Anyone who doubts the anti-war movement is alive and well in Baltimore should have been at our Washington
Monument on April 26, at 8:30 a.m. At this time about 80 activists are helping launch a three-day, 40-mile march to
Washington DC. The rain, which will continue until the afternoon, fails to dampen our spirits. Speeches are given;
we sing and then set out on schedule. The local police, some of whom have been witnessed
beating up nonviolent
anti-war, Critical Mass bicyclist protesters a month ago, are on the scene and taking shelter in
unmarked vehicles. There will be no complaints today from us about the men in blue.
The cops in three Maryland counties will ensure that the marchers are safe and not interfered with.
This march is a product of the Baltimore Anti-War Coordinating Committee (BAWCC). The
slogan on our flyers,
“The cost of war is paid by the poor”, explains our purpose. We are carrying half a dozen large
banners with captions like “Money for healthcare/Not for war”. The first leg is from Baltimore to
Elkridge. The second is from Elkridge to College Park. The third is to the White House.
About 55 activists, aged 10 to the mid-fifties, are marching the first leg, with half a dozen more
lending support. We are, in my biased view, a beautiful site to see. While motivated by the steady
drumbeat and rhythmic chanting supplied by Ichikawa, a Japanese Buddhist nun, we march through some
lower-class neighborhoods heading Southeast. The people in this part of town who pay taxes have not
seen much benefit from paying tribute to the Pentagon for decades. None of the 2.1 trillion dollars
that the Bush administration plans to funnel to “defense” in the next five years will be spent
renovating these buildings, many of which are infested with vermin and have lead paint at dangerous levels.
Besides the police escort, we are also accompanied by two support vehicles, one of which is equipped
with a portable toilet. A blister is starting to form on my left foot when we make a bathroom stop at a
McDonalds outside the city limits around 11:00 a.m. It is here that I violate all norms of sustainable
decency by purchasing (and enjoying) a vanilla McDonalds “shake” (i.e., they are NOT milkshakes). Needless to
say, this social faux pas, observed (and sharply criticized) by our indefatigable lead march organizer
Virginia Rodino, will be repeatedly referred to during the day as an example of my insensitivity to
progressive issues. As well it should be!
Thirteen miles into the program we arrive at the Grace Episcopal Church in Elkridge and stop for lunch. We
are a weary bunch. Thankfully the rain has just stopped. We have falafel, enjoy
Marble Tag provided by Baltimore activist
David Greene and use stencils to decorate T-shirts. I ask some participants why they are protesting. Marilyn
Carlisle says that she is fearful that the invasion and occupation of Iraq is the start of a pattern. Victoria
Cunningham, an excellent singer and Code Pink member from DC, believes that the people who are seeing our
protest are making it worthwhile for her. Mark Giffen, a pensive fourth-grade school teacher from Baltimore,
believes that the protest is enabling him to “stay human.” He also refuses to cooperate with the occupation of
Iraq which he considers “to be a crime”.
We start again under the direction of Penny Howard, another key organizer. We have five miles to
the end of the first leg. This part is grueling for me. A second and third blister will be forming
on my left foot during this stretch. With almost every step I am reminded that the sneakers I left at
home would have been a much better choice than the rigid Doc Martens I am wearing.
Many motorists driving by honk at us in support of our message. Fewer, still, give us the time-
honored middle-fingered salute. Some of the latter demand that we all go home. We respond that
we are at home. Others yell, “support our troops!” We respond by yelling back we are. We want
them to come home and the unlawful militarism to end.
We complete the first leg, 13 miles into the march around 5:00 p.m. Most of us are exhausted. The
support team shuttles us to the nearby St. Stephens Church. The dinner that evening is glorious.
We meet the members of the Howard County Coalition Against War (HCCAW). The HCCAW serves us generous
portions of healthy food they have prepared. (They will also be putting most of us up for the night.) We go
around the room, and briefly introduce ourselves and discuss why we are involved in this event. With
about sixty people present, this takes a while. We pass a hat and collect for St. Stephens. When the
satisfying dinner and introductions are complete we close the evening by enthusiastically singing a
few marching songs from the 1960s that have been altered with contemporary references.
It is a dinner I won’t soon forget. The sense of community I feel in that room is powerful and moving. The
isolation that many of us felt after the terrible events of September 11, 2001, has been replaced with
the feeling that none of us are now alone. The anti-war movement continues to give people hope that
better tomorrows are in store for us so long as we work together to achieve it.
The Bush administration is a cancer on this Earth that will stop at nothing to obtain its
global-strategic goals. Still, if we work together to fight it we can determine our own fate. A few
blisters and sore feet is a small price to pay today if we can protect our democracy for the future.