<i>"Writing a prisoner is probably the best thing you can do to support a prisoner."</i> - Craig Marshall
<b>Write to Critter, his address is:</b>
777 Stanton Blvd.,
Ontario, Oregon 97914
<b>Send monetary donations:</b>
DOC Central trust
(for Craig Marshall, #13997662)
2575 Center St.,
NE Salem, Oregon 97310-0470
<i>(We advise you to send money orders only.)</i>
Prisoners in Oregon prisons must receive new books and they must be sent directly from the publisher. Your best bet for getting books to Oregon prisoners is Amazon.com No, they aren't anarchists but they have everything and get books into prisons often. There website is: www.amazon.com
Publications must be sent directly from the publisher, and publications that contain anarchy symbols will almost definitely be rejected from the prison. Pamphlets can be sent from anyone, so long as the sender complies with some of the rules listed below.
The Oregon Department of Corrections has many arbitrary rules that prevent prisoners from receiving mail. Listed below is just a few of the many restrictions placed on prisoners by the Oregon Department of Corrections:
<i>All mail sent to the prisoner shall require the sender's name and return address on the front of the envelope and shall be addressed to the inmate using only his/her committed name and SID number.
- "Mail with no return address or an incomplete name and return address shall be refused and returned to the US Postal Service or other authorized mail service provider</i>
The placement of the return address for international mail shall be in accordance with the sending country's postal regulations."
- "Incoming mail must be written with pen or pencil, or be typewritten or photocopied."
<b>Life at Fall Creek</b> by Critter
I'd been in Oregon about 3 or 4 weeks before hearing about the Fall Creek campaign and a few days later I was on my way to the forest. When I got there it was after dark so I couldn't really see much of what the forest looked like, but I was welcomed into basecamp, which was well established in the middle of the logging road. While sitting around the campfire someone asked who wanted to occupy Eagle's Nest, a 25' tall monopod road blockade, for the night. I volunteered straight off, as I'd come to the forest for a purpose, not to just hang out. The next morning when I awoke I was treated full-on to the majestic beauty of that ancient forest - it was an awakening in more than one way.
I spent the majority of the next few months doing ground support for the treesitters, building road blockades and occupying the monopod during raids by the forest service. In the later part of '98 I took to the trees building a temporary platform in a tree named Guardian.
My first night in the 3 ½' x 4' platform, I was sitting in the dark smoking some relaxing herbs when I heard some scampering little feet dart across the rooftop. Each time I lit the lighter, the tarp rustled and I heard the tiny feet. Eventually as I lit the lighter a little head poked in between the tarp and the roof, which really shocked the hell out of me. It looked like a squirrel but it had eyes as big as pennies. Each time I lit the lighter this animal crept in just a little further, retreating when the lighter went out. At some time during this peek-a-boo game I realized this majestic little creature was a flying squirrel. Before I knew it, he was sitting on my knee sniffing toward the smoke. He was as curious of me as I was of him. Eventually he got bored of me staring at him and he at me, so he went to the edge of the platform and jumped which really freaked me out at first until it sunk in that he was a flying squirrel so he'd be alright. A short while later while eating dinner my furry friend came back to check out what was going on. When he saw me eating he crept slowly toward the pan stopping to watch me every other step. Eventually he was sitting across the pan from me and he reached in. grabbed a couple of noodles and retreated a bit to eat them. By his third handful he had stopped retreating and didn't even flinch when I reached for more noodles. I really think that squirrel could sense that I meant him no harm, and that's why he wasn't too afraid to be close to me. That squirrel's visits were the most magical part of treesitting for me.
Later on in the campaign, when I had my feet back firmly on the ground, I hollowed out an old log for a ground camp. When a tiny camp fire was lit inside. the place warmed up quickly and the lava stone floor radiated heat all night. Most mornings at sunrise if I was still inside the log, I could look out the "doorway" and watch grazing deer. I awoke several mornings to find a rabbit, wood rat, or even a skunk in the log with me. I think that many animals weren't very afraid of me because I smelled like the forest and not like soap or the city. I also think that the animals could smell that I'm not a carnivore; you really do smell like what you eat!
All these things combined with many other magical experiences in the forest made me realize what we are losing when we don't fight to protect the natural world from civilizations' greedy encroachment. My "activism" started way before the Fall Creek campaign and will continue long after it, but that campaign is what solidified it as a way of life for me and not just "activism". Peoples inaction in protecting these places is tantamount to condoning the destruction of all that's wild.