Thoughts

I've had two days now to absorb the events of September 12th. It's not enough. I don't know if any amount of time will ever be enough.

Since April 15th, I have gone to almost every Tea Party held anywhere in my area. Even before that, I was looking for a march on D.C. - wanting so very much to be part of what is, to me at least, a historical moment in American history. I heard several dates discussed - July 4th, September 12th, others - but wasn't sure it was really going to happen. I waited and watched, and finally, when it seemed certain that there would be a march on 9/12, with at least 15,000 people in attendance, we made reservations.

For weeks I have worried that we would look like a tiny blot of people on the Capitol lawn, made foolish by our tiny size before the immense Capitol building. How silly that seems in retrospect.

I wish I could find the words to explain to those of you who have not yet attended one of our events just what an amazing experience it is. You see it all depicted through the filter of the media - mostly left-leaning (or worse!) and virtually all clueless. They have not stood among the protesters, listening to the conversations. They, and you, if you haven't been there, simply don't understand.

The people who attend these protests are angry, no doubt. But they are so much more.

I would, literally, trust these people with my life. I have met thousands of people, talked with them, shared stories - they are all my brothers and sisters. They all love their country, enough to die for it if necessary. They are all good, hard-working, respectful individuals who want only to be free. They are friendly, kind and helpful. They don't even litter the sites where the rallies are held - the venues are, literally, cleaner when the rallies are over than when they began.

These are people who love God, their families and their fellow man. Most would willingly give you the shirt off their back if you were in need, but would fight mightily to keep you from stealing it. Most of all, they believe, with every fiber of their beings, in the sanctity of the United States Constitution as the supreme and unbreakable law of the land. The spirit of the Founding Fathers lives on in each and every one of these wonderful people.

On Friday night, John went out to the car to bring in our signs. On the way through the lobby, he met several fellow protestors, at least some of them from Missouri. They were fast friends, talking about the signs, the problems with government, etc. John was all smiles and so excited to share the story when he came back to the room.

On Saturday, as we walked to the Metro station, we met a few fellow protesters and immediately struck up a conversation. There was no tension - it was like old home week. There were so many of us from out of town, unfamiliar with the ticket purchasing process, that the lines were long. Rather than growing impatient, however, those waiting their turn tried to help others who were having problems. Waiting for the train, which was delayed by construction, our number grew, and we had a number of conversations with different groups of people - all smiling and as excited as we were. When the train finally came, we hurried on board, quickly filling all the seats. Those standing in the aisles were chatting with others seated near them - conversations grew as more and more chimed in. After just a few minutes and another train stop, the train was full to the point of overflowing and we began to notice that it was growing very warm in the car. There was no air conditioning on, and with all the bodies, it was only a matter of minutes before the windows of the trains were completely fogged over, with condensation dripping down them. The ride took almost 40 minutes, with another person or two somehow managing to board at each stop. It began to feel like we were out of oxygen - it was so hot and humid in the car that it was difficult to breathe. But I did not hear one complaint. There were a few jokes - Obama ordered the AC turned off to make it harder on us, for example. But no complaints...not a single one. Just laughter and excitement that grew more intense with each passing stop.

When we finally arrived at Federal Triangle, I wiped off the window enough to peek out. The platform was jammed with people - it looked so full that I could not imagine that we would all be able to get off the train. But the crowd that was already there crushed a little more tightly together, making room for us. There was no pushing or shoving, no one worried about who got in front of whom - indeed, the younger people were stopping and gesturing for older people to go in front of them. One person fell at the top of the stairs and four others immediately bent down to help him up, making sure he was ok. There were raucous chants of USA! USA! and even a chorus of God Bless America. We made our way to the street.

When I walked into the sunshine and got my first look at Pennsylvania Avenue, my eyes filled with tears. It was the most massive crowd I had ever seen, anywhere, in my life. In every direction, as far as the eye could see, were seas of people, waving flags, carrying signs, chanting, talking, laughing. The march was not supposed to start for over an hour - we were supposed to be gathering a block to the east - but the crowd had long since overflowed the space allocated. It was an unstoppable force of nature - a melding of kindred souls into one enormous, cohesive mass of humanity. Never, at any point during the day, not one single time, did I personally see or hear anyone express anger or frustration with any of their fellow marchers. Whoever happened to be next to you at any moment was your newest best friend. Every eye you caught smiled.

As we moved en masse toward the Capitol, we talked with dozens of people, comparing notes on where we were from, how long it had taken to get there, why it was so important to us. Every person knew, with complete accuracy, the stories about the stimulus, TARP, ACORN, Obama's czars - they were well-informed on all the offenses of government since well before the beginning of Obama's term. And they were determined to get the message across to Congress and the world - NO MORE!

There were babies and children, teens and seniors. Every size, shape and color of person imaginable. People with walkers and in wheelchairs, even a few on crutches. There were people who could not walk far enough to go to the Capitol, but had travelled to get there, to sit on a bench on the sidewalk to cheer the rest of us on. It felt like the biggest, most wonderful family in history.

Throughout the rally, even during the unpleasant times, like waiting 30 minutes in line to use one of the porta potties (Freedom Works expected, at most, 100,000 people, and ordered accordingly), not one cross word. There were so many people that it was impossible not to bump into each other, but each bump was followed by, "Oh, excuse me! I'm so sorry!" "No problem!"

The tears came often on Saturday - tears of pride, tears of happiness, tears of overwhelming emotion as I absorbed the fact that I was with a million or more people who shared my love of country and were as determined as I not to let her go astray. Then I thought of all of those at home, who had been cheering me on and saying how much they wished they could go - there must have been at least 20 people that I was representing. The thought that most of those in attendance probably had similar support groups was almost more than I could absorb - there are tens of millions of us in this country! The realization brought a peace I have not felt for a very long time - with that many good people to defend her, America cannot fail. My country, our country, will come through this, and will emerge stronger than she has been in my lifetime. And that is a very good feeling indeed.

Thank you to all of my fellow marchers, those who could come to D.C. and those who could not. You have given me hope.