Women's March in New Bern

This morning I awoke early and ran three miles in thick fog, north on Highway 58 toward Fort Macon and then out through the picnic area to the beach at low tide.  This is the only beach I have been able to run on, so wide and flat and perfect a surface, the calm surf breaking just a few feet to one side and nothing near me but soaring gulls, two shell-gatherers, and a cyclist on a mountain bike taking advantage of the hard-packed sand.  I had glanced at my watch to measure the distance, which we had previously estimated to be one mile, and I was glad I did because the fog was so thick that I could literally see nothing beyond the sand dunes.  I wondered how I would be able to find the narrow little path and the walkway to the condos.  Had I run too far?  Then I made out faintly that familiar line of colorful houses at Sea Dreams, closest of all the houses to the beach, and I knew I had not gone too far; and a mile had gone by on my Garmin I thought I could see that little opening between the dunes that marked the walkway.  Trudging up through the soft sand on the upper beach I gradually saw the massive shape of the condo faintly in the fog, clearer and clearer the nearer I came.

This was the day we had planned to drive to New Bern to join with other concerned citizens around the country and around the world in peaceful resistance to the Trump Inauguration.  We got an early start, not knowing what do expect.  The event was called a Women's March and was a "sister" march to others being held around the country- hundreds of thousands in Washington and L.A. and Chicago and Asheville - but men were invited too (and I found that about a third in attendance were men).  A demonstration in Washington the night before the Inauguration had turned violent, and we had no intention of being a part of anything like that - the word "peaceably" is prominent in the First Amendment:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.

At the same time, I have read, before and after the event, a great many posts on Facebook and elsewhere, some of them from friends and relatives, who have viewed peaceful resistance as somehow unpatriotic.  I cannot disagree more strongly with this idea.  From the Civil Rights movement in the 60s (which I was too young to take part in) to demonstrations against the Vietnam War (which I did take part in nearly 50 years ago), public policy has often been shaped by masses of concerned people simply gathering together to say "No."  I think the last time I exercised this basic constitutional right was during the first Iraq War, when I joined other pastors in Highlands to walk from place to place in Town and to simply pray.   

I feel that this is a similar profound moment in our history when good people must stand up and speak out against this President and all that he represents - the very worst representation of our nation, in my opinion - and the regressive policies he has already started to implement.  Martha, too, has become increasingly dismayed at all of the lies and distortions, the bigotry and baseness of this campaign and its eventual"winner," the treatment of women.  I know the election is over, but the fight for human rights and for the progress of the last 50 years, which many of my generation have taken for granted, will never be over.  Good people standing up and speaking out.

We were relieved to see so many men, women, and children already gathering at the gazebo at Union Point Park.  

It was a peaceful and uplifting time; these were people who I felt I knew, intelligent and informed citizens, men and women of all ages and races joining together.  So many inspirational signs, so many inspirational conversations with others who were as concerned as we are.

Helen Robinson, long-time New Bern Democratic Party mainstay who pulled this event together at the last moment, spoke from her heart about her young granddaughter and grandson and their future.  Marshall Williams, former head of the local NAACP and President of the Christian Community Network, gave a rousing speech.  If he is not also a Preacher he has missed his calling!

And then we all lined up, two by two, instructed to stay on the sidewalks and follow the traffic laws, which we did.  There was no violence; on the contrary, a great feeling of peace and unity and courtesy and dignity prevailed, and occasionally Helen or one of her friends would lead a chant:

Why are we here today?

We are stronger together.

Why are we here?

We need one another.

Why are we here?

We are going to find out voice.

Why are we here?

We are going to join our hands and hearts,.

Why are we here?

We are going to work for justice.

Why are we here?

We are gong to walk together.

And walk we did, perhaps 700 of us (according to the news), past the beautiful old historic homes of New Bern on our way to a crowded little parking lot behind the Courthouse.

As we circled back around the block, I was touched to see two small groups of stragglers, each of them helping an elderly man and an elderly woman, well into their 80s or older, using a rollator; they walked with difficulty but I had the feeling that they had marched on streets like this before in their long lives.  A young police woman was stopping traffic at an intersection to grateful thank-yous.  There was so much love and determination here!  We were glad that we had come and been a part of such a positive beginning to what appears to be a long struggle ahead.

The march ended, and we spent the rest of the day walking through the beautiful street-scapes of New Bern.  From time to time, we would pass others who had marched with us earlier in the day (most were wearing pink hearts or bracelets).  

The drive from New Bern to Atlantic Beach passes through Havelock and Cherry Point, a depressing stretch of road filled with pawn shops, tattoo parlors, and hopeless poverty - the very part of America that has been left behind and somehow has come to believe that this arrogant, narcissistic billionaire, descending from gold-plated Trump Tower to board Trump Jet and perhaps visit the White House from time to time, actually cares about their lives.  He should walk down this road.  

And here is a poignant little photo I took on the way back home - a church and a pawn shop sharing common ground.