Chapter 233

“You cannot buy the revolution. You cannot make the revolution. You can only be the revolution. It is in your spirit, or it is nowhere.”
—Ursula K. Le Guin, The Dispossessed

“Let’s take a look at the sample script,” Donna said. It was our third meeting with the PSA crew and so far, we hadn’t accomplished anything. Walt Anderson was the public relations guy who had the mistaken opinion he was in charge. He had a writer and a cameraman with him. It didn’t take too long for Donna to establish herself as the producer and relegate Walt to distribution and messaging.

“Sure,” Cathy Thomas said. She’d been introduced as our writer but this was the first time we were getting around to seeing anything she’d written. “I looked at a lot of your video spiels, Jacob. I think I got your voice down. Why don’t you read it aloud for us?” I nodded and took the script from her. I glanced over it and raised an eyebrow. Well, if this was what they wanted...

“Hi, I’m Jacob Hopkins of Marvel and Hopkins,” I read. “My high school friends are all worried about entering National Service and if you are a senior in high school, I’d guess you are, too. We’ve all heard that at eighteen, the government strips away all our rights, and conscripts us for slave labor for two years. Who wouldn’t be worried? But before you get out the ‘Repeal 28’ signs and go out to stage a protest, hear me out. National Service isn’t as bad as all that. Corps members are matched to jobs according to their interests and aptitude. You’ll find exciting opportunities in the service, like Cindy and I have playing music. A wide range of occupations are available, preparing you for college or a technical career. You’ll even be able to take some classes to get a head start. Join forces with those of us already in the service to make America proud.”

I looked at Donna and she must have seen the pain on my face.

“Really?” she asked. “You want to lead with having rights stripped away and slave labor?”

“And can’t we have some examples of the kinds of career they could have besides music?” I asked. “And this is nowhere near a full minute long.”

“The invitation to join forces with those already in service makes it sound like they have a choice,” Donna continued.

“We’re supposed to paint a positive picture of what National Service is and means. I think they’ve done a better job on the website,” I finished.

“Fine! I suppose you can do better. Well go right ahead, Mr. Famous Guitarist. I’m sure you’re a journalism professional, too. I’m through here.” She stood to gather her papers and leave but Walt grabbed her arm.

“Sit down, Cathy. This is your job, not a high school writing assignment.” I had the feeling this was the first thing Cathy had been asked to do since joining the service. Might even have been recruited for this position.

“You’re saying I don’t have any choice? Maybe we should stick with the original premise and tell everyone they’re going to be slaves for the next two years!”

“Cathy, I’m sorry,” I said. “That must have sounded like Donna and I were personally attacking you. We didn’t mean to do that. You write well and I can see why you were chosen for this. It just sort of hit us wrong. I’d like to work with you on it if you can stand my insufferable ego.”

“They said this would be a perfect job for me and I’d get to hone my writing skills,” she said. “This is hack work. I wanted to go into the field and write articles about real people in the service.”

“What a good idea,” Donna said. “Why don’t we fold that into the concept for the spots?”

“They want me as a spokesperson, but I could act more like an interviewer with people in the field. Ask them how service has changed their lives.”

“I could follow it up with a full article about them and what they’ve learned,” Cathy said tentatively. “The spot would be like a promo for the article.”

“Walt, how can we make this work?” Donna asked. “You hold the budget and the directive from on high.” Walt looked like he was standing in the way of runaway horses. I knew Cathy and Lou, our cameraman, were service members. I wasn’t sure if Walt was on a long-term track or if he’d been hired in. He was a little older than us.

“I ... I’m used to working with creative people,” he said at last. “You all surprised me by the way you launched into this. It won’t cost any more to have you write an article if that will get things started. All I can guarantee a place for at the moment is the PSA, but I’ll try to find a place to publish the article as well. Lou, I don’t think you and I are going to be needed in the meetings while they hash out the details, but it does change the look of the piece. We’ll need background shots of the jobsite the interviewee is at and it will be two people in the spot instead of a headshot.”

“I’d like to sit in on the brainstorming, if you guys don’t mind,” Lou said. It was the first thing I’d heard him say since we started meeting. “This sounds a whole lot more interesting than point and shoot.”

“Glad to have you,” Donna said.

“Fine. Donna, keep me apprised. I think my job is in the office.” Walt got up and left the room.

“How about going out for a decent cup of coffee?” I asked. “I feel like I need to stretch after sitting here for so long. I’d like to get to know you two a little better since we’re going to be a team.” Everyone agreed. Lou and Cathy only looked a little discomforted when Lyle, who was my escort today, fell in behind us.

