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http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20101213/ap_on_re_us/us_turbans_on_the_hill
By HELEN O'NEILL, AP Special Correspondent Helen O'neill, Ap Special Correspondent – Mon Dec 13, 3:11 am ET
SIDNEY CENTER, N.Y. – The cemetery lies beneath a grove of maples on a hill overlooking the farm. On a crisp November day in 2009, it received its first guest — a 28-year old stonemason killed in a car accident two days earlier.
Somberly, his Sufi Muslim brethren carried his coffin up the hill, their colorful turbans and baggy tunics a striking contrast to the rolling hills all around. Beneath a vibrant green headstone — the color of the Osmanli Naksibendi Hakkani order, which runs a 50-acre farm and mosque here — the shrouded body of Amir Celoski was lowered into the ground. Mourners bowed their heads and prayed: May he rest in peace.
But that was not to be.
Instead of peace, Celoski's burial ignited a war — one that would erupt nine months later, hurling Sidney into the national spotlight, bitterly dividing some residents while transforming others who say their lives and their town will never be the same.
It all began quietly enough at a sparsely attended meeting of the Board of Supervisors last summer, after a second burial in the cemetery. At the height of a national debate about a mosque near ground zero, town leaders voted unanimously to investigate the Sufi graves on Wheat Hill Road.
The Sufis had followed proper procedures and received burial permits. But that didn't deter town Supervisor Robert McCarthy from calling the graves illegal and suggesting the bodies might have to be disinterred.
"You can't just bury Grandma in the backyard under the picnic table," he said.
With that, McCarthy, a 70-year-old retired businessman, became a poster child for Muslim-bashing everywhere. MSNBC host Keith Olbermann denounced him as "worst person in the world." Satirist Stephen Colbert direly warned viewers about Muslim vampire "sleeper-in-coffin-cells" infiltrating the Catskills.
Locals watched in horror as Sidney was branded as Islamophobic, backward and ignorant.
"It was sickening," says attorney Tom Schimmerling, 58, the son of Holocaust survivors, who immediately offered to represent the Sufis free of charge. "McCarthy was acting like this was Selma, Ala., in the '60s and he was Bull Connor."
"At first I felt so ashamed of my town," said Richard Cooley, 48, whose Main Street jewelry store has been in the family for 125 years. "And then I saw how the community reacted and I thought how amazing the way we pulled together to do away with something so wrong and make it right."
For in the days and weeks that followed, a spirited, almost intoxicating sense of mission seemed to surge through Sidney, 150 miles north of New York City. Though the town Board of Supervisors hastily dropped the cemetery issue, it had set in motion something it couldn't contain. People reached out, not only to Sufis, but to each other. They set up websites, bonded on Facebook, launched petitions to impeach McCarthy and investigate town government.
They packed into the civic center for a chaotic town meeting, where — as more than a dozen Sufis looked on — about 150 locals yelled at their board. "Shame on you!" they cried. "Apologize!"
Many had never been to a town meeting before. Many had never met a Muslim.
And they trekked to the Sufi center eight miles outside town, to sip tea with the sheik, to vow that Sidney, population 6,000, will be in the spotlight again, this time as a shining example of tolerance and understanding.
By HELEN O'NEILL, AP Special Correspondent Helen O'neill, Ap Special Correspondent – Mon Dec 13, 3:11 am ET
SIDNEY CENTER, N.Y. – The cemetery lies beneath a grove of maples on a hill overlooking the farm. On a crisp November day in 2009, it received its first guest — a 28-year old stonemason killed in a car accident two days earlier.
Somberly, his Sufi Muslim brethren carried his coffin up the hill, their colorful turbans and baggy tunics a striking contrast to the rolling hills all around. Beneath a vibrant green headstone — the color of the Osmanli Naksibendi Hakkani order, which runs a 50-acre farm and mosque here — the shrouded body of Amir Celoski was lowered into the ground. Mourners bowed their heads and prayed: May he rest in peace.
But that was not to be.
Instead of peace, Celoski's burial ignited a war — one that would erupt nine months later, hurling Sidney into the national spotlight, bitterly dividing some residents while transforming others who say their lives and their town will never be the same.
It all began quietly enough at a sparsely attended meeting of the Board of Supervisors last summer, after a second burial in the cemetery. At the height of a national debate about a mosque near ground zero, town leaders voted unanimously to investigate the Sufi graves on Wheat Hill Road.
The Sufis had followed proper procedures and received burial permits. But that didn't deter town Supervisor Robert McCarthy from calling the graves illegal and suggesting the bodies might have to be disinterred.
"You can't just bury Grandma in the backyard under the picnic table," he said.
With that, McCarthy, a 70-year-old retired businessman, became a poster child for Muslim-bashing everywhere. MSNBC host Keith Olbermann denounced him as "worst person in the world." Satirist Stephen Colbert direly warned viewers about Muslim vampire "sleeper-in-coffin-cells" infiltrating the Catskills.
Locals watched in horror as Sidney was branded as Islamophobic, backward and ignorant.
"It was sickening," says attorney Tom Schimmerling, 58, the son of Holocaust survivors, who immediately offered to represent the Sufis free of charge. "McCarthy was acting like this was Selma, Ala., in the '60s and he was Bull Connor."
"At first I felt so ashamed of my town," said Richard Cooley, 48, whose Main Street jewelry store has been in the family for 125 years. "And then I saw how the community reacted and I thought how amazing the way we pulled together to do away with something so wrong and make it right."
For in the days and weeks that followed, a spirited, almost intoxicating sense of mission seemed to surge through Sidney, 150 miles north of New York City. Though the town Board of Supervisors hastily dropped the cemetery issue, it had set in motion something it couldn't contain. People reached out, not only to Sufis, but to each other. They set up websites, bonded on Facebook, launched petitions to impeach McCarthy and investigate town government.
They packed into the civic center for a chaotic town meeting, where — as more than a dozen Sufis looked on — about 150 locals yelled at their board. "Shame on you!" they cried. "Apologize!"
Many had never been to a town meeting before. Many had never met a Muslim.
And they trekked to the Sufi center eight miles outside town, to sip tea with the sheik, to vow that Sidney, population 6,000, will be in the spotlight again, this time as a shining example of tolerance and understanding.
