Posted on 03/28/2003 10:37:15 AM PST by Flora McDonald
I made a spur of the moment decision to Freep the Anti-America March as I was waiting to leave Innsbrook Pavillion after the Rally for America. 7,000 Americans came together there, sang together and prayed for our leaders, our courageous soldiers and, yes, our enemies.
The anti-war folks had a full weekend. http://richmond.indymedia.org/ On Saturday, after their workshops and street theatre classes they were going to party all night. That meant they couldn’t start the drum circle going in Monroe Park until the hangovers had dissipated a bit, around 4 p.m. or so. Then, they would tackle the issues of war and peace and lavish rice and lentils on the homeless. They were supposed to march down Monument Ave. and rally again at the foot of Robert E. Lee’s statue for the racism part of the rally. Then back down Monument to VCU to protest tuition increases and finally back to Monroe Park for a candlelight vigil sponsored by the Women in Black , many of whom were wearing Code Pink buttons by the way. http://www.codepink4peace.org/ (From what I saw, no one was naked or wearing pink undies over their clothes.)
After parking at the Robert E. Lee statue, I met up with a young couple who had also been to the Rally for America. I asked if they were Freepers, they said they were Hindu and I knew we would get along just fine. Cal lost his job in New York after Sept. 11th and is the son of a Cuban refugee. We then hooked up with 4 or 5 college kids dressed in riot gear. One of them had on a black kevlar helmet and what looked like a bullet proof vest. They had a very large SUPPORT OUR TROOPS sign and one that just said ATTACK. The Hindu couple had an American Flag and several signs including one with a pre-Saddam Iraqi flag . We took pictures of each other and they discussed strategy. Two buses pulled up, empty, to hold arrestees, the Mounted Police showed up, the State Police showed up, the City Police showed up and I was getting very, very nervous.
We made our stand across the end of the traffic median as the marchers approached. It was like the night the lights went out in Georgia. The sun and life went out of the day. We stood in the twilight as a group broke away and came charging at us. My husband doesn’t even know I am here...what the….Photographers! Well, that broke the tension and we all laughed. The marchers did not expect us and were not pleased. For what seemed forever, all eyes were on us. We were surrounded and my colleagues loved it. They were absolutely fabulous. They knew all the slogans and would give back better than they got and would just fall out laughing which infuriated the marchers even more. Finally realizing that we had become center stage, so to speak, the anti-everythings regrouped at the foot of the statue and someone started ranting on a megaphone with low batteries. It was impossible to hear the speeches. The drums kept drumming and a smarmy mass undulated in front of us. What is that smell? The kid in the helmet yelled, “It’s the Patchouli People!!!” ( Can you believe spell check has patchouli on it?) So here they came with tambourines, a big sunburst with flowers and a sign that made the papers next day, BONGS NOT BOMBS.
A man of the cloth came up and carefully read my signs: EVIL TRIUMPHS WHEN GOOD MEN DO NOTHING and GOD BLESS OUR SONS, OUR DAUGHTERS, OUR TROOPS & OUR PRESIDENT and ST. MICHAEL THE ARCHANGEL, DEFEND THEM IN BATTLE with a silhouette of the Iwo Jima monument underneath. He saw me watching him and in a gesture reminiscent of the demented son of Marcus Aurelius in the movie Gladiator, he slowly raised his fist at my signs and gave a most eloquent thumbs down.
Over the drums and noise we began to hear “USA! USA!” A group of Patriots (it was dark, but I would guess 15 to 20) had followed the marchers and although not allowed by the police to join us, it was music to our ears. There was a video clip of them on one of the local TV stations that night. Every now and then, a Patriot would manage to find their way to our position, one of whom was a very pretty, fragile looking coed holding a sign in honor of her father serving in the Navy.
As soon as it was dark enough, the Cockroach Contingent made their move across our flank. They charged with black flags (how appropriate) and beating drums, brushing by us but not knocking us down. They grouped on the curb for photo ops and I squeezed in between 2 drummers with my signs so they couldn’t use the pictures on their website. http://richmond.indymedia.org/ Most of the males had their faces covered, most of the females did not. Hmmm. The marchers headed back to Monroe Park where they ended their evening with a wild run through the streets,vandalizing the National Guard Office on Broad Street among other things. I did not follow, feeling the need to go home and take a shower.
One police officer on the scene estimated the anti-war crowd at 700. I was very grateful for the presence of the young policeman who seemed to be close at hand throughout the confrontation.
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