I have no lord...

This morning, my compañera Ariel and I met Lauren in the Publix parking lot – we were car-pooling, in this case truck-pooling, to Ft Myers to protest bush’s vp’s appearance there. Ft Myers is an hour ride that took us almost two hours to arrive. He was appearing on a sprawling college campus, the Florida Gulf Coast University. We found out later that this land we are on used to be wetlands that were paved over in order to hold this environmental studies college – go figure. When we turn off the road to drive onto the campus, a handful of Kerry supporters stand on the corner – we honk madly and wave at each other!

We drive quite a ways onto the campus before we see the arena. We follow the students directing us to park on a huge field next to the stadium where cheney is scheduled to appear. I skip a few empty spaces to park at the end of the lane so that I have easy leaving access – and more truck visibility. Almost instantly security appears – a buff white male little older than the students –  who shouts at me get back in line. I calmly explain to him I need room to turn around without damaging someone else’s vehicle. He finally tells me okay in terms that make it seem it was his idea. As we get out the truck, a young white womon and her 4 year old son pull in next to us and introduce themselves as fellow activists who were looking for us! We’re happy to connect. Last nite when we sent out the action alert, we were unable to chose a meeting spot because we’d never been to Ft Myers previously.

We began to naively take out the banners when the same youngish cop returned to tell us we’re not allowed to protest here. He’s joined by another white male officer who takes macho to new heights. This officer imperiously directs us to leave the parking area, leave this part of the campus and to go to the student union – the empty student union – where there is a “free speech” protest area set up for us.

Right.

I refuse and demand instead to talk to the man in charge – I’m informed the chief is not there. I get his phone number and call his office. The young person who answers the phone struggles to be polite and helpful. When I do not accept the ‘chief is out of the office routine’, she agrees to radio him. As I’m waiting on the line, Lauren puts in a quick call to Andrea to get her expert advice – can they really tell us we can’t protest in front of the building?

While I’m holding on the phone, the macho police officer keeps attempting to get us to move along. We inform him that we are going in to see our vice president. He asks for our tickets and we are ready with “Our friends are meeting us out front with the tickets.” He howls with contempt and declares snidely: “You’re never gonna get in cause they’ve given out five times the number of tickets then they have room for.” He points out the absurdly long line of white republicans standing in stifling heat and humidity waiting to get into the building – the place we want to be.

While I’m holding on the phone, the first police officer seems to have shifted allegiances – his peer’s macho-madness seems to make him more calm and reasonable, even almost supportive! Lauren whispers to me that Andrea affirms we have the right to protest but reminds us there’s not enuff of us here yet for some of us to get arrested and out of commission for however long they decide to detain us.

While I’m still waiting on the phone, our kind officer informs us that he’s just heard from the chief and we can protest on the sidewalk along the sides of the road where the cars are turning into the parking lot (instead of shut away at an empty student union) – a victory if I’ve ever seen one!!!!

We thank him for his efforts and continue to head towards the building, sans signs except for the clothes we’re wearing. Macho man tries to stop us but our new friend informs him we are not going to protest, just pick up tickets.

Right!

As we approach the building and the long lines of melting republicans, we see a lone Vietnam war vet standing and holding a large “Another Viet Nam war veteran for Kerry” sign. We whoop and holler as we walk towards him. There are five adult protestors now and we scan the crowds for the rest of the CodePINK womxxn. Leslie, the young mother that has joined us, tells us there has to be other protestors – she belongs to a large local group that was committed to demonstrating today.

While we’re talking, a TV cameraperson and reporter approach the vet to interview him. He only gets to speak briefly before a very well-dressed white-haired republican white woman (not to be redudant), probably in her 70’s pops up and begins challenging him and his position. I ease over to stand behind yet between the two. When this woman states that bush is a christian man, I immediately take over the interview and get to have this woman explain to me “What exactly is christian about bush?”

“Why he prays every day, and he reads his bible,” she claims with acute religious authority, the cameras steadily rolling.

“Oh okay,” I respond, my words dripping with incredulity I hope. “So he prays and reads his bible and this makes him a christian? I always thought it was the works a man does in his life that determines his christianity, following in the footsteps of Jesus.”

She turns and sincerely reassures the viewing audience “President Bush indeed does follow in the steps of Jesus, by protecting our country and keeping us safe.”

“By bombing innocent women, children and men?” I persist.

“An eye for an eye” she vehemently spits out at me.

I attempt to hide my glee as I tell the viewing audience and her “And Jesus said, you have heard it said, an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, but I say unto you love thine enemies, do good to those who would harm you. How has bush loved our enemies and done good to them?’

At this point, my good Christian woman turns heel as she yells at me “If you’ve really taken jesus as your saviour, you’d understand our sweet lord.”

I yell back, even though I tried not to: “Jesus said blessed are the peacemakers.” And even though I really wanted to say “I have no lord, sweet or otherwise,” but that was off-topic.

The cameras didn’t follow her but kept rolling on me this time – I ignored them as I spoke with the reporter, explaining why we were here, how crucial it is to get the message to cheney we know who he is, we know about his Halliburton connection driving us into war so he can get even more wealthy by helping himself to Iraqi’s oil. I got to say the only moral and conscious thing for cheney to do is to resign. I got to talk about domestic issues and cheney’s vote against the assault weapons ban that recently was allowed by this administration to lapse.

We all got major news coverage, no arrests, and we were happy our work was finished for the day.