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Charlie Hardy on War & Peace |
As I listened to the continuing fire from automatic weapons, I knew there as no place to hide. I knelt to pray; there was a knock at my door. A woman was shouting, "Charlie, my sister is dying. Please take her to the hospital."
I dressed like a priest, something I seldom did. In many ways the garb was appropriate. I was participating in the most profound liturgical celebration of my life, a Mass of the common people.
The woman's sister was diabetic and had gone into shock. For more than half an hour we drove through the barrios until we reached the Magallanes Public Hospital. Eventually, we all lay down on a cold hallway floor and tried to sleep until 6 a.m. when the curfew would be over and we could leave the hospital.