....or Confessions of a lazy protester.
The quote in my title came to mind this morning when we arrived too late to get arrested at the Occupy Livermore protest at Lawrence Livermore Nuclear Weapons Lab. By the time we arrived at 9:15 the last row of Alameda County sheriffs had marched off in formation, leaving a still-imposing line of officers dressed in camoflage, their billy clubs across their chest. There were a few of the usual protesters still standing around and they thought I supposed, it was comical when we walked right up to the barricade and said "Can we still be arrested?" One officer said "No, it's all over Ma'am." Chagrinned, we turned around to find one of the lifelong white-haired activists near us. She smiled and said softly, "Next time maybe you should leave a little earlier."
The Good Friday Protest has been happening faithfully for about 30 years at Lawrence Livermore Lab to make sure people don't forget that we are making weapons of mass distruction right here in the USA. Wondering why it's suddening affiliated with the Occupy movement, we know it's always been called an Ecumenical protest, attracting all sorts of peace-loving people from different faiths and walks of life. My husband Doug first heard about it from the late Father Bill O'Donnell, who is still there in spirit usually with his picture on a placard that says "Presente". He would have gotten arrested if he could.
The first time Doug introduced me to this group of folks was about 8 years ago, and we were about to be married. We came early, around 6:30 or 7:00 to the rally and to listen to the speeches. It was very cold, and we were glad when everyone started walking toward the gate on Vasco Rd to block it. There was singing of songs and people carried signs, following a big wooden cross with an arty Jesus on it. We watched as the cops marched out to meet them and blocked the gate. The folks that agreed to make a statement and be arrested lined up in rows in front of them, and we were among the others that cheered them on from the curb. Besides, we didn't know how long we would possibly be detained, and we didn't want to miss our honeymoon.
The next year we came a little later, enough time to catch the end of the speeches, march along with the others to the lab's gate, chant and sing, and cheer on the arrestees. Once again though, we couldn't stay.... we had a trip planned to Europe. Similar excuses presented themselves until about four years ago.
Another Good Friday we decided to get more involved, we got there just as folks were nearing the gate. We had decided to be arrested that day. We had been observers long enough. Stepping off the curb, we were the participants, staring back at the young men in their black uniforms,in fully regalia, looking back at the gathering through their dark sunglasses. (I wondered, "Are you listening to our songs? Did your mother teach you these songs of gentleness when you were small? Do you hear me? Do you see me?) We kept singing peace songs and spirituals and my favorite, "Dona Pacem" (grant us peace) as a "round". When it came our turn, the sheriff read those of us in the front row our rights, and said if we didn't leave we would be under arrest. We didn't, so each sheriff put our hands behind our backs, surrounded our wrists with handcuffs, and pulled up on our hands in the back to remind us of their control. People in the crowd rooted for us and called out "thank you" as we were led back toward the busses. I was handed over to a female officer, who frisked me and asked if I had anything in my pockets that could injure her before she plunged her hand in. All of our belongings were put into a bag for us, and we were taken, still handcuffed, to a bus. Sitting forward in the seat because of the cuffs, we chatted a little and shared with the other detainees. We told them that Father O'Donnell used to call this an "easy bust", and they agreed, having come here for so many years in a row. They hoped that each year more young people will come out and realize that nuclear weapons shouldn't be a choice for anyone.
When it came time to get off the bus, because of the closeness of the seat in front of me, I found out I couldn't stand up in close quarters without being able to hold on to something in front of me. The driver came back in to find out why I was lagging. He helped me up. Then we were all put into one of 3 cyclone fence cages to wait. We wondered about other prisoners that have been put in much worse places. There were a couple of nuns and priests and ministers and a number of activists, many who recognized each other from other years. ...... Within an hour and a half, all of us had been removed from the cages two at a time, brought to a staging area where we actually had a photo taken with an arresting officer, were fingerprinted, ID'd, and released to be driven to the street and let go. I guess we hadn't had to worry about missing our honeymoon because of jailtime.
The next year was about the same, but we arrived a little later, coming just as the folks were about to be arrested, and we were able to join in.
Next time, we realized we could park in the neighborhood across the street and we arrived just as a couple of lines of protesters had walked with the sheriffs and asked if we could be arrested. They let us. We were arrested, booked, and back at our car by 10:30 AM.
This year. This year.... We don't want to give an excuse. There was traffic, yes, but we didn't account for it. As we drove past the gate of the lab to park our car, the last protesters were being led away. We were late. We were lazy protesters, and we're sorry.
There really shouldn't be any nuclear bombs. They don't keep anyone safe.
