An elderly woman, with a sign on her back "No Blood For Oil" asked a heavy-set policeman if she could get to the rally. She had been stuck on third avenue for about two hours and it was getting cold. Her feet were hurting. The police officer, arms folded, had few words for her. "Haven't you already made your point?" The comradarie of frustrated people on Third Av. was uplifting. Despite deep cold, claustrophobia and the on-going anger at being kept away from the rally, people were cheery, shouting, drumming and holding their children up above their heads. (That is, before the arrests and mace began.) Let the city, the judges and the cops prevent "marching." "Marching" is what we were doing. We were in the middle of the steets, with huge cloth peace dove-puppets, waves of signs, and human beings of all colors, sizes, ages and beliefs. "What Would Jesus Bomb?" was one sign. "Babies for Peace" was another. Popped into a Duane Reade along the way. There was almost a run on the disposable cameras. People were buying soda and chips, rubbing their hands to get warm and going right back out into the crowd. A SEIU van was handing out purple hats to keep people warm. 1199 workers were smiling, throwing hats out into the crowd. The heads on third were all purple and snug. The cops stood by like an ugly grumbling fence, with boredom and disdain rampant on some of their faces. Asking one "Where can I go to get to the rally?" on 56th street, we were told 77th street. 21 more blocks. This was before the pepper sprays, beatings, arrests. It was a peaceful beautiful day. There were families, elderly, babies.... how can such a beautiful display of humanity, with purple hats, warmed hands, smiling faces turn so ugly? We all know the answer. But I'd like people to know of a third avenue that was not violent, but affirming.
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