“You would not believe what happened!” Rachel squealed in laughter at dinner. “This is just too good. Jacob, we might have to call you into a training session.”

“What happened?” I asked. I was pretty sure I wasn’t in trouble. Everyone was happy with where my project was.

“Dark Smith had a concert last night in Portland, Oregon. They’re working their way down the Coast. It was a small venue and there were only about five hundred people present. Dark had just finished her spiel at the beginning of the second set and they launched into that fun piece about the couple that keeps getting delayed when they try to get together. You remember?”

“Yeah. I’m always impressed with Drake Long’s music writing. What a talent.”

“Well, they were halfway into the piece when all the power went out. The emergency exit lights came on and in a couple of minutes, they found out a major transformer had blown and repairs were estimated in hours. The ushers did a great job of directing people out of the theater,” Rachel said.

“That must have been devastating for the group,” Beca said. “Getting shut down in the middle of a performance.”

“Oh, no,” Rachel said. “They didn’t mind. In fact, they didn’t notice. They finished the concert even without power to their amps and guitars. They ended the program with the drive home safe song to an empty theater, left the stage, packed their instruments, and got on the bus.”

“What? They just played straight through?” Desi asked.

“When that group starts a performance, everything runs exactly by the clock from eight o’clock to ten-oh-eight. I’m not sure they are even aware they have an audience,” Donna said. “I’m glad I’m not their stage manager.”

“She just got flashlights together to lead them off stage when they were finished and get them on the bus. Her biggest problem was keeping the theater management from going ballistic when they’d evacuated the theater,” Rachel said. “She did a good job and then went out to get high with the lighting tech. She was on her way to Eugene when she called me this morning. Didn’t even consider the whole thing an emergency.”

“They should be called the Rockin’ Robots,” I laughed.

“But who?” Cathy asked. “Usually, you become aware of something significant that has happened and then go out to interview and get the story. You’re saying we have to find something interesting and significant.”

“Yes, but there are some that are known. Dana Drake of the SSR, for example.”

“She’s turned down interviews with some top publications,” Cathy said.

“She’ll do it for me, I’m sure,” I said. “And how about that whole successful operation cleaning up the water in Flint, Michigan. I know a corps member who is still up there monitoring the successful transition. Rosie Graham.”

“I’m sure once word gets out that we’re interested in people’s stories, we’ll get deluged with suggestions,” Donna said. “We just need a couple of pilot episodes to get it started.”

“Let’s put down Francie Redmond, too,” I said. “She’s doing great in the creche program and is getting her teaching certificate.”

“I don’t want to have focus on our pod,” Donna said, “but Lacie McPartland would be a good one to show the athletic program off.”

“And we could always get Dark Smith to do one, I suppose,” I said. “Or maybe Remas now that she’s in Seattle.”

“I’m sure that if we put feelers out, we can discover all sorts of people who are doing something unique in the service. Let’s set the first one up and see where it leads.”

“Hi. This is Jacob Hopkins of Marvel and Hopkins and that was the lovely flute music of my partner Cindy Marvel. One of the most frequent questions I’m asked when traveling to encourage people to make the most of their National Service is whether there is really an opportunity to influence your National Service occupation assignment. I’m going to be traveling around the country for the next few weeks, talking to corps members who are making a difference with their NSO. And my first stop is not far from Washington, DC and my good friend, Dana Drake.”

“Hello, Jacob,” Dana said. We stood outside on a helipad next to the SSR’s bright yellow and red Blackhawk.

“Dana, you’ve made a lot of news since the team first arrived in Galveston in the wake of Hurricane Brendan. How does this stack up with what your career objectives were when you first entered the service?”

“My grandfather gave his life twenty-two years ago, guiding people out of the Twin Towers before they collapsed. I was raised believing the noblest profession on earth was firefighting and I planned to be a firefighter as soon as I could get training. While Search and Rescue isn’t necessarily what our first responder teams are known for, it’s a core function of the Fire Department. I feel like the SSR is giving me critical training and experience so I can join a department as soon as I’m out of service.”

“And now, there are three teams of eight in the SSR, right?”

“And more. What people don’t know is that launching a service like this requires a lot of coordination. For example, we have two pilots assigned to our Blackhawk helicopter. There are twenty-four people in the SSR office tracking everything from projected weather patterns and potential natural disasters to the logistics of whether our van is properly supplied with everything we might need. We even have a person who coordinates our activities with local law enforcement and emergency first responders.”