Here we go again, more rallies, more marches. I won't put in every one I attend, but given the weather of snow, I thought some photos would be interesting.
I love Vermont for its feistiness. And I do have a deep affection for our State House, because we can go in there, talk with our representatives and senators. We truly have access in ways that I imagine in larger states one doesn't.
Anyway, so very Vermont-ish, so very 21st-century, rather than 1960s Vietnam War protest rallies as someone old enough to have gone to such things chided me. I started the morning off with a croissant and coffee, knowing I was going to be spending 90 minutes or more standing outside in 10-degree weather. Good book, too, BTW (Imperial Life in the Emerald City). I carried a sign I made that refers to the interview this week with Jim Leherer and the President: 'The egg is broken, not cracked, Mr Bush' (i.e., is a cracked egg any better than a broken one????).
Some Vermonters had posters of Iraqi citizens, while others carried boots representing Vermont's 21 fallen troops. I asked the man who had these boots, if the deceased was a relative of his and he said no. The woman next to him rebutted both of us, saying, 'They are ALL ours.' She had tears in her eyes. I stood chagrined.
We had all of Main Street and State Street to ourselves so the organisers kept telling us: Spread out! You don't need to bunch up! You have the whole street to yourself! I think the signs say a fair amount. No Bread and Puppet Theater people there but there were a few big puppets. (I remember in the march on Washington in 1991 during the FIRST Iraq War, walking down Pennsylvania Avenue in front of Bread and Puppet -- they had three groups: skeletons, weeping women and birds. I wish I could remember if the birds were doves or vultures because it makes quite a difference in the statement.)
It is a relatively short walk from City Hall, where we started to the state house, one I do often because that walk largely covers the entire commercial area of Montpelier (we have the country's smallest capitol, after all). We walked past the Episcopal Church in town and, actually, I ended up walking with a colleague who has long been an activist, who would dearly love to be in Washington DC next weekend save for annual meeting. Neither she nor I can bear the idea of arriving back in Vermont at 5.00 AM (having travelled all night by bus) to tackle Sunday morning. So we showed up today and will let others walk for us next week.
The state house sits on a small rise and is built of Barre granite (of course — Rock of Ages quarry, that up until this year, had the contract to make the tombstones for all the national cemeteries, including Arlington... now they are in competition with China and other places). Flags are still at half mast for Gerald Ford, an interesting historical juxtaposition. The steps were mostly cleared of snow.
The rally lasted an hour because of the snow and low temperature.
A brave soul, who had won a contest for the best anti-war song, bravely bared his fingers and played his guitar in accompaniment to his words. I don't remember them — something about being mad and stopping the escalation.
The shot looking backward to show the crowd (we were about 300, which is pretty good, given the driving conditions, but there were a bunch of people from Burlington and even further, Enosburg Falls). The building in the background across the street is where the Department of Motor Vehicles resides.
The side shot simply shows the length of the crowd. It's always good to spread out across the lawns. In the background is the building for the Vermont Historical Society (to the right), in a former hotel. The modern edifice behind it is the Pavillion, where all sorts of state offices (including income tax, I've been there, unfortunately!) live.
The boots on the capitol steps represent Vermont's fallen. This state has had a disproportionate amount of soldiers per capita die in Iraq.
One of the speakers was a Marine on his last day of enlistment. He said he was standing in front of the state house, speaking at a rally against the escalation in Iraq on his last day of active duty and he was trying to figure out what his next 'mission' would be. He is having to find a new vocabulary and new ways of responding to the war. Two other Iraq vets also spoke.
Eventually the rally ended in a flurry of snow, sudden swirling gusts of snow. While the organisers had kept it short, the rally was long enough that we had cold fingers, toes, and faces. But at least we have our toes, fingers, faces and, indeed, lives. Being cold is a small, small thing to endure when put into that perspective.
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