We've had quite a few great diaries in the last couple of days discussing the March for Peace that was held on September the 15th. I'm not sure who posted the first, although I know that the drunken live blogging episode from the patio of the Holiday Inn had to be one of them. There will be more in the days to come. I know this because I have several more in me, dealing with issues ranging from the Freeper contingent, to trying to build an alternative to take away what I consider to be the poorest excuse of all for not exercising our right to free speech through protest, ANSWER. But for this post, I'm going to pop open an icy cold Corona, drop in a slice of lemon, and reflect on the goodness of fellowship with dear friends, old and new, and the wonder of raising my voice in opposition to the Iraq War in our nation's Capitol.
Our little Road2DC road trip began when jlynne rented a minivan...
and took to the road from the Fort Collins/Boulder area. Here is the lovely jlynne standing in front of SCUS. You can't really get a sense of her beautiful smile from this pic, but I've used this one at her request (she has photos of my big behind, after all. What's an old woman to do?)
She picked up our Vietnam War Veteran, aeneas1948. This is him, pre-protest...
Then headed towards Denver to pick up our gentle anarchist, Papillon. There's no sweeter kid on earth than our own personal anarchist...
From there they were off to get skippyinthebox in Omaha. Notice he's got his "Gore" tee-shirt on (Yeah!)...
Then they were on the road to pick up me in Chicago. That's me, with my massive sign and the Freeper meet-up in the very distant background in front of the Washington Monument...
I fed the crew and they all freshened up and drank copious amounts of coffee, then we headed out to pick up the charming and tolerant pico, the last of our crew to join us in the car. Here he is holding my sign for me so I can take pictures. More on the sign later....
Picking up pico turned out to be more of a chore than anyone anticipated. For our convenience, he graciously agreed to meet us in Toledo. But due to exhaustion and poor navigating skills on my part, we ended up touring Michigan, on the road that would have taken us within blocks of his house. By the time we discovered our error, poor pico had been sitting in a Bob Evan's restaurant outside of Toledo for an hour. Two hours later we pulled into what we thought was the right Bob Evan's next to a BP gas station, just as pico had instructed us to do. Unfortunately for both pico and us, we had discovered the parallel universe of Toledo, where identical Bob Evan's restaurants with identical BP gas stations lurk on opposite sides of the highway at a diagonal from the north and south exits, which are several miles apart. After what seemed like an eternity, we finally found pico, consumed mass quantities of grease, and then headed out. Were pico a different kind of guy, an angry guy, we'd all be dead in one of the parallel universes of Toledo.
The rest of the trip was uneventful save for bouts of chatter and laughter. After a mere 46 hours from the time jlynne first began the journey, we finally arrived at our destination - a Holiday Inn nestled freakishly (yet lovingly) between FEMA....
and No Child Left Behind.
I know I felt warm, fuzzy and safe just knowing I was surrounded by the finest government agencies that the Bush Administration has to offer.
At the hotel we met up with srkp23 and Lithium Cola for a meal, a few medicinal libations and some sign-making. Here we all are, making signs....
The next morning, after fortifying ourselves with coffee (kindly retrieved by skippyinthebox), we set out to meet up with kossacks at the National Christmas tree. On our way there we happened to pass the meeting place for the Freepers, who were chanting "Michelle, Michelle" (for Michelle Malkin) with a ferver that was both amusing and pathetic. Here is their gathering place....
And the side of one of their buses....
We finally found the National Christmas Tree, where we met up with One Pissed Off Liberal, his son Daniel, bikemom, CTLiberal, fatbyjohnson and a whole host of other kossacks.....
At this point we parted ways with our aeneas1948, the veteran and Papillon, the anarchist, who went off to find their respective groups and prepare for the march ahead. Our group headed toward the White House, where the march was supposed to begin at noon.....
Although we knew there were going to be speeches, we were not really prepared for the interminable length of the opening festivities. There was alot of milling about.
We had to find ways to pass the time, and so we took pics.
Some things were disturbing....
Others were amusing....
Delaware's newest Congressional candidate, possum, showed up (Run, possum, run!!!!!)....
and greeted OPOL....
There were signs that spoke truth....
and signs that were heartening to see....
Some of the guys chatted amongst themselves.....
then posed as three monkeys....
See no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil, indeed.
Finally, finally, finally, it was time to march. We were all more than ready. The beginning of the march was filled with the ANSWER crowd, and there were little clumps from Code Pink everywhere....
and then we were on the move....
That sign of mine, distinctive front and back among all of the other signs, came in handy in keeping our little group from getting separated. You've seen the front view, here's the back....
It also came in handy towards the end of the marching route when we finally encountered those joyful, friendly people from Freeperville. The enchanting fellow with the bullhorn in these next two pics was screaming, "Where's your flags? Where's your flags?"
So I took his pic and then showed him my flags. It sort of stumped him for a moment, but he soon recovered and began sputtering, "You're all commies!!! You're all commies!!!" They must not have "commies" in Oklahoma, or at least he doesn't know any. That would explain his inability to tell the difference between a "commie" and an angry grandmother....
As you can see, I got pretty close to these charmers, close enough to get spit at....
But I'm still pretty quick for a stubby, round woman and was able to dodge the spitting. It was coming from the general direction of this woman, although I didn't see her or the two fellows on either side of her doing the spitting....
She did have to good sense to wear a hat to protect herself from the spitting, so perhaps she knew what to expect. They were a noisy crowd, they made up for in volume and crudity what they lacked in numbers. The cops along this point of the route were really pretty cool. They let me get close and take quite a few pictures before asking me nicely to step back.
I was called many things by the Freepers, most of which I didn't respond to. But as I was returning to my kind, they began to scream "You're killing the Troops!!! You're killing the Troops!!!" I found myself screaming back "No, you are!!!!" Then I turned my back to them and kept on walking.
We took a bit of a break when we reached the turn to the Capitol, but there was still a good crowd when we finally continued on and got up to where the action was.....
It took me awhile but I finally got near the front, close enough to get some pics of the civilian part of the die-in....
There were a good many people who participated in the die-in, but not nearly as many as have lost their lives in this senseless war....
Little did I know that just beyond the civilians dying-in, aeneas1948, our Vietnam Veteran and Papillon, our gentle anarchist, were going about the business of getting arrested. aeneas1948 was given a modicum of respect due to his veteran status, but poor Papillon got doused in pepper spray. Both were carted off to jail and languished there for over 12 hours. We didn't see them again until the near dawn hours of the next morning.
You all know what happened among those of us who didn't have the thrill of jail time to look forward to once the march was ended. Drunken blogging is what happened after that, followed by a healthy sleep. The next morning we all got up, ate a good brunch, and then those of us who were headed to western territory parted company with the rest. Our little group spent the rest of the day touring the various memorials and monuments. The images from that excursion will show up in future diaries, I'm sure.
It was a good trip, and fulfilling in many ways. There is much to be said for exercising our right to protest, our right to free speech. There's a feeling of community that can't be found anywhere else. Coming together with people who share your ideas and your anger and making new friends is a very special thing, and one not to be taken for granted. Sometimes we feel like we're out there banging away in the dark. Alone. But we're not, there are many out there just like us, mothers and fathers, grandmothers and children, veterans and anarchists, and so many other different people all sharing the same anger, the same dream. Nothing can show us just how many there are and how well we can get along as something like this can show us, something as simple as coming together to raise our voices in unison and marching for what we all hold dear and sacred.
As I conclude, I'll leave you with one last thing, a parting gift that was given to our little group on the banks of the Potomac as we climbed into our little van and headed west once again, toward home.....
Peace.