Q U I E T S K I E S
Over San Juan County
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Why the song, “A Sacrificial Zone”?
I first encountered the phrase, “a sacrificial zone,” in the writing of Scott Russell Sanders. He describes the loss of forest and river bottom land where he grew up in rural Ohio, due to the building of a dam to create a reservoir that provided no useful purpose for the public good. He also uses the phrase to describe a military arsenal, “…a paradise of bombs,” which had claimed another large portion of that landscape.
My song, “A Sacrificial Zone,” was inspired by experiencing the transformation of my home, Lopez Island, from a place of peace, spiritual nourishment, and source of well- being, into one filled with anxiety, and physical and emotional trauma. Our lives have been invaded by extreme noise from the practices of EA-18G Growler aircraft based at Whidbey Island Naval Air Station.
Lopez Island’s quality of life is now being degraded because of the frequency and duration of these practices. The Navy’s mission is to protect our country from enemies who threaten our national security. However, in this case, the price our community is paying is too high.
This song, though imperfect, only begins to address this issue. Other voices and perspectives are needed to raise awareness and propose solutions. The song expresses my strong commitment to oppose a policy that has been inflicting harm upon our local economy and the health of citizens, who now live in a sacrificial zone.
Stanley Greenthal, Lopez Island, Washington
Summer, 2015
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"A Sacrificial Zone" music and lyrics by Stanley Greenthal ℗ & © 2015
All Rights Reserved.
Stanley Greenthal- acoustic and electric guitars, vocals
Johnny Sangster- bass, drums
Kim Goldov- electric violin, "growler" effects
Recorded, mixed and mastered by Evan Schiller at zulusound studio, Seattle, WA
A Sacrificial Zone
© 2015 Stanley Greenthal, All Rights Reserved
We live in a sacrificial zone
complete assault on our bodies, our home
mission accomplished, the homeland is safe
silence shattered… peace laid to waste
Over the water and our bedrock hill
A blast of thunder rising
We can’t get out of here without any pain
and then we get to hear it… all over again
I wish for angels but not that kind
“The Sound of Freedom” is invading my mind
I’ll rest in peace one day I know
below this holy ground… that is my home
If the price to be free is our sanity
well no thanks, brother, take it from me
drawing red flight lines over our home
inscribing our lives… with a dagger
Silence is golden but our days are lead
falling from the sky, running round my head
it’s a curious connection I think you’ll see
I hear angels with no mercy… raw power instead
It’s all routine maneuvers they say
sacrificial- it’s official!
Who’ll protect us from our protection?
Living in a designated, non-impacted,
uninhabited, officially sanctioned,
collateral damage, super sacrificial… war zone
Over the water and our bedrock hill
A blast of thunder rising
We can’t get out of here without any pain
and then we get to hear it… over and over
over and over, over and over again