My Experience at the Protest March

The people took over the streets of D.C. on Saturday! What an exhilarating experience….to join up with so
many thousands of people to express our contempt and disgust over Chuckie Cheese in the White House!

One of the best protest signs I saw:

“Eight years of whining about ethics and this is how you get in the White House?”

Our bus from NYC was packed and so were all the other buses. I don’t know how many took off—I lost count at
30 something.

We arrived an hour late and when we got to the march the street was filled with protesters as far as the eye
could see. A few blocks later we looked back and again we could not see the end of the protesters. Keeping in
mind that we were an hour late and it only took 20-30” to do the full march to Pennsylvania Ave, it seems that
scene could theoretically have been duplicated several times, at least from the point where I was standing.

There were self-appointed drummers, and as we walked, people would break out in chants. Many were carrying
protest signs and I, too, was carrying one (Not My Prez!). The signs were so clever and many had spent much
time designing their message.  There was a sign with a head pic of smirk and he had one of those ruffly collars
around his neck.  Another sign said, "If you can read this sign you're not George W. Bush!"  Another said, "W
Stands for 'Worry!'"

Lots of criticism of the supreme court.  "Supreme Treason," said one.  Another: "Clarence Thomas--the Only
Black Vote that Counted."

Many posters had printed out the Alfred E Neumann morph job that The Nation did so well.  "Political Bushit"
was another frequently seen sign, as was "Bush Doesn't Count." A protester had put Bush's head inside a long
white wig and called it "The Madness of King George the II." There must have been a group that coordinated
this because I kept seeing people running around in long black robes wearing a swastika button and court jester
hats.  There were morphed images of Cheney's head on a pig.

As we marched, people in the townhouses would come out and wave their Gore/Leiberman signs campaign
signs and T-shirts.  The crowds would cheer when that happened.

Many people were dressed in costumes and danced as we marched down the street.  This was, after all, the
people's counter-inaugural parade.  While liberal protests are often admonished to tone it down and act more
mainstream, I personally think the beauty of these things is the individual creativity that is expressed. This is why
we are not rethugnicans, after all.

Now and then a protester would speak up with the help of a sound amplification device.  "Bush is a Serial
Killer!"  When we arrived at the checkpoint stand, there was a guy in a costume with a megaphone reminding
everyone of their constitutional rights and how they were being violated, right then and there.  We should not
have to have our bags searched before we are granted access to the street to exercise our right of free
speech.  The guy was really funny as he kept up his ongoing monologue and he did a terrific public service by
reminding everyone that what they were doing is unconstitutional.

It was such an experience, to march with all these people who understand that our democracy has been
hijacked and who are doing something about it. I only wish I could describe the feelings—I am afraid my words
will fail me. When I saw the streets so full of people I was excited and enthusiastic but it was when we arrived at
1300 Pennsylvania Avenue and saw that literally, we had taken the streets by sheer numbers  that I felt this
incredible surge of energy. I felt like I was going to explode, like energy was coming out of my fingertips and the
top of my head. Everyone was shouting, “Hail to the Thief! Hail to the Thief!” The energy in the crowd was
electric! I joined in the shouting, yelling at the top of my lungs, “Hail to the Thief!!” I felt like this is what I should be
doing! This is what is important! I felt so in my element and I felt such a bond with the others there.

There was such anger in the voices—also power, derision, contempt—this is what I heard expressed. It felt so
good, just so good to get all those feelings out, especially in the company of so many people of a similar mind.

Even Rethugnicans Know Right from Wrong

When we first arrived there were rethugnicans here and there but they quickly saw the dimension of the protests
and disappeared. We saw many of them scurrying into the Hotel Willard (I kid you not--what a great name for a
hotel that houses rethugnicans!). What a sight! You can pick out a rethug anywhere—as they slinked into the
shadows like rats in their fur coats, all smelly from the rain.
 

The Hotel Willard, where the republicanrats scurried
in to escape the rain and the massive numbers of
protesters

When we did see them and looked at them, they looked away—they could not meet our eyes—to me, an
indicator that they know what they did is wrong.

More than once young rethugs said, "White Power!" They would say this quickly and in a regular conversational
voice level, knowing full well how totally unacceptable it is.  My Jewish companion responded, "Yes, that's really
what this is all about, isn't it--white power."

On the buses and trains in D.C. yesterday, while going to the various protest points, I had the opportunity to sit
with different people who told me they were Jewish. So many of them, with eyes that clouded over and faces
that expressed worry and concern, said, "I had to come out today.  You see, this is how it starts..."

