The alarm rang 4:30 this morning but we couldn't drag
ourselves awake after going to sleep at 1:30! So we slept in another hour and
then jumped into gear.
Rolling up sleeping bags, deflating camping pads,
repacking backpacks, it took 6 womyn one hour and 15 minutes to get ourselves
fed, coffee-ed & tea-ed, and into the truck and waiting prius - along with
my 6 year old grandchild.
We are all so very excited and ready to hit the road for
Marissa! As we roll down the highway through the occupied East Bay cities of
Ohlone lands and onto the open land of Highway 5, several cars honk in support,
passengers grinning while they wave or throw fists into the air, while drivers
bend furiously over steering wheels trying to peer into the truck!
No one gives us the finger or tries to run us off the
Our first rest stop, we're still pumped up and sooooo
thrilled to be on the road. We grab flyers and one of our most beautiful
posters that Molly Jane so fiercely and lovingly created for Marissa, and stand
in the path of the bathrooms singing our Marissa-mas carols that Becky
brilliantly crafted for us.
It is our first public protest as our caravan group! Our
two new compañeras, Davina and Kata, slide right into our piece of street
theater, singing, handing out flyers, engaging with fellow travelers, and
documenting our presence at this rest stop.
Approaching Los Angeles, a state trooper gleefully pulls
the truck over to the shoulder of the highway. Blindingly pale and stocky, the
officer towers over me as he points out I don't have my CA business number
printed on the side of my truck.
When I tell him I'm not a business vehicle but a motor
vehicle, he exclaims he's never seen one of these trucks converted into a
camper before. I'm like well I bet you've never seen one painted "Black
Womyn's Lives Matter: FREE MARISSA NOW either!
I point out the side door, windows, and vents that
clearly indicate this is a camper. He tries to casually engage in conversation
asking me where I'm going to, how my day is. I inform him I'm tired and need to
get going. He hands me back my license, registration and insurance card while
instructing me on how to pull back into traffic. Dah! I tell him I do know how
to drive - while I do keep in mind Marissa and getting to Jacksonville without
entangling further with this police.
Miraculously, we get to Los Angeles an hour early and the
courageous and determined L.A. Black Lives Matters occupiers of the police
department wave happily, some rushing down the stairs to greet the truck before
we find a park a block away.
Our presentation is delayed until 8 and both drivers, Ann
& myself, are too beat to participate so the rest of the Caravan sistahs
give an awesome presentation, hand out flyers, and secure a renewed commitment
to fight for Marissa's freedom with all eyes on Jacksonville January 27th.