Reflections on a “Political Rally”

Comment by DianneinVA
2008-04-15 17:29:42

Reflections on a “Political Rally” (my first)

I am not the most expressive person. I can’t type well, and often get thinking faster than my fingers move.
However, I want to share a few personal impressions from the “Freedom Rally” in Washington DC on April 15th, 2008.

First: the DC weather was perfect. It was a crisp, beautiful day, without wind or clouds; without excessive heat or cold. Second” the rally was staged on the “lawn” of the US Capitol. I could not help but notice with some irony, the guards on the steps. When I first visited the National Mall, years ago, that people - “we the people” could climb those steps and look at our glorious National Capitol Mall. That is no longer possible. “We the people”, whether we be citizens, tourists, visitors…or just tired, can no longer use the steps. We, “we the people” are now a risk to national security, and so the steps are off limits.

Dr. Paul and Carol (Mrs. Paul) arrived early. I mention that, because they did not come late to keep the crowd. They apparently just walked to the rally from his congressional office. Dr. Paul spoke with simplicity and eloquence. It was not an election speech “VOTE FOR ME, VOTE FOR ME!” He spoke with the quiet, nonconfrontational voice of an American that seemed to say “thank you, I want to serve America.” There were no promises: we know his record, and it speaks more than scripted words on a campaign stop.
There were no sound-bites about the other candidates. There was a love of America and an expression of thanks for his privilege to live in this country, thanks for his wife, and thanks for the people….”we the people.” And then he was done. He introduced Carol, and the crowd shouted out her name.

They walked away from the rally, taking time to shake hands, to sign autographs, to have pictures taken. And the crowd allowed his slow departure, with respect and admiration. There was no pushing, no urgency…no rock star status: just a few soft shouts of “thank you Dr. Paul” , “God Bless you Dr. Paul”. I wanted to shake his hand, too, but he was being so gracious with everyone. I will send his office a thank you note: not an email, instead. Then, he walked away without fear, or fanfare. There was no media coverage: I believe he went back to work, as that would be the right thing to do.

I spoke to many people. One woman, whom I had met recently in Warrenton, Virginia, showed me that he had signed his name on a Ron Paul sign she had brought. She was going to have it framed. A little girl showed me where he had signed his name the shoulder of her T-shirt. I bet that shirt will never be washed. Someone asked me if I was a “granny warrior”, I said no, but I am a grandma who likes Ron Paul. Another woman I had met only once went out of her way to say “hello”. She remembered my face- Ron Paul people are like that.

I spoke to a young man who was sitting on the grass next to a baby stroller. I pointed to the “purple heart” on his cap and mouthed “for real?” He said yes. We talked. He had returned from Iraq, and showed my where the bullet had entered and left his arm. He had been sent to Walter Reed for treatment, and thought he would be returning to Iraq soon. He introduced me to his wife his children and his friends. They were Americans, trying to support America I hugged him, and thanked him. Then I hugged his wife and thanked her, too.

I spoke to a man wearing an “AF Veteran” hat, and told him I had retired from the Air Force in 1994, before this war. At that point, four military jets flew overhead, and someone joked that they hoped we were not going to be strafed. I explained that that was the “missing man” formation, and that the flight was actually honoring a funeral at Arlington Cemetery. It happens a lot in DC.

I spoke to three soldiers in uniform from Ft Mead. Their unit commander had allowed them to come and photograph the rally. I had watched them in the crowd, as many people sought them out to talk with them and shake their hands. Ron Paul people love the military. I hugged one of them, and thanked them for being in his service. I told them , too, that I was retired from the military and had been operated on at the Ft. Mead clinic, and that my sister had been stationed there when she was a soldier, long before the war.

My sister‘s husband had served several tours in Vietnam. He died from Agent Orange complications. For 20 years, she has never talked politics. She is a Ron Paul supporter.

I spoke to people from Connecticut, from Pennsylvania, from Florida, from Texas, from Iowa, from Ohio, from New York, …I asked all of them if they had talked to anyone from South Dakota- my home state. There were supposed to be 20 people who were driving out from SD to attend the rally, and I was having no luck finding any of them.

It’s a long drive from South Dakota to Washington DC. There were “mirror” events held in Sioux Falls and Pierre for those who could not make the trip. As an explanation, South Dakota does not hold its primary until June 4th. This is important because 10 states have not yet held a primary, a caucus or a convention. In fact, not one single vote has been cast in the 2008 election. Not one vote. Each state holds its political process in a different manner- none of it makes any sense to me. One woman from told me that you had to register with party, and only vote that party:. She had to register one year in advance.

My legs got tired, and I sat down on the grass.. When Russell Means spoke, I could barely stand up to watch. After his words, I tried to talk to him. I wanted to tell him about the impact his book “Where White Men Dare not Tread” had made on me having grown up in South Dakota and being so unaware. it’s a powerful book that makes me think of HR 1077. But, he was involved in the crowd , so I watched. I will send him a thank you note- I believe this is a year for handwritten notes, with postage.

I went to sit on one of the low walls. The air was filled with the sounds of sirens, and someone commented on the police cars. Sirens are common here, perhaps they are common in all of America these days. But these police cars were escorting a limo, and followed by a line of black vans: those black vans are the Presidents communication teams. I explained to a young woman with deep purple eye makeup that that was either the Presidential motorcade or one of the decoys. The WHCA/WHMO never send out just one so the people, “we the people“ are never sure where the president actually is: national security.

Today was also the day that the Pope arrived in America. President and Mrs. Bush met and welcomed His Holiness at Andrews AFB. This may have well been the real motorcade. A group of Catholics from a church in California passed through the Capitol area. They were singing, and carrying signs welcoming the Holy Father… the language was Spanish; it was an interesting moment.

My legs finally gave out, and I started back to the Metro ( the subway). I stopped and talked to two Ron Paul supporters…RP people always say hello. We talked about May 1 2003, and other things. They were pooped, and I was pooped. The National Mall is a beautiful but big place.

At the metro stop, I sat down and waited for the train. A young woman spoke to me. It turned out that her husband had just been stationed at Walter Reed, after returning from Iraq. I told her I was retired from the Air Force, and spent eight weeks in Walter Reed. She said that they have not even been here long enough to move into their apartment. I told here about the Freedom Rally. I told her about the movie “Body of War” which someone had recommended I see. (Phil Donahue produced it; Ron Paul makes a statement in it; and it is now showing in DC.) I told her what I told my anti-war friend: I don’t need to see a movie, I can visit Walter Reed. Since May 1st, 2003, when “major operations ended” thousands and thousands of wounded have passed through the DC military hospitals. They are not invisible- but they are also not seen. Her husband is a medic: he sees, and she sees the weariness in his young life. And she worries about when he will go back to the undeclared “war”. She got off the train before I did. I thanked her, and hugged her, too. ( believe in hugs.)

Alone, I reflected on the day. I pulled out the flyer that someone had handed me. Actually, it turned out not to be a flyer, but a small poster, folded to bumper-sticker size. RON PAUL PRESIDENT 2008. His message was printed and compared to McCain, to Clinton, to Obama: his message a solid row of YES. I was sorry that I had not talked to the young woman who thrust that paper in my hand.

When I got home, I found some magnets to han[g] the poster on the refrigerator. Only when I smoothed out the wrinkles did I see the small print, at the bottom of the sheet: Paid for by South Dakotans for Ron Paul.

Amen. and thank you.

V/r Dianne Moen

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