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What Danny Means to Me by Maureen Savinov

It’s hard for me to explain what Danny means to me, because it might seem disproportionate to the time we actually spent together. It essentially boils down to this: a 15+ year friendship of cross country story sharing, chance encounters, and a love for Rage, Blind Melon, & the author Russell Banks.

I met Danny when I was 18 and we were both (unfortunately) employed at Qdoba Royal Oak. I can still picture meeting Danny a) because he had a ponytail & wore baggy clothes, which was  to me at the time, and b) he was nice & genuine & he read books! We hung out for a few months until we both quit/got fired; I moved to LA, I know he moved to Chicago at some point. We stayed in touch every so often, but it was always easy to fall back in.

He visited once while I was living in Venice & we had what felt like a real beat adventure of walking the beach, drinking, talking, reading and napping on sandy blankets. I idolized Danny and I still do. He was the only person in my life who knew what Myanmar was when I went there a few years ago, and he was so geeked to ask me questions and actually listen. We stayed friends when we both ended up back in Detroit, and for the five years I waitressed at Honest Johns I got to spend more time talking with Dan

ny when he came in with schoolwork or to grab a beer. What I want people to know about Danny is that he’s a sparkly person. He’s so special and rare and actually listens and is excited about experiences and stories. It’s not easy to find people that really listen anymore, and Danny is one of those few. Danny, I’m re-reading Rule of the Bone for you, because reading is my praying and it’s the best way for me to think of you.

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Across the Distance by Charleen Markle

Across the distance of 9,000 miles from Yangon to New Iberia, I can feel your spirit. The power and purity of your soul reach this far. No prison walls can contain your strength. You have within you everything you need to survive this ordeal. And you have the love, care and concern of all your family and friends. I know you can feel it when you sit in stillness and reach out to us. Although we are far apart, I send faith as a pillow to rest your head upon. I send hope as a blanket to wrap around your shoulders. And I send love as a light to shine your way home.

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From Noa with Love

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For Danny by Hannah Saltmarsh

#BringDannyHome

Only beautiful now in the gallery of drawings

of his circle glasses, green beanie, the straps of his knapsack

that animate the ephemeral essence of a seeker and seer—

flash of blue eyes, tattoo in red and green blur, a double

layer on, himself a sketcher of passersby on beaches, a napkin

his canvas, a tinkerer of phrases, endless edits, meanings.

If it were someone else, not him, wrongly

imprisoned in Myanmar for his journalism, Danny Fenster 

would carry the story. Of not only a face, but the way of being

which is particular to him—having lived out of at least one van,

lived everywhere, nowhere, his comings and goings 

a blue amulet of Shalom Ya’ll on Louisiana driftwood. 

To write in the South is to sit and listen like sisters. 

He reported on gun violence, redlining, homelessness, 

then genocide, refugees in Burma, being himself a descendent 

of a survivor, who, in hiding, as an orphaned teenager, 

cut her own braid to live. Which is to say he keeps safe

his own name, family stories, is brave in the pause

after his question. He wrote down what people actually feel, 

something almost never done. His cousin Amy, also artist-writer kin, 

puts down in her own handwriting, Witness matters

beside the sketches of him since day four of prison. Alongside artists, 

she makes a loom of hands stretching like the ones in children’s books

necklacing the waters and puzzle-piece earth. This is where we.

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A Parent’s Lament by Buddy Fenster

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Danny in Hong Kong - by Adam White

Reunited with my hometown friend, Danny Fenster, after more than a decade. This is a photo of Danny immediately upon his arrival to Hong Kong's Central Station via the Airport Express. Danny had traveled to the other side of the world, he told me, to work on a new project in journalism. And all he brought was the backpack seen in this photo!

