It was the day after I had a cast put on
my hand due to a surgical repair, and I was a bit grouchy. However, I had already committed, by RSVP and
in my mind and heart, to participate in the Denver Tax March on April 15, 2017. Because I couldn’t drive, my wife took us
over to the train stop. We carried with
us a few bottles of water, my homemade sign on a discarded tattered piece of
cardboard, and a bag of clothing and shoes for donation.
When we got to the train platform, I was
a bit surprised to see that even in my very far right district, there were
numerous people waiting with their own signs.
I was a bit relieved that now it wasn’t likely that we would be mauled
on the trip downtown. There were plenty
of friendly faces and conversations. I
took special notice of the age groups of the participants, on which I will
comment later. As ours was the first stop, more and more people with signs
boarded the train, until it was completely full.
After the 25 minute train ride, we all
departed at a downtown stop and began the walk to the Civic Center under
gorgeous Denver blue skies. Chimes
struck the appointed hour of ten just as we were arriving. Those who arrived early filled all the seats
of the Greek Theater, so after placing our donation at the drop-off point, we
eventually ended up immediately in front of the speakers’ stage. I regarded all the signs being held – they were
all homemade – these were certainly not paid professional protestors. Most of the signs were fairly straightforward
like mine, which read, “Show Us Your Taxes.”
Just a few of the signs were profane, and some were quite notable and original. I especially liked the sign that read, “The Idea
That Anyone Can Grow Up To Be President Has Gone A Little Too Far.” A couple more signs will be noted below.
As more people filtered in (eventually
numbering several thousand), we heard from a number of speakers, including the
local march organizer, a Congressman and local political figures. Two state representatives provided
information on the pending legislation to require all presidential candidates
to disclose their tax returns in order to appear on the Colorado ballot. Of particular note was the special young man
who is serving his third term as student body president of his public school –
he pointed out that he has served two terms more than President Trump will. He was rousing and inspirational. Let’s hope the future of this country will
rest in the hands of those inspirational young people like him.
At the conclusion of the speakers, the
march began behind a sign that read, “Follow the Money.” Because we had been up front, we were towards
the end of the marching column, and it took quite a while for us to exit Civic
Center Park. We would periodically call
out our chants as we marched, such as, “This is what democracy looks like.” We had a permit, so we proceeded down the
middle of downtown streets for about a mile and a half. I saw that the police were very calm and at
quite a distance from us. I also observed
that there were no visible counter protests.
There were no confrontations, whatsoever. I found out later that a lady had fallen from
the top of the theater wall but only sustained minor injuries.
We returned to the park just as the
chimes signaled one o’clock. There was a
palpable hesitancy among many to leave, but we had achieved what we had set out
to do. As we walked back to the train, most
everyone along the route was still carrying a sign. The return train journey was even more crowded
than the original trip.
And now some thoughts. I mentioned
earlier that I was quite interested in the ages of the participants. It seemed to me, both on the bus and at the
rally and march, that there was an overabundance of baby boomers – people like
me with grey beards or a little hitch in their gait or a bit of exhaustion
peeking through. A noticeable exception
was the wonderful elderly lady whose sign read, “You made me an activist at age
90. Thanks, Donald.” She was the hit of the crowd. But what about those of us of slightly less
advanced years. We lived through Viet
Nam, civil rights struggles, Watergate.
Were we reconstructed activists?
I suspect that some of us were.
But I also believe that many were just like me – I had never before marched
for or against anything in my life. What
was different? I certainly possessed
strong opinions during those turbulent days, so why didn’t I march then? I believe the reason I and others held back
was because of a certain amount of innate timidity – a don’t rock the boat
mentality.
Now, I can no longer afford to be
timid. I have many more years behind
than ahead of me, but I also have children and grandchildren who will inherit
the United States of America. I could
not in all good conscience live out my days without making whatever meager
attempts I can to help correct the mess in which this country now flounders. I want my legacy to my descendants to be a
philosophy of helping others as much as we help ourselves, to make certain that
everyone has clothing, a meal, shelter and health care. I want them to be accepting of all races,
genders, religions and any other issues which could divide us. I hope they have leaders who are wise,
experienced, caring, honest and accountable to their followers. I yearn to Make
America’s Heart Great Again.
The President has ridiculed us, saying we
were paid protestors. Mr. President, we
were paid in patriotic pride. We marched
to see who you are being paid by!
The last sign I saw as we left the march
symbolizes it all. In the words of Dr.
Martin Luther King: “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about
things that matter.”
