WE MARCHED.

I knew why we were going.  To paraphrase Lawrence O’Donnell, whom I had watched the evening before:  The NRA has made it possible for American mass murderers to be the best equipped in the world.

This wasn’t our first rodeo, so to speak, since we had joined a march and rally last year, but I still wasn’t certain how many would be joining us.  When we reached the Park N Ride to take the light rail train to downtown Denver, I immediately knew that this was different.  We were the first stop on a train ride that is normally sparsely populated on a Saturday afternoon, but there were lines waiting to purchase tickets.  Mind you, this was in the middle of an affluent, highly conservative area.  I might have guessed there was another event happening downtown, except that everyone was carrying signs.  We purchased our tickets in the nick of time and hurried to the train that was just arriving. It had to deviate off schedule to allow the massive boarding, and by the time it departed, there was no sitting or standing room left with many still outside waiting for the next train.

We sat across from a nurse and like everyone else on the train struck up a conversation.  Her family were gun owners, but this was different.  Her middle schooler and high school student were with her and told us of their active shooter drills.  Her daughter would be voting in the next election.  Yes, we were on the right track.

At the Convention Center stop, the train disgorged and we began the several block walk to Civic Center Park where the rally was to be held.  Because the students had gathered first, we were nowhere near the speaker platform, but that was the purposeful intent.  I took note of some of my favorite signs:  “Respect existence or expect resistance,” “Our leaders are acting like children, so the children must act like leaders,” “School shooters are not a regulated militia,” “When your peers are being murdered, you become an adult by default,” “Read books, not obituaries,” “Actually, guns do kill people,” “I signed up to be a teacher, not a first responder,” “I suggest we put a teacher in every gun store,” “I should be writing my college essay, not my obituary,” “Betsy DeVos is the only thing that should be fired inside a school,” “The children almost broken by the world will become the adults most likely to change it,” and on the back of a dog, “NRA, why did you kill my best friend?”  Our signs must have struck a note, because they were photographed dozens of times – “Grandparents Marching to Save Lives,” and “Grandparents Can Be Tigers If the Cubs are Threatened.”  There were many young people there, but quite a few oldies but goodies like ourselves.  There also seemed to be numerous teachers present, with a very large contingent of Montessori staff.

The speakers began.  I will not go into detail because the media will have covered them well, but they were both survivors of massacres and relatives of victims.  During the speeches, which lasted close to two hours, a plane flew overhead, trailing a banner which criticized one of our Senators who has taken almost $4 million from the NRA.  At one point, it was announced that we had completely filled Civic Center Park.  We cheered.  We knew that what began as an idea and turned into a rally had now become a movement.

Then the march began.  The most interesting thing to me is that it seemed that virtually everyone in downtown Denver was part of this.  People were even leaning out of parking structures.  I had wondered beforehand if there might be any counter demonstrations, but not a single one was visible.  We marched for almost an hour and returned to the park, where it was almost as if those present were somewhat reluctant to end this statement of principle.  We walked back to the train stop, and apparently the crowds had disrupted the schedule so that we waited for a very long time for our train to arrive.  If we thought the trip down was crowded, this one was bulging at the seams.  We had to stand at a door well and watched as at each stop, people were disappointed that no more could get on.

Those were the mechanics of yesterday but now I will add my thoughts.  You must remember that these demonstrations were planned, organized and executed by young people.  There are those who say that teenagers couldn’t have done this.  I beg to differ.  Yes, the students from Stoneman Douglas are amazing.  But the over 800 worldwide marches were conceived and executed by other students, equally competent, articulate and committed.  Perhaps those who doubt these students’ abilities were exceptionally underperforming teenagers.  I remember being 17 years old and in charge of arranging housing and transportation to hundreds of students coming into Denver for a convention.  Our teenagers are our future.  As I watched some national coverage last evening, I was struck by something one of the interviewers said.  When he asked a volunteer who was stationed in Washington, D.C. to register new voters (there were many of those in Denver, as well) if he had had a successful day, the volunteer replied that he hadn’t signed up the numbers he had expected, because so many he asked responded that they had already registered.  The tide is turning.

To end, there are a lot of adjectives and adverbs that were engendered yesterday:  admiration, excitement, involvement, inspirational, hopeful, determined, aware, proud, powerful, passionate, grief, commitment, and yes, exhaustion.

On the short drive home from the train stop, I said these words, “I hope we did some good.”  I think maybe we did.