Danny stayed with us for around a week. We took him to a lot of our favorite places. We hiked section 2 of the Wilson trail, seen in the second photo. We went to Mong Kok and the camera mall (Danny really seemed to enjoy the camera mall). We introduced Danny to Xiaomi and he bought a smartphone. We had local beers and local noodles. Danny really enjoyed Sister Wah’s beef brisket noodle soup with vinegar. We also discovered something called monopterus, which we thought might work as the name of a Hip Hop group (but we eventually learned it is actually a type of eel popularly eaten with clay pot rice). (Danny at the place that serves monopterus clay pot rice).

An historic T10 typhoon hit Hong Kong on a Friday night and we found ourselves stuck in the apartment for the weekend. We cooked. We listened to music. We talked about geopolitics and the global economy. We talked about China and Hong Kong. Danny enlightened me on the struggles of the Rohingya people. We listened to more music, including D’Angelo’s Black Messiah (I actually had picked this one up years ago after reading Danny’s review of it).

Danny headed to Thailand for a while, where we met up with him briefly. Unfortunately our plans were cut short because I had food poisoning (too much Bangkok street food). But in the short time that we met up, Danny told me he had landed a gig in Yangon with an online news site. He had clearly enjoyed Thailand, but I could tell how excited he was to take on this new project in Myanmar.

Fast forward to today. Danny has been detained by the Myanmar military for 50 days, simply because he is a journalist. Progress is being made slowly but surely. Danny was finally able to speak with his family, and the US embassy has access to him. I have hope that Danny will be free again, and that we will think back to this time with incredulity that our friend was actually locked up for nothing more than speaking truth in the face of oppression.Danny, I can’t wait to read your book and watch the feature film about your story. I can’t wait to catch up with you again, wherever and whenever we happen to cross paths next. But most of all, I can’t wait to see the photos of you back in Michigan with your family!

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#BringDannyHome - by Gillian O’Brien

(originally published on Gillian’s blog, here)

I’ve always been interested in the news. Not just in what’s happened, but in how it’s reported and why. I’m interested in the stories that don’t get told, just as much as those that do.  The first piece I had published was about a newspaper, The Northern Star, which was the paper of the Society of United Irishmen. From its launch in January 1792 until it was forcibly silenced in May 1797 the paper championed the radical political and social ideas of the society. The Dublin Castle authorities believed it to have a malign influence on public opinion and for almost five and a half years the paper was pursued by them with a dedication bordering on zealotry. Trials, arrests without prospect of trial, use of informers,  even physical assaults were some of the approaches used by an increasingly desperate administration. Despite the arrest (without charge) of Samuel Neilson, the proprietor and editor, the Northern Star continued to publish until on 19 May 1797 when Crown forces broke into the newspaper’s Belfast office, ransacked the building and smashed the printing presses.

And more than 200 years later administrations around the world continue to attack free speech, continue to try to silence journalists and continue to destroy their means of communication. The threat to journalists and freedom of speech was brought even closer to home on 24 May this year when my friend and journalist Danny Fenster was arrested in Yangon, Myanmar, as he was about to board a flight to return to Detroit to visit his parents. I first met Danny in Dublin in 2005 when he was a student. Even then Danny’s curiosity, his interest in people, his wanderlust and his determination to give a voice to those that don’t have one was apparent. When we lived in Chicago we hung out at gigs and bars and exhibitions and general rambles around the city. Danny was never without at least one book, one notebook and a handful of pens stuffed into his pockets. After years working as a journalist in the United States and later in Thailand Danny is now the managing editor of Frontier Myanmar a weekly publication that is ‘an unbiased voice in transitional Myanmar’.

Danny’s family and the US embassy have had no response from the Myanmar authorities who have ignored repeated requests for information. He is being held in Insein Prison in Yangon, a prison well known for its harsh conditions and the torture of many of those held there. Built over a century ago and designed to house 5,000 inmates it now holds about 13,000. Danny is one of hundreds of political prisoners being illegally held there. Some are foreigners, but the vast majority are locals who have also been unlawfully detained and denied access to lawyers and family members. There is no free press any more in Myanmar, protests have been brutally silenced and thousands have been arrested. Danny, like many journalists who have been arrested, has been charged under the new Article 505(a) of the penal code which criminalises the dissemination of information that could agitate or cause security forces or state officials to mutiny. This is a law created by the leaders of the coup who are desperate to silence all opposition.

