3 September 2004
Charles Bowman
With the Raging Grannies in the Big Apple March of August 29
(click here for a slideshow of Charles Bowman's pictures during the march)Raging Grannies
About a month ago, my wife and I were invited to join a group called the Rochester Raging Grannies and journey to New York City to march in the August 29 'World Says No to Bush Agenda', an event sponsored by the folks at United for Peace and Justice (www.unitedforpeace.org). My wife is a member of a group called Buffalo's Raging Grannies. We had considered traveling on one of the buses sponsored by the Western New York Peace Center (www.wnypeace.org ) or the Buffalo State Students for Peace, but the logistical problems of meeting up with other grannies in NYC dictated we go to Rochester. The Rochester bus trip was organized by Metro Justice, Inc. (www.metrojustice.org ), a Rochester based organization dedicated to furthering the cause of social justice.
The purpose of the Raging Grannies (www.rochesterraginggrannies.org ) is to draw attention to social justice issues (equal pay, fair trade, war on terrorism, ballistic missile defence, Ashcroftian injustices, etc.) using the medium of song laced with satirical lyrics. Grannies compose new lyrics to well-known songs and sing them in granny garb: flowery hats, colorful shawls and aprons. Their approach is very successful in attracting the TV cameras, and a word or two of their message gets heard over the newsreader's voice during the usual sound bite. Examples of their creations may be found at www.rochesterraginggrannies.org .
The plan was for Buffalo, Rochester, New York City, Long Island, and whatever other gaggles of Ranging Grannies to meet in New York City at an apartment near 7th avenue and 25th street - near the start of the march - and rehearse the songs.
On the bus
Saturday night, we left Buffalo and drove to Rochester for the midnight bus ride to Manhattan. Arriving in Rochester, we learned that no buses would be allowed into Manhattan. The bus company was informed to take marchers to Harrison New Jersey for the $6 round-trip subway ride to Manhattan. Apparently, the decision to prevent buses from entering NYC was announced a few hours before our scheduled departure, on Saturday afternoon. This late action forced many local organizers, including Rochester's Metro Justice, to call riders and inform them to carry extra cash. This sudden change in plans created an extra burden on debt-laden students and people on low incomes, not to mention the local organizers.
The bus - a very modern one - held 56 people and all seats but 2 were taken. We settled in and one of the Rochester organizers made an announcement about not using the toilet facilities located at the back of the bus because riders seated in the back 'get more then there fair share.' She said that one pit stop will be made at the half-way point where real toilet facilities exist. If you can wait, please do so. If you can't, then use the bus's facilities. She added that further announcements will be made in the morning. We were seated near the front, and I silently thought about the real estate maxim: location, location, location. Shortly into the trip I noticed the amber lighted man-woman figurines flash on and off several times. My olfactory senses confirmed suspicions that Mother Nature was indeed making serous demands on some riders. Fortunately, the atmospheric disturbance was temporary — suggesting the circulation of fresh air from the outside. No one complained.
We rode down route 81 towards Pennsylvania. The full moon was shining and the valleys between the hills were fogged in. I wondered why executives or decision-makers of companies who design and build the buses don't experience at least one long bus ride so as to ensure better, more comfortable buses.
We slept on and off and awoke to gritty Harrison N.J. Since we arrived early, the bus driver suggested that we travel to Jersey City and save riders $3.00 in subway expenses. He threaded the bus through the narrow streets to Jersey City's Journal Square PATH train station.
Arrival at Journal Square brought the promised additional announcements: sign the document relieving Metro Justice of liability in case of trouble (they tried but were unable to obtain insurance for the trip); write the phone number of the National Lawyers Guild in case of arrest, and keep it in a very safe place - most choose to write the phone number on their arm or ankle; take bottled water and energy bar with you as it will be hot and access to food is sometimes difficult in NYC jails; give the organizer your cell phone number; if you don't have a cell phone, buddy up with someone who has one; be considerate of NYC police since their dark blue uniforms absorb the heat and they work long hours; write down the bus number; be back at the bus by 7:30 P.M.; have a nice day.
Grannies on the March
Arriving in Manhattan at 8 A.M., everybody went on their separate ways: some decided to visit Ground Zero before marching, others - including the grannies and myself - decided to get a bit to eat before marching. We spotted a Starbucks but that was voted down in favor a nearby mom and pop bagel eatery.
After eating, the grannies congregated at the apartment of a New York City granny, located very conveniently a few steps away from the start of the march (about 7th avenue and 23rd street). The plan was to let all gaggles of grannies congregate here and run through 11 prepared songs prior the noontime start of the march.
Just before noon, we walked to 7th and 25th and decided to stand on the curb and sing to the people as they marched by us. My job - along with 3 other male companions - was to display the Rochester Granny banner as the grannies entertained the marchers. Since it took only two people to hold the banner, we took turns throughout the afternoon. I took photos of the event when I wasn't holding one end of the banner.
