first GI coffeehouse opens
New York Times - November 18, 2006
Cafe Opens to Serve a Mission to End the War By MICHELLE YORK
On Veterans Day, John Hartlaub wandered into the newest cafe in
Watertown, N.Y.
It was sparsely furnished, with three Internet stations, a black sofa
and an offering of hot or cold cider. A customer who actually wanted
coffee would have to buy it a few doors away.
Mr. Hartlaub stayed most of the afternoon anyway. He browsed a few
dozen military books for sale, then pulled up a folding chair to
watch “Poison Dust,” a documentary about the health effects of
depleted uranium weapons on soldiers returning from Iraq.
He left with mostly positive feelings. “It could end up being very
informative and helpful,” said Mr. Hartlaub, 41, who has served in
the military on and off since 1985.
The organizers of the cafe were hoping for such a reaction. But,
being not far from the largest military installation in the
Northeast, they are prepared for backlash, too.
They say theirs is the country’s first G.I. coffeehouse for the war
in Iraq. It is a project of the peace movement that is focused on
changing opinions within the military, with an ultimate goal of
ending the war.
During the Vietnam War, about 20 G.I. coffeehouses, as they were
known, operated around the country. Each was close to a large
military base and was intended to support the efforts of soldiers who
were against the war. The coffeehouses were incubators for war
resistance and part of the counterculture. Janis Joplin and Jimi
Hendrix were on the jukebox. A decent cup of coffee was on the menu.
“It was extremely important,” said David Zeiger, the writer and
director of “Sir! No Sir!” a 2005 documentary about the G.I. movement
to end the Vietnam War. “One thing coffeehouses will do is link
civilians and soldiers.”
The idea is that the two can meet, learn about movements against the
war and talk about the contradictions of what the public hears versus
what soldiers have witnessed, he said. In the past, coffeehouse
patrons were sometimes subjected to arrests and intimidation. A cafe
in Mountain Home, Idaho, was firebombed, and another near Camp
Pendleton, Calif., was shot up.
But the main organizer of Watertown’s new coffeehouse, called
Different Drummer Internet Cafe, said he did not expect such
confrontations this time around. “The military today is very
different, and we have to adapt to that,” said Tod Ensign, the
organizer, who is also a lawyer and director of Citizen Soldier, a
veterans advocacy group in New York City. “The soldiers are all
volunteers. The Vietnam protests were driven very much by the draft.”
After Mr. Ensign decided this year to open the coffeehouse, he sent
out a few dozen letters asking for financing, including one to the
Ben & Jerry’s Foundation. “They talk a lot about peace,” he said.
The appeals went unanswered. Undeterred, he used small donations from
activists, farm workers and war resistance leagues to start the
project, which he estimates will cost $50,000 a year. He chose
Watertown, a city of 27,000 people near the Canadian border and Fort
Drum, home of the 10th Mountain Division. The division has deployed
more soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan than any other in the Army.
Mr. Ensign has three goals for the cafe. They are to allow the free
exchange of ideas, to provide accurate information and to be an
enjoyable gathering place, with live bands and karaoke. He and his
supporters have not decided whether they will serve coffee.
Most in the community do not seem to know what to make of the cafe,
several people said. Watertown’s mayor, Jeffrey E. Graham, said he
did not attend its ribbon cutting on Oct. 27. In part, because it was
inconvenient and in part because he was not sure of the cafe’s
purpose. “I don’t think people want to be openly antiwar for fear of
dissing the families that make that sacrifice,” he said. “On the
other hand, I don’t see any harm.”
In the cafe’s first three weeks, foot traffic has been minimal. Its
manager, Cinthia Mercante, who served for eight years in the military
before the Persian Gulf war started, recently found herself calling
out to a few soldiers hovering near the entrance: “Folks, you can
come in. We won’t bite.”
Paul Foley, a volunteer who works in highway design, said he hoped
the community would warm up to the cafe. “There’s been a little
talk,” he said. “But the people who come will see that we’re not
dangerous rabble-rousers. We’re just giving people a place to talk.”