Kristallnacht.

There were many poignant moments for me at yesterday's protests but I think these were among the most
moving.

How rethugnicans Deal with Protesters:  Trapped by the Police

There were some ugly, scary moments, too, such as when we were surrounded by police on one block and we
could not go anywhere. My first clue that something was wrong were the helicopters flying overhead so low—I
counted the stories on a building near us and it was 14 stories. I would say the helicopters were flying at the
height of an 18-story building.

Then, all of a sudden, there were police blocking off the streets. We could not go forward, backwards or
sideways. We were locked into this block. The police were in riot gear and had their ugly batons in hand, all
standing next to each other so we could not get through. It looked so controlling and menacing, so evil. My
companion went up to one and asked why we were blocked from going anywhere and was told that on the block
ahead a protester had thrown a newspaper stand, that glass had been broken, and that someone was slitting
tires.

Well—an aside—I went down that street later and saw no evidence of broken glass. And as far as the tires go,
a protester would have had to slit the tires of the police because they were the only ones in vehicles on that
street. I do think there was some kind of minor incident but I think it was more an excuse by the police to break
up the huge numbers they saw. You see, earlier, on the bus, we had been warned about the tactics of
rethugnicans in regard to protesters. What I learned was that at the rethug convention, when they nominated
smirk to be their candidate, they got wind of the protesters and locked them up for 12 hours before and during
the convention. This with their hands tied behind their backs. I understand these cases are now in litigation
because of the rights that were violated.

At one point I went up to the row of police officers. There was a commander type dressed in a trenchcoat and
suit beside them (we saw many police types dressed in garb that did not look police-like—all in an attempt to
make this look less menacing—in sweaters, for example). I told him I wanted to continue with the march and he
admonished me that I did not want to be involved in a violent protest, now did I? I said, looking him straight in the
eye, “I think that’s a decision for me to make, not you. I then asked,  “Now will you let me through?” I said this in
my normal tone of voice, but forgot that police types are not used to being challenged. Anger surged in his face
and then BINGO, training sessions kicked in. He cooled off, was very diplomatic and continued trying to
persuade me that it would not be in my own best interest to continue forward. Well, being a former
communications trainer, my little training soul was so touched that he remembered his lessons that I backed
off.

Eventually they opened the side streets and “allowed” us to continue our march. People found their way down to
the main area and continued the protest. I bring this up only to show how controlling and manipulative they were
and to show you the tactics they use to shut down what is our constitutional right. Oh yes, wouldn't it just be too
scary if the media caught a picture of that massive number of protesters.

The Rain

It was so cold, so rainy and so miserable out there. People tried to laugh it off, saying, “Even God is raining on
bush’s parade!” Others said, “What a dismal day—it’s like a commentary on what the next four years will be
like.” I was so chilled and I have to think others were, too, but no one was leaving because we all wanted to be
there to hurl our disgust at the limousine cowboy- pretender prez as he passed by. I also think it is one of their
tactics to delay-delay-delay because he was supposed to pass by at 2:45 but he did not do so until much, much
later. And finally, when he did there was huge chorus of “booooooooo.” It felt so good to know my voice was part
of that massive boo.

 
Protesters raised their signs when bush and cheney
drove by

People came through the crowds saying they’d found a little pocket of rethugs down toward the end, trying to
enjoy the parade. They suggested we go down and join them. I really wanted to do this but couldn’t because I
was waiting for someone. So instead we told everyone we could about the little pocket of rethugs and to go
down to help them cheer/jeer at the president select.

One funny moment came when the rethugs scurried into the Hotel Willard (see photo above). Ah yes, so much
better to sip chardonnay fireside than to be out there with those reminders of how they perverted the democratic
process. So a group of young protesters (and btw, this was an amazingly young crowd) lined up on the knoll in
front of the hotel, each with a sign that spelled out one letter of a message.

 
Protesters communicating to those watching the
parade at the Hotel Willard

Then they turned around, bent over, and mooned the rethugs! Yeah, like 20 bare butts flashing right up at the
rethugs! So funny! And I believe I was the only one snapping photographs.

Yes, I think we all feel this way about republicans about now

I heard from another protester that there so many of us that bush could only emerge from his car to wave at
supporters for just a brief time. In effect, there were no significantly long stretches of supporters for bush. So
think of the impact—how as he rode in his coronation parade, all he heard were the jeers of his “subjects.” Yes,
while legitimately elected presidents are able to victoriously walk down Pennsylvania Ave, the
Not-Nearly-Curious-Enough george had to hide out in his new limo. Some victory.