An unending sea of people kept pouring onto the 8thAvenue IND platform.
And every train pulling into the station was already crammed full of other seas of other people from other places.
We were fed up and we were not going to take it any more.
... fathers on crutches.
And these environmental scientists who had flown over other seas to be here.
The sky filled with steel birds.
And silk ones...
and a few real ones, usually considered pests, but today reminding us to speak for them and their brethren.
So we did.
It was all very powerful and all very exciting.
To be together.
To fight together.
To stand as one.
And in a moment called for silence, to raise our hands in protest.
And then to raise our voices in rage and defiance.
and pray in protest.
It was all very powerful and all very exciting. And very, very loud. Except, of course, those praying in protest.
But revolution always start with a single and determined step, and sometimes it is taken alone.
She must have been in her eighties.
She was by herself.
It took her almost 10 minutes to climb the stairs out of the subway, the sea of people pouring around her, but she didn't stop.
She would take a step, then rested, then another, then rested, then...
When she got to the top of the stairs, she pushed aside the barricades set up to keep us orderly and crossed the street to the front of the march.
It was Her New York.
And she was marching to make sure it stayed that way.
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Related Posts:
The March
Desperately Seeking Her New York - An Encore
How Fragile We Are, How Fragile We Are
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Birds' picture: Ted Krever