And then the waves of humanity started coming at noon. The density of people was such that no one could cross the street. Streams of people marched parallel to 7th avenue on the sidewalk behind us and, I suppose, the opposite sidewalk but I couldn't see. NYC police officers - dressed in their standard everyday attire - stationed themselves on both sides of the grannies.
People would stop temporarily to hear and cheer the Raging Grannies. Lots of laughter. Several people remarked I wasn't a granny. Removing my hat to display my bald head, I replied 'How can you tell?' Everyone laughed and continued their march.
The hallmark of the Raging Grannies is their granny garb which attracts TV cameras and the press like flies. For the first hour of the march, the press surrounded the grannies: a reporter from Oslo, Norway; National Public Radio, the New York Times, Fox News, and others I couldn't read because their tags were flipped around.
Many microphones were pushed into the faces of the grannies while they sang. We learned the next day that National Public Radio led their 5 P.M. Sunday newscast with the Raging Grannies. A snippet of their lyrics can be heard at http://www.npr.org/features/feature.php?wfId=3878207 . Click on 'All Things Considered audio'.
A tuneless reporter from the Times, a curiosityless reporter from Time
A young man came up to me and said 'I'm from the New York Times'. His tags confirmed his statement. He said he didn't know the name of the tune the grannies sang a few minutes earlier. I couldn't remember which song they sung, so I asked a Rochester Granny. She pointed her finger to the name of the previously sung tune to which new lyrics were added: the title of the original song was 'Battle Hymn of the Republic'. I gave him a copy of the grannies' 'New Battle Hymn of the Republic'. A few of those lyrics appeared in Monday's (8/31/2004) New York Times in an article authored by Marc Santora ('Families and Individuals Join in Anger and Frustration'). I am not sure if it was Mr. Santora who asked me the question. Nevertheless, I am surprised that a news gathering person from the New York Times would not recognize the tune 'Battle Hymn of the Republic'.
A man displaying tags from Time magazine came up to me and said I looked like Dick Cheney. I never thought of it, but I guess I do. I expressed surprise, smiled and showed him my bald head. He didn't say a word, but continued staring in stony-faced silence. Curious as to why he didn't pursue his original statement, I replied with a question for him: 'Good grief, does that mean I should tell you to go f$#% yourself?. Other reporters standing nearby laughed but the man from Time did not. I turned around to resume viewing the march. He was the only reporter I talked to that didn't ask for my name.
The parade goes by
One P.M. and there was absolutely no change in the density of people, but the sun got higher in the sky and we lost the protective shadow cast by a nearby building. The police retreated to the edge of the sidewalk by the building, understandably trying to stay in what remained of the shadow. The grannies remained on the curb at 7th and 25st repeatedly singing their 11 songs to the throngs marching by. Their audience changed every few minutes, yelling 'The grannies rock!', 'Go grannies!'.
Two P.M. came and there was absolutely no change in the density of people walking by, but the 90-degree temperature began taking its toll on some grannies, and others wanted to retain enough strength to make the march past Madison Square Garden convention facility, and save their voices for the march.
We decided to retreat back to the apartment for 30 minute R and R. An elderly granny from Long Island said she suffers from Lyme disease and had to get back to her home on Shelter Island. We said good-bye.
Prior to the retreat, another fellow and I joined the NYC policeman standing in the small shadow and we began a conversation. The officer said he came on duty at 8 A.M. and was scheduled to be off duty at 10 P.M. - and back again on duty at midnight. I asked him if he ever saw this many people and he said no, adding he has been on the force for 5 years. Fred, a fellow banner holder from Rochester, gave the policeman a bottle of water which he gratefully accepted. We shook hands with the officer and left for the apartment.
Following a brief rest, we returned to 7th avenue just before 3 P.M. The tail end of the march happened to be there and we joined in, marching just before the NYC Quakers and just behind the thousand flag-draped coffins. Someone noticed Pete Seeger just ahead of us. I went up and snapped a couple of photos while he was standing. In one photo, he was playing what I believe to be a base flute or recorder. Unfortunately, I didn't have the sense to ask him what he was playing. He kindly autographed one of the Raging Grannies songs.
The marchers were delayed for some unknown reason. So we all stood around. It turned out to be due someone setting fire to a large banner of some sort. That incident was out of our view. The folks holding the 1,000 flag-draped cardboard coffins remained still and standing during the delay, which may have lasted nearly an hour. As far as I could tell, none of those coffins touched the ground during that time.
The man with the ambulatory mike
Finally the march resumed and someone with a speaker and microphone walked up to Vicki — a Rochester Raging Granny blessed with a Carnegie Hall - quality voice — with the offer of some amplification. The man with the ambulatory amplifier had mounted the battery powered speaker and 15 watt amplifier in a baby carriage (minus a baby). He strolled around during the afternoon looking for talented people whose messages were in need of amplification. He performed very great service to many talented people. He stayed with the grannies until the end of the march. The man deserves a Nobel Peace Prize.
