unreconciled Filled up with father’s hate Mother’s neglect I can forgive But I will not forget Scarecrow crying Waiting to die wondering why Scarecrow trying Rising above all in the name of love http://www.fiercepoet.com/index.php/490/

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