Flashback

I went to our local Women’s March today. It was pink and wrapped in funny signs and Native Americans watched us march and thanked us for the good day.

And I still looked up to the roof to see if there were any snipers. Because you never forget once you have felt the threat from your own country.

Fifty years ago I walked in a march in Berkeley California protesting Provo Park and the Vietnam War. I think it was on a Saturday, I remember it being a nice day. I walked downtown from where I lived on the corner of Grove and Ashby to the park. I was 19 years old. Hundreds of young people discovered we were being watched  by snipers from rooftops as helicopters buzzed above us and the streets were blocked off. Trapped. Even my naive mind realized that if just one person freaked out we were all in danger from our government. As people placed flowers in the Guards rifles I prayed that peace was as powerful as I believed.

Fifty years later and here I am walking down the street with police on either end of the walk and I can’t help but look up to the roofs of this beautiful Victorian town and I don’t see one sniper and I don’t hear one helicopter circling above and I think to myself, that’s a good sign.