BLACK (Saturday Nov. 15, 1969) Page 6 Continuing...

All along the parade route long haired youth led the crowd in assorted cheers. On the sidelines in front of the Archives a cheering section of 5 guys and three girls yelled:
“What do you want?”

“Peace”, roared the crowd in deafening solidarity.

“When do you want it?”

“Now” roared the crowd.

“What?” “Peace!” “When?” “Now” What-Peace-When-Now-What-Peace-When-Now.

We marched on. A group of marchers ahead of us began another refrain:

Stanza I

“One, two, three, four Tricky Dickey, End the War”

Stanza II

“One, two, three, four Tricky Dickey, End the War” Fuck the pigs, fuck the war.”

Then another group began singing down around 9th St and Pennsylvania a Tricky Dickey/Spiro Agnew to the tune of Mickey Mouse/Donald Duck... This of course, was quite appropriate since Mickey Mouse has been donning a Spiro Agnew watch. Off to the left in front of a sign kept bobbing up and down. I had a hard time seeing at first but I finally made it out:

It tersely stated: “Fighting the war is like fucking a virgin.”

The crowd was serious but having a good time too. They had a good sense of humor and a good disposition. An older couple marched in front of us. On his American Legion cap he had a button which said: American Vets for Peach in Vietnam. As we passed the Justice Department and FBI agent was rapid firing his camera, taking pictures of the protesters. The marchers countered and took pictures of him for their own files. They laughed and flashed the V sign at him.

Although feeling somewhat uncomfortable with this mass of people, I simultaneously felt at one with the hundreds of thousands of marchers protesting peacefully their dissatisfaction with the war and with the same policies based on the same mistaken premises three former presidents had followed, and now Mr. Nixon was following too. Sure, he talked about Vietnamization of the war but that really begged the issue. As long as the U.S. maintained that the North was the aggressive, guilty and intransigent group in Vietnam, no solution would ever be reached. And thus the raison d’être of the March protesting all the ugly consequences that followed from this terrible war-especially the toll in men’s lives. Pat and I and Ralph and Bob and Steve and all the Oberlin guys yesterday and all the others who were gathered here today felt a sense of camaraderie with this multitude, and a sense of patriotism and pride.

At 14th and Penn. According to the negotiated parade route with the Justice Department, the crowd turned south and headed up 14th to Constitution and the Washington Monument group. We arrived at 1:30 with thousands upon thousands of people strolling, sitting, looking and listening, beholding this magnificent spectacle. Politicians, performers, clergy and artists addressed this massive crowd, the largest to ever assemble in Washington, D.C. They included Sen. Goodell, Sen. McCarthy and Sen. McGovern, Pete Seeger, David Dillinger and many others.

We walked around the edges of the quilt of humanity centered at the base of the Monument and extending outward in all directions. A large blanket walked by with six legs propelling it toward the center of the crowd. Off to the side of the crowd another blanket sprawled on the ground shivering with at least 5 people trying to steal some of its warmth. My hands were numb, my feet aching. The sight of the others as cold as myself reinforced my desire to go home. We glanced back one more time, and then headed up Constitution toward 17th. Long irregular lines of people queued up before 3 temporary buildings. First Aid Stations? Food concessions? Buttons and posters? Whatever they were, the marchers stood resolutely and patiently. At the front of the lines, anxious faces started at closed doors. Then the door opened and out walked the marcher relieved and smiling again. We walked up 18th St. toward home. Although many people were leaving, even more were still coming; not only by the parade route, but down 18th St. to Constitution. We smiled and even managed a few V-signs to encourage the people on.

We tuned in to the 7:00 o’clock news and Walter Cronkite. Conservative police estimates put the crowd at 250,000, but most commentators agreed that at least 500,000 people had gathered to protest the Vietnamese war. The New Mobe itself boasted that more than ¾ of a million people participated in today’s March. Yet this most magnificent of spectacles perfect for television media did not have any live coverage. No, Mr. Nixon had unleashed his vice-President on the press last Wednesday and so the television stations instead of fulfilling their right as well as their obligation to report a major event like the March acquiesced to Mr. Agnew’s subtle censorship.

Two Negroes were interviewed by one of the CBS reports who were present at the March. Washington, D.C. has the largest percentage of blacks living in any major American city – over 70% which makes the observation even more astounding. However, earlier in the week, BUF—the Black United Front issued at statement urging the blacks in Washington not to participate in the March.
“We will not be implicated in the imperialistic white man’s plot of destroying our black brothers. Vietnam is a white man’s war against another enslaved people. If the whites protest their own involvement in the Vietnamese war, fine. We will not participate, Brothers, in the white man’s affairs and we urge you to abstain.

Pat and I had noticed the dearth of black people in the crowd. Besides Flora, we must have seen only about a dozen or so blacks. The reporter asked the black man why he marched: “This war is not just the white man’s war but it is the black man’s ware too. In fact, more Negroes are dying in Vietnam than whites. That makes it our war too. We want to stop the killing and bring our boys home too. And what’s why I’m marching here today.”

We turned off the news and went to bed. Sunday afternoon we drove around the city to see the aftermath of the March. The Washington Monument was as lonely as ever with only the American flags fluttering in the breeze. The only evidence of the March was the white flecks of papers dotting the grounds and the remaining portable toilets. We felt empty inside. We drove past L’Enfant Plaza, on the expressway. Coming back toward the White House two motorcycle policemen zoomed past us followed by the Presidential limousine. The Washington Redskins had played today and our President was returning from the game.