The logistics to make it happen on my own seemed insurmountable. I put out an open request for a road trip partner on Facebook hoping that someone may be up for an adventure. Ultimately I had a conversation with one acquaintance who expressed some possible interest, but ultimately there were no takers. As time passed and the date of the event loomed ever closer, I became resigned to not going. It just didn't seem possible.
Then, two weeks before the rally, Glenn posted a Restoring Honor update on Facebook with a link to a map of places that still had room on their buses. Much to my surprise there was a bus only half an hour away from my home. Immediately, I sent an email to the listed contact As I waited for a reply I was most concerned that the trip would not work for e scheduling wise. I needed to find a way to depart on Friday and return on Sunday. But who would plan that kind of a whirlwind excursion? In a few short minutes I had learned that the details of the trip were exactly as I needed them to be, but she had already filled three buses and I could only be put on a waiting list for a fourth bus if I provided my contact information. However, she wouldn't book the bus until she had 55 confirmed attendees. Days seemed to drag as I awaited word and then finally I received an email that I was on my way to Washington DC! You would have thought I had won the lottery rather than a seat on a bus.
My excitement at being able to really be on the Mall at Washington DC grew exponentially. I started telling everyone who would listen all about the rally and that I was going to be there. My conservative friends were excited for me and my liberal friends were at least cordial. A lot of people just didn't know it was happening and heard about it for the first time from me. Unsurprisingly, the event was not being covered by mainstream liberal media outlets. I was happy to be the informant.
It was a bit odd, but not uncomfortable getting on an excursion bus with complete strangers. But, I struck up conversations here and there. Most of my bus-mates were senior citizens but there were a few younger people and even a few children in the group. Everyone seemed to pretty much keep to the folks they knew, however conversations about politics did arise and it was nice to hear agreement rather than debate for a change. The ride itself was long and uncomfortable and for the most part, there were only sporadic complaints. I was fortunate because one person who was supposed to be on our bus made a mistake and wound up on a different one, so I had two seats for the 19 hour ride which included three other pick-up stops in various suburbs prior to really being on our way.
I spent my time reading, which is challenging while riding on a bus. What with all the vibrations, extraneous conversations and overhead music or movie, concentration took effort. I had brought A Patriot's History of the United States with me. It is a 900 page book of which I got through the first 60 pages or so in small increments. Concentration became easier once I remembered that I had brought earplugs for when I was ready to sleep. They worked great! And when it was time to sleep, all I needed to do was put down the book and don my nightshade.
Other than the cramped quarters, the only other thing that bothered me about the trip was that each time we stopped, several people blatantly ignored the time constraints that were communicated before we disembarked. It seemed selfish and inconsiderate that adults would behave this way. Call me crazy, but it also seemed a little hypocritical since we were heading to a rally lauding the virtue of honor. Perhaps my expectations are too high.
At around 6AM EDT, we arrived at RFK stadium in Washington DC. We were among some of the first buses there. Four other ladies joined me as we walked to the Metrorail subway stop just a block away. Since they labeled me the leader, I had to tuck in the fact that the subway thing was the scariest part for me. The rushing and closing doors has been anxiety producing since my first subway experience in NYC when I was a little girl. My concern was unwarranted because, though the crowd was thick and packing in like sardines, everyone was calm, polite and helpful to each other. My ladies Rose Mary, Charmaine, Pat, Arlene and I were lucky enough to get on the very first train of the morning. We were all on the same car of the train and it was easy to regroup when we got off at the Smithsonian stop a few minutes later.
When we came up out of the darkness of the underground rail station, it was brightly overcast. The morning sun had not yet burned off the haze of the earth's slumber. It took only a few seconds to scan the sky and find the world's largest phallic symbol, fondly known as the Washington Monument and begin walking towards it. As we moved down Independence Avenue between large neo-Roman buildings marked, Department of Agriculture, we could feel the ever growing buzz of energy from the throngs. After just a few blocks, we were beyond the government buildings and approaching the famous obelisk in earnest. Walking under the banner of welcome just east of the monument's mound marked my sense of arrival... of having made it. We moved on, walking around and over the mound and then we could see it. Hundreds... thousands of people of all ages, shapes, sizes, colors, and socioeconomic backgrounds with backpacks, collapsible lawn chairs, and flags converging from North, East, South and West onto the grounds around the reflecting pool between the Washington Monument and Lincoln Memorial. The crowd became increasingly dense as we made our way closer to Lincoln. People were happy, calm and talkative. Though strangers, we were also friends. This was community as it should be. This was unity; real, loving and tangible.
... to be continued.
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