I knew I would march again - Democratic Underground

DancingBear

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Sun Oct-19-03 07:07 PM
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I knew I would march again

I knew I would march again.

As a young man of 17, I marched against Nixon, and Vietnam. An unjust war facilitated by men of dubious character and hollow honor, wrapping themselves in the guise of patriotism. I knew little then, of how things worked, but I knew much of how things should be. Idealism came tempered by police sticks and Neanderthal definitions of hair and dress, but it came nevertheless. I knew I would march again.

As a young man of 18, I walked softly over a small hill and rested at a spot where four young students lost their lives in opposition to that same war. It was two years after May 4, 1970, and I knew that I would march again.

As a young man of 20, I heeded the call for the right of women to be treated as equals, and watched as gay males had the audacity to hold an outdoor dance under the dome of a football stadium. I learned that neither love nor competence was gender specific, and I watched my idealism run headlong into bigotry and intolerance packaged as good old time religion. I knew that I had to march again.

I watched with satisfaction in 1974 as Nixon boarded the helicopter for that final ride out of Washington, satisfied that I played at least some small part. I lent myself to the struggle against nuclear power and went back to the land. I lived a life of purpose, and perhaps I would not need to march again.

Time passed, as it is wont to do. I became settled, contented. Things began to accumulate, and new cars felt better than old ones. I packed that idealism away in the trunk of youthful exuberance, replaced by the comforts of everyday life.

And life, to be sure, was good. Hard work and luck netted us whatever we needed and/or wanted. Those things I scoffed at years ago now found places of importance in our new lives, and idealism and justice shared space with sports cars and spur of the moment vacations. Reagan would come, and Reagan would go, and I’d be no worse for wear. I felt no need to march again.

I thought I’d turned the corner, and that all that youthful exuberance had been replaced by the pragmatic conservatism that seems to always accompany some degree of financial success. It should have been time to turn away from those things I believed, and to embrace their antithesis. But I could not. Those deeply held beliefs that were the core of my being so long ago began to reawaken. Bush I stirred the pot, Gingrich turned on the flame, and Limbaugh brought it to a boil. I wondered if I could march again.

Then came the illegitimate bastard son from Texas, stealing the highest office in the land, and stealing my country with it. Here was someone preying on the hearts and minds of innocent Americans, taking their willful ignorance and wrapping it up in a red, white and blue package with a note that said: “Handle with care – hatred enclosed.” I thought it might be time to march again, and I looked for around to find an outlet for my beliefs.

I found this place – this wonderful place. I found people, who, by their thoughts and actions, brought back my sense of righteous indignation, and help me find my purpose. I thank each and every one of you for bringing that back. You all may never understand the lifeline that you provided, the knowledge you have given, and the hope you have restored. On the 25th I will once again lend myself to the cause that is so important to us all. I want my country back.

Thank you, DU.

I knew I would march again.