One of the fist granny songs amplified was 'Follow the Money'. Mr. Seeger clapped at the end. He didn't clap at the conclusion of all the granny songs, but that one he did. Here is one verse of the lyrics - composed by Vicki Ryder, Rochester Raging Grannies - and sung to the tune 'Beer Barrel Polka': Follow the money/To see why this war was long planned./Follow the money,/And then we will all understand. / Follow the money,/ It leads right to Cheney's front door!/ They've gone and bombed the Iraqis / So Halliburton can get more.
MSG
The march finally resumed at a steady pace, and around 5 P.M. we reached Madison Square Garden. MSG was ringed with sand-filled trucks, multiple police barricades (some with chicken wire), multitudinous NYC police officers, others dressed in plain suits, and one person - helmeted - in full battle dress holding a rife. The sign over the entrance said: "Madison Square Garden, Welcome". Looking northward up 7th avenue beyond the convention center, the Fox News sign symbolically dominated the backdrop (MadGardenFox.jpg).
As we marched by the Garden, the crowed shouted "4 more months!," and the grannies sang several songs, with more intensity than usual.
Passing Madison Square Garden, everybody became relatively quiet. The folks who carried the one thousand coffins ahead of us dismantled the coffins, carefully folding the American flags. Someone yelled: 'Don't let the flag touch the ground!'. It didn't. I looked around, but Pete Seeger was nowhere to be found.
George is a uniter
A reporter from the NY Sun came up to me and asked why I was in NY. I replied 'George Bush'. He asked what it was about George Bush that brought me to NYC. I said look around you. George is a uniter, and I want to thank him for this. I'm not sure if he fully understood my sarcasm, but he noticed I didn't answer his original question. He then asked what George Bush policy troubles most. I replied that it is morally wrong to order our men and women into battle for reasons based on lies. He said since I just marched past Madison Square Garden, did I think that the people standing around the garden heard my message? I replied that it wasn't their job to hear our message. Their job is to protect the convention center, not make national policy. Our message is directed toward the policy makers in Washington. If they read the NY Sun, then they may get my message. I understand that President Bush does not read newspapers, but if his newspaper reader reads the Sun for him, he may get my message. That seemed to put a damper on further questions, but he wanted to interview my wife when I told him she was a raging granny. This he did.
We finally reached Union Square, and located a mom and pop pizza place. We dined together along with other NYC residents. We struck up a conversation with a couple, NYC residents. The woman was originally from Niagara Falls. She had carried a sign that said: "Send George Bush on a Swift Boat out of Washington!." The two slices of pizza topped with spinach, feta cheese and tomatoes were delicious.
Fox's setting sun
We had to make a pit stop at the Barnes and Noble book store at Union Square (thank you Barnes and Noble). While walking from the pizzeria, we passed a Fox News unit taping an on-scene report at S. Park Ave and E. 26th. One technician held a gold-colored disc reflecting the remnants of 7 P.M. sun onto the reporter's face. I immediately thought of George Bush's May 1 2003 Mission Accomplished speech, and the positioning the aircraft carrier in the setting sun so as to shine golden rays onto the president's face. An elderly lady came up to the reporter and said a few words which reached the Fox microphone, apparently. I understand they had to start the report again, much to the chagrin of the TV reporter. One Fox technician laughed.
This was America marching
Some final thoughts. When asked by others where we came from, my wife and I replied Buffalo. Those asking the question - and there were many lived in New York City who did so - always thanked us for coming. There was no joking about Buffalo's winter weather. None. Nada. We thanked them for putting on a first-rate, well run, peaceful march.
There was no dominant age group in the march. Every age, every economic demographic, every race, seemed to be represented in whatever proportion happens to exist in the general population, ambulatory or not. This was America marching, exercising the First Amendment, and hundreds of thousands of participants were on-message for a corresponding number of different reasons.
I don't know how many people joined in the march. But a lower limit can be gleaned from knowing the width of the sidewalks on 7th avenue and the avenue itself, and how many people it takes to line that width - shoulder to shoulder. That human geometry remained fixed for 3 hours on August 29 as each 'line' marched by roughly 0.5 M.P.H. with an interline spacing of a foot or two. It's a lower limit because there are ways of packing people tighter in the same space than the one I have described. I'll leave the calculation to the folks in NYC as I do not have the knowledge on hand. No doubt, someone has already done it.
Enduring a broiling subway ride, we returned to the bus at 7 P.M. only to find our particular seats near the frontal safe-haven of the bus occupied by a middle aged woman. Giving her a puzzled look, she said she said she had to move to the front of the bus. We understood. It was time to take our turn towards the rear. She went to sleep. Waking up a couple of hours later, she offered a candy bar and towelettes. We thank her for the candy bar, and said we had such towels.During the 6 hour trip back to Rochester, we gained a deeper understanding of the commitment of these bus riders as Mother Nature seemingly turned the amber light on and off throughout the evening. Washingtonian ordure overpowered anything on that bus, and every passenger understood that. The burdens encountered must be shared by those who are paying attention.
Copyright 2004 by Buffalo Report, Inc.
