Antiwar activist Cindy Sheehan made several stops in the Toledo area the weekend of June 7 as part of the Tour de Peace, a cross-country ride in the name of anti-war activism. Her son Casey, a specialist with the U.S. Army, was killed in Iraq on April 4, 2004. Sheehan first made headlines in 2005, when she camped outside then-President George W. Bush’s Crawford, Texas home to protest the war in Iraq. She also plans to run for governor of California next year as a candidate for the Peace and Freedom Party.
The 55-year-old mother and grandmother, along with fellow activists Dan Levy and Malcolm Chaddock, have already biked thousands of miles from Casey Sheehan’s gravesite in Vacaville, Calif., and plans to continue their ride for peace until arriving in Washington, D.C. on July 3 for a demonstration at the White House. Cindy Sheehan spoke with the Toledo City Paper about her journey, and her hopes for the Tour de Peace.
What made you decide to make this trip by bike?
I sold my car seven years ago because I don’t believe in the fossil fuel economy. I believe it exists, but I don’t want to support it. My son was killed in a war. I think that one of the major reasons for that war was control of Iraq’s oil fields and their natural resources. So I sold my car seven years ago, and I’ve been biking or using public transportation ever since. Living in California, that can be really difficult. You have to be very creative. One of the biggest problems in our world today is our country’s addiction to fossil fuel. The government gives tax rebates and credits to the oil companies for exploring and getting more oil or natural gas. And that money could be used toward advancing clean, renewable, sustainable forms of energy. So that’s one of the reasons why I’m biking. And the other is that I usually fly from Point A to Point B, and it’s usually from the West Coast to the East Coast and back again. I’ve been in Ohio a lot, and Chicago and places like that. But this is going really slow and giving us opportunity to connect with people. We only go, at the most, 50 miles a day. It’s just given us that opportunity to connect with people. And we’ve found the mood of the country to be very … people are frightened right now, because they see their whole way of life is totally collapsing. They’re turning towards each other to fix the problems. They’re not looking to Washington, D.C., they’re not looking to the state capitals or their cities. They’re looking to each other, and I think that’s very beautiful.
What is it you hope to accomplish out of Tour de Peace?
It would be great if I got to D.C., and Obama would go, “Oh hey, Cindy rode her bike all the way here. We’ve got to listen to her this time.” But I don’t think that’s going to happen. So my goal is to raise awareness that these things are still happening. We protested them under Bush, and very few people are protesting them when Obama is president. So we have to really break the chains of that two-party, partisan hypocrisy.
What’s been the hardest part of the trip so far?
Being away from my grandchildren and my children. That’s the hardest part. But I’m doing it for them, and for all the babies of the world. I’m counting the days until I get to go home and see them. We arrive in D.C. on July 3, and I fly out that night. As soon as I can get out of there, I’m out. Only 24 more days. We’ve already been 66 days on the road so far. I’m really anxious to get home and reconnect with [my children and grandchildren]. My grandson, who is really the only one old enough to get it, said, “Why are you riding your bike, Gigi? Why is it going to take so long? Why don’t you just fly?” And I said, “Well, honey, I want to stop and talk to people.” He goes, “Just talk to people on the plane.” That was a very simple solution.
What has the biking aspect of the trip been like for you?
It’s been awesome. I figured this out in January, announced we were going to leave April 4, the day my son was killed in Iraq, from his gravesite in Vacaville, Calif. I’ve been biking all over, but I never rode my bike more than six miles a day, so I thought, I’d better get in shape and get used to putting in some miles. Then I got an upper respiratory infection and chronic ear infections, so I didn’t try to train at all. I’ve been training along the way, but I think I’m up to speed now. I’m not afraid of hills, and the wind doesn’t bother me. We always hate the headwinds, but I think I’m fully up to speed, and can do easily 50 miles a day now.
Why did you decide to stop in the Toledo area?
We have a great community, and great friends here. We were going to go through Indiana and also Ohio, but nobody came through in Indiana to help us. So we diverted through Michigan. We were in Ann Arbor and Paw Paw and Detroit. Detroit, of course, isn’t that far from here. And we had a most exciting visit in Detroit. You know, Detroit has been going through — for decades — some terrible oppression and attacks on really, their communities and neighborhoods and families. And those people, they won’t give up. They refuse. They’ve refused to be oppressed. The "one percent" or whatever you want to call them, wants to oppress them, but they refuse to be oppressed. And they refuse to give up, and they refuse to concede their communities and their families to that. And I think it was in the vanguard of this disaster capitalism against our cities, but it also should be a model and inspiration of how we, in every community, can work together to overcome that.
Have you had a favorite stop?
Detroit was my favorite. Gosh, Amarillo was really good. Surprisingly good. I never spoke in Oklahoma before. The events in Oklahoma were special to me, because that’s where my dad’s from. So we had an event in Oklahoma City, and one in Tulsa. I mean, every stop has been really good. They’ve ranged from just a few people to packed crowds. I just figure, whoever’s there is there. And we give as good of a presentation to ten people as we would if there were 100 people, or 200 people there. Chicago was really good. We were at the Buckingham Fountain, and that’s where Route 66 ends.
Does it ever get overwhelming for you to be surrounded by people all the time on the trip?
I need quiet, alone time every day. People take your energy, and you have to protect yourself from that. I can take a lot, but I can only take so much. It’s like Popeye. ‘I've had all I can stand, I can't stands no more.’ This is one of the funniest stories about Casey. He was about two and a half, and we were at Easter Sunday Mass. We had just gotten finished singing the ‘Lamb of God’ and we were getting ready to sit down. Casey stands up and at the top of his lungs, he says, ‘I’m Popeye the sailor man!’ So for the rest of the time we lived down there, he was called Popeye by certain parishioners. We just sang a song, and he wanted to sing his favorite song, and that was Popeye.
How does this whole experience compare to your other actions and trips?
This has been a lot more positive and healthy.
A month from the end of your trip, what have you learned from this experience so far?
I’ve learned that all human beings are basically the same. It doesn’t matter if you’re in a blue state or a red state, if you’re on the coast or somewhere in between, Republican, Democrat, gay, straight, male, female, old, young, whatever. We all have basically the same needs and the same desires for peace and for environmental sustainability and things like that. So we’re looking more to find what connects us, what’s in common, than what divides us. We’ve learned that, with everybody, we can connect on some level.
To learn more about Cindy Sheehan’s Tour de Peace, visit www.tourdepeace.org.
