BLACK (Saturday Nov. 15, 1969) Page 5 Continuing...

The March was scheduled for 11:00 A.M. The telephone rang at 8:15 A.M. waking Pat and me up. The call was for my friend Ralph who had come in last night from New York with his girlfriend and had spent the night at our apartment. It was one of his friends who was a marshal in the parade today. He informed us that unless we left for the parade assembling grounds at 4th and the Mall by 9:30 A.M. we would not be able to march. Bah! Impossible. With all the people coming into the city, the parade would go on for hours. I convinced Ralph and we went back to sleep for another hour. At 10:15 Bob came over with his date. We left the apartment and headed for our friend Jerry and his wife’s so we could all go down to the assembly grounds together. No sooner had we left our apartment, when I met a black friend who had gone to graduate school with me. Flora asked if she could join us. “Sure, why not”, I said.

A group of 2 girls and a guy walked just behind Flora. They were unfamiliar with Washington and asked if they could come along with us too. Why not? So our group of 10 trooped the door and occupied every chair, the couch and even the bed. We left their apartment – now a pack of 12 – at 10:45 in a gay and festive mood. Everywhere we looked we saw people being pulled like magnets toward the direction of the parade grounds. The streets were nearly empty without cars, and the people in the streets and on the sidewalks gave a carnival atmosphere to the city. The effect of seeing so many people with the same intent produced an exhilarating sensation. I involuntarily shivered from the thought. Yet although we all felt buoyed and excited, our thoughts and the meaning of the march were still very serious.

We caught a bus off DuPont Circle where we picked up some more friends who were waiting at the bus stop. The bus was jammed with young people. I precariously stood half-twisted around the back of the driver’s seat. At 17th and I St. a woman no younger than 60 wearing peace buttons like military decorations banged on the door to open. The driver ignored the insistent pounding, as he waited for the light to change. The passengers who saw her in full regalia began to chant, “Let her on, let her on,” and finally prevailed upon him. We all breathed deeply, and move an inch closer. Our general slipped on; the doors closed, vicing her in with the rest of the marchers. They cheered, and the bus started on again. The bus went down G St. heading for 7th St. and already we could see that the March had begun. Outside the bus more and more people filed toward the Pennsylvania Ave. parade route. At 7th and G, the bus disgorged itself leaving the bus driver alone. We walked down 7th to Pennsylvania which was completely filled with people. Flags, posters and signs waved and bobbed in the human sea. We turned down Pennsylvania going in the opposite direction of the marchers to 4th Street to try somehow to get in line for the march. At 5th, Pennsylvania was so full that we could no longer even go along the sidewalk. The group of us detoured up 5th one block north of Pennsylvania and then returned down 4th and crossed Pennsylvania.


To the right of us we could see where the marchers entered Pennsylvania Ave via the narrow conduit of Madison St. In front, back and to the sides all we could see were potential marchers trying helplessly to discover where the end of the line was to enter and begin to march. We stopped momentarily to smile at 2 girls putting flowers in the lapel of a cop who was standing at attention and trying to maintain a stern face.

My feet ached unceasingly from the numbing 3 ½ mile march yesterday. I was getting short tempered because of our aimless meandering at the assembly grounds where we could not find where to being. Already we had lost most of our friends; only Ralph, Bob and their dates remained. We grabbed a hold of each other’s arms trying to prevent the crowd from separating us. We finally came up to Madison Street where all marchers were filing into Pennsylvania only to be met by rope and marshals who cordoned off the street. I recognized one of the marshals, another graduate friend of mine, and asked him where the hell the line began. He said there were two lines – one that filtered into Madison and the other into the Mall St which ran in front of the National Gallery of Art. In both cases the lines were backed up three blocks very near the Capitol. We looked over the Mall Street which was teaming its entire width with people. The situation looked impossible and I understood why Ralph’s friend had advised us to leave at 9:30.

We walked over to the Mall St and as far as we could see, it was filled with people. Marshalls stood here too cordoning off the street from those seeking entrance. Unlike Madison St. however, no ropes separated the marchers from the potential marchers. Three people walked past one of the marshals and pushed their ways into the line just squeezing into the street beyond the curb. The marshal yelled at them and reprimanded them.

“Man, these people have been standing for a long time waiting their turn, I’m sorry but you will have to go to the end of the line.” His back was turned to us. Where we were standing a breath of space opened up and we faded into the street. We looked around rather bored as if we had been waiting for several hours.

Well, at last we were in and we would march. I felt a little bit guilty, but since there were so many more people than the New Mobe had predicted, the assembly procedure was in complete chaos. No one knew where the lines really started, so I could rationalize somewhat my immoral behavior. My feet were hurting unmercifully and I wanted to march, so all things considered, Well…..

Our street alternated with the Madison Street marchers entering into Pennsylvania. Our line began moving toward the convergence of the two streams of marchers. We were almost at the juncture when our line was halted and Madison St. started again. Then an announcement over the improvised P.A. system:

“We are sorry to inform you that not all of you present today will be able to march along the Pennsylvania Ave parade route. The permit expires at 1:00 P.M.” A huge groan emanated from the crowd. “We suggest that those who will not march down Pennsylvania can alternatively march down the Mall directly to the Washington Monument, the final destination of the March.” The announcement was repeated. Ralph glanced at me with a vexed I told you so look. Our line moved on again, some marchers heeding the announcement going straight ahead. We were undecided as we entered the junction of the two streets. Suddenly the crowd in our street heaved to the right and carried us along with its momentum. Come what come may – Mr. Mitchell – this crowd was here to stay. We came to participate and even though it was already 12:30 we were going to stay on the main route – Pennsylvania Avenue.

The aperture via Madison Street into Pennsylvania was a narrow one block long. Although we were only inching along, the crush of people made it nearly impossible for me to even keep hold of Pat. Our group was severed and swallowed by the crowd only to be reunited when the narrows finally emptied into Pennsylvania Ave. only half of Pennsylvania Ave was permitted for the March and it was totally packed. However, the crowd of marchers moved slowly but steadily. One wave of humanity extended from the Mall to the Monument at a distance of over two miles, stuffed within the confines of half of Pennsylvania Ave which is 3 wide traffic lanes, shivering, pulsating in the cold crisp cloudless winter like day. Fantastic.