The quote in my title came to mind this morning when we arrived too late to get arrested at the Occupy Livermore protest at Lawrence Livermore Nuclear Weapons Lab. By the time we arrived at 9:15 the last row of Alameda County sheriffs had marched off in formation, leaving a still-imposing line of officers dressed in camoflage, their billy clubs across their chest. There were a few of the usual protesters still standing around and they thought I supposed, it was comical when we walked right up to the barricade and said "Can we still be arrested?" One officer said "No, it's all over Ma'am." Chagrinned, we turned around to find one of the lifelong white-haired activists near us. She smiled and said softly, "Next time maybe you should leave a little earlier."
The Good Friday Protest has been happening faithfully for about 30 years at Lawrence Livermore Lab to make sure people don't forget that we are making weapons of mass distruction right here in the USA. Wondering why it's suddening affiliated with the Occupy movement, we know it's always been called an Ecumenical protest, attracting all sorts of peace-loving people from different faiths and walks of life. My husband Doug first heard about it from the late Father Bill O'Donnell, who is still there in spirit usually with his picture on a placard that says "Presente". He would have gotten arrested if he could.
The first time Doug introduced me to this group of folks was about 8 years ago, and we were about to be married. We came early, around 6:30 or 7:00 to the rally and to listen to the speeches. It was very cold, and we were glad when everyone started walking toward the gate on Vasco Rd to block it. There was singing of songs and people carried signs, following a big wooden cross with an arty Jesus on it. We watched as the cops marched out to meet them and blocked the gate. The folks that agreed to make a statement and be arrested lined up in rows in front of them, and we were among the others that cheered them on from the curb. Besides, we didn't know how long we would possibly be detained, and we didn't want to miss our honeymoon.
The next year we came a little later, enough time to catch the end of the speeches, march along with the others to the lab's gate, chant and sing, and cheer on the arrestees. Once again though, we couldn't stay.... we had a trip planned to Europe. Similar excuses presented themselves until about four years ago.
Another Good Friday we decided to get more involved, we got there just as folks were nearing the gate. We had decided to be arrested that day. We had been observers long enough. Stepping off the curb, we were the participants, staring back at the young men in their black uniforms,in fully regalia, looking back at the gathering through their dark sunglasses. (I wondered, "Are you listening to our songs? Did your mother teach you these songs of gentleness when you were small? Do you hear me? Do you see me?) We kept singing peace songs and spirituals and my favorite, "Dona Pacem" (grant us peace) as a "round". When it came our turn, the sheriff read those of us in the front row our rights, and said if we didn't leave we would be under arrest. We didn't, so each sheriff put our hands behind our backs, surrounded our wrists with handcuffs, and pulled up on our hands in the back to remind us of their control. People in the crowd rooted for us and called out "thank you" as we were led back toward the busses. I was handed over to a female officer, who frisked me and asked if I had anything in my pockets that could injure her before she plunged her hand in. All of our belongings were put into a bag for us, and we were taken, still handcuffed, to a bus. Sitting forward in the seat because of the cuffs, we chatted a little and shared with the other detainees. We told them that Father O'Donnell used to call this an "easy bust", and they agreed, having come here for so many years in a row. They hoped that each year more young people will come out and realize that nuclear weapons shouldn't be a choice for anyone.
When it came time to get off the bus, because of the closeness of the seat in front of me, I found out I couldn't stand up in close quarters without being able to hold on to something in front of me. The driver came back in to find out why I was lagging. He helped me up. Then we were all put into one of 3 cyclone fence cages to wait. We wondered about other prisoners that have been put in much worse places. There were a couple of nuns and priests and ministers and a number of activists, many who recognized each other from other years. ...... Within an hour and a half, all of us had been removed from the cages two at a time, brought to a staging area where we actually had a photo taken with an arresting officer, were fingerprinted, ID'd, and released to be driven to the street and let go. I guess we hadn't had to worry about missing our honeymoon because of jailtime.
The next year was about the same, but we arrived a little later, coming just as the folks were about to be arrested, and we were able to join in.
Next time, we realized we could park in the neighborhood across the street and we arrived just as a couple of lines of protesters had walked with the sheriffs and asked if we could be arrested. They let us. We were arrested, booked, and back at our car by 10:30 AM.
This year. This year.... We don't want to give an excuse. There was traffic, yes, but we didn't account for it. As we drove past the gate of the lab to park our car, the last protesters were being led away. We were late. We were lazy protesters, and we're sorry.
There really shouldn't be any nuclear bombs. They don't keep anyone safe.
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