I’m most comfortable trying to make sense of the past and sometimes it takes a jolt to remind me to be more present, to see who is being silenced now and why. A free press is vital. Journalists, like Danny, are doing immensely brave work across the world, shining a light on stories that many governments and corporations might rather remained in the shadows. It is vital that the journalists arrested and silenced in countries across the world are not forgotten. They include Danny Fenster in Mayanmar, Roman Protasevich in Belarus, Rabah Kareche in Algeria, Rozina Islam in Bangladesh among many more.

More information on Danny and the efforts to free him can be found here: https://bringdannyhome.com/

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He Never Asks for Anything - by Jared Acker

Danny is the rare type of person that doesn't need much. It's so refreshing in this world. If he has a spot to sleep and is with people he loves and likes, he's happy. I can remember the ONLY time Danny ever asked me for anything, I was driving in from Denver to Telluride and he sheepishly asked me if I could bring him the "largest brick of Tillamook Cheese I could find." At the time, I remember thinking, wow, Danny must really like this cheese, he never asks for anything. 

I used to visit Danny in Telluride all the time when we both lived in Colorado, he worked at a hot dog shop and did freelance for the Telluride Daily Planet, the local paper. True to Danny's convictions and not surprisingly, he wrote about the plight of immigrants living and trying to survive in a majestic ski town with extreme wealth all around. 

We'd walk around the town and everybody knew him. He’d point out all the restaurants, not because they were good to eat at (most were too $$$ for us) but because he'd tell me about the Mexican cook or dishwasher who works there and has to take a bus 40 miles each day down the valley just to find affordable housing. No matter where Danny goes, he finds the marginalized people and fights for them, that's just who he is. 

We used to take the gondola up the mountain in the morning to his hot dog stand, all the snowboarders would pile in and we'd be 6 deep in a tiny gondola. The snowboarders would be talking about the party from the night before and Danny would be sitting quietly in the gondola's corner reading the "World News" section of the paper. I have learned so much from Dan, and ate so many hotdogs because of him as well.  I miss him. Let's get him home.

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Danny and his friend go on an adventure.

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JEFF NOLISH: Danny and I used to debate if the arc of the moral universe bent towards justice. We talked about it for days on end. We cited Coates and King. We interrogated privilege and power. Honestly, I don’t remember the conclusion (I was right), but I do remember the conversations because they were with the best conversationalist. Danny, I have to believe the arc of the moral universe bends towards justice because I need you to come home. We’re not done having our discussions. 

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Danny's wife, Juliana, reminds us that no matter where he is, Danny is gonna Danny. There are so many things she misses about their life together. 

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A blissful memory from an adventurous road-trip Katie Triest took with her pal, Danny. 

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Danny’s older brother, Bryan, describes a collaborative project the two undertook and the ways in which Danny’s humane and professional work-ethic made Bryan a better photographer and human.

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Welcome

Journalist Danny Fenster has been detained in Myanmar since May 24th, 2021. For his family, community, and anyone committed to freedom of the press it has been a heartbreaking period.

 We've created this page to celebrate our friend Danny through a form of communication that's close to the heart of any journalist: sharing stories. We'd like to invite you to contribute to this living archive to help keep Danny's name front and center in people's minds, show the world the wonderful person behind the news stories and hashtags, and show his family our support as we await his release.

 In about 300 words or a brief 2-4 minute voice memo (you can find easy instructions for iPhone users here), please send your Danny stories to DannyFensterStories@gmail.com with the following info:

1) Who are you and how do you know Danny?

2) What specifically do you want others to know about Danny?

3) What's your favorite Danny story/memory?