With respect to the passing on of George Houser, on August 19, 2015, I would like to say some words of remembrance.
George Houser, first of all, was a man for whom I held an enormous amount of respect.
The Afghan Peace Volunteers, based in Kabul, Afghanistan, are partnering with many organizations and individuals around the world to say we have all had ENOUGH.
While he lived well into his 99th year, the world lost a champion for justice last week. George House was my mentor, role model, and dear friend. Other than my father, he was the man who had the greatest influence on my life.
“This little light of mine, I’m gonna’ let it shine! Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.”
George Houser hired me in 1980 to work at the American Committee on Africa (ACOA). We had already known each other for 15 years and would remain colleagues and friends until the end. There are too many stories to tell.
George Houser was a mentor, friend, co-worker, and a giant of a human being. Some of the things I appreciated about George include:
I was not fortunate enough to know George in his youth, at the height of his activism on desegregation and civil rights in this country, and the struggle for freedom for the colonized peoples of Africa, and to end apartheid.
George Houser, a leader in the racial justice, anti-war, and African liberation struggles, died yesterday at Friends House in Santa Rosa, California. He was 99.
Some of us chuckled when we first learned of the title of George Houser’s 1989 memoir, No One Can Stop the Rain. Though we appreciated the homage which George was giving to Angolan freedom fighter and poet Agostino Neto, who penned that line while in prison in 1960, we were also aware of an additional truth.
Less than a hundred feet from residences, local authorities discovered the badly decomposed body of a transgender woman of color. The Dallas Police Department put out a detailed description of the body and asked for help. For two weeks, no one seemed to know who this woman was. When the woman was finally identified as 22-year-old Shade Schuler, I realized that she belonged to