Meeting Up With The Church Ladies

Originally written in 2009.

Me and the Church Ladies

            The idea came swiftly from somewhere deep in my gut propelled by the passion that accompanies an anger one feels when they spot an egotistic bully picking on the schoolyard innocent. You know, like Kanye West’s treatment of Taylor Swift on that nationally televised MTV awards show.  It is an idea that stays. No matter how you push it aside the thought keeps popping back up until you realize that you have to act on it.  And so I sent an email inquiring about participating in the 9/12 March on Washington DC.

            For me it was the breathtakingly obvious attempt by the Obama Administration (see bully), majority Democrat lawmakers and complicit media to ram through a power grab (see Obamacare) and alter our country forever. That stark realization was my motivation. The Republicans, weak spined patsies with no stomach for a fight, in my mind were equally at fault, because of their self preservationism. 

            It was four days after the initial email correspondence with jlmcgraw@xyz.com and only t- minus eleven days from protest.  I had been planning to broach the subject of my interest with my family at any moment. The moment came while my wife and I were sitting at the dining table with the TV turned to Glenn Beck. All of a sudden I looked up and here was the lady I had exchanged emails with, Joy McGraw, Atlanta, Ga. on the screen talking about the Georgia participation with Glenn Beck on national TV!  Certainly that moment was providential because I was still on the proverbial fence.  With the subsequent blessings of wife and daughters I phoned Ms. McGraw and cemented my plans for sharing my voice of objection.

            Through some subsequent discussions with Joy, I became the designated leader of the second bus leaving from the Georgia State Capitol Friday morning September 11, 2009.  The bus was filled with fifty six folks ranging in age from twenty something to seventy something.  We had folks from Augusta to the east, Birmingham Ala. from the west, Cumming from the north and Cordele from the south.  No radical right wingers were on this bus called Liberty, just concerned hard working Americans with traditional conservative values wanting to make a difference and to be heard.

            The lady I ended up sitting next to on the bus was a widowed Jewish grandmother and office manager originally from Brooklyn, NY.  Her name was Marcia Koch, no relation to former NY Mayor Ed Koch, she was a real American original.

            Our long ride saw us arrive in DC after most of our routine bedtimes and being bus coordinator I was last to check in.  Waiting for me were two ladies traveling together who inquired if I would mind being their escort to the rally in the morning.  Seems they had a bit of trepidation about navigating the Metro and the accompanying crowds by themselves. I was flattered and honored that my presence would help ease their angst somewhat and gladly accepted their invitation.  We agreed to meet for breakfast in the AM.

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            We prayed before breakfast and I received a little about each of them and they small parts of me.  Their names are Helen Johnson and Beth Alday.  They are best friends from Macon, Georgia.  They attend the same Church there and they met at that Church years earlier.  They are mothers and wives who picked up and left their families to travel a thousand or so miles into the uncharted territory of a national protest because they knew in their heart of hearts that they had to do something.  It was the same for me and the other folk on our bus.  Deep down in the gut comes a conviction that something is wrong and if we do not stand up, nothing will have a chance to change.  If we turn our heads and walk away it will be our great sin.

            So the Church Ladies and I made our way to the metro and each train we boarded we met more simple real Americans from across our land.  We rode up and out onto the streets of our nation’s epicenter, the eye of the storm, citizens everywhere and it was awe inspiring.  It was akin to that natural wonder of the king salmon coming back from their  long journey into a seemingly infinite ocean to find their Source, swimming upstream against the current motivated only from a sense of purpose, a purpose of survival and natural right.

            At each intersection I could look down the blocks and see people moving in the step of liberty towards the Freedom Plaza staging area.  It was a cool overcast morning on September 12, 2009 with a slight breeze carrying the sounds of anticipation and hope. I remember experiencing goose bumps and eyes full of watery pride.  We all knew we had made the right choice and were grateful to be present. 

            As we arrived at the plaza we could hear the PA system to tell us where the stage was, but Helen, Beth and I stayed on the periphery.  I knew that the crowd would continue to grow and wanted to be in proximity of the parade route with an exit option just in case. The Church Ladies then began to don their custom made protest hats extracting the parts from their rolling survival supply bag they had brought.   I never got confirmation from them but these hats looked suspiciously like they might possibly have been worn at one of those Red Hat Society functions. 

            When complete the red hats had a cut-out tea pot attached to the top that read “We are Tea’d! Taxed Enough Already.” It did not take long before photographers were coming by to take their pictures.  Throughout the rest of the morning Helen and Beth continued to attract attention because of their creative costume.  I was proud to be their friend along for the ride.

            The walk down Pennsylvania Ave was an emotional experience with the majestic Capitol beckoning us.  I did not fully understand at the time just how little is done under that dome truly on the people’s behalf. I had flashback recognition of exactly where we were, of the TV images, the horse drawn caisson with the widow in black trailing behind coming down this same route we were walking. A reeling Nation mourned on that grey November Sunday in 1963.  I prayed that our dissent efforts now would be noticed.

            Our position in the march was in the first fifth of the column.  Because of the time we arrived at the staging area and where we positioned ourselves I was sure we were more to the front than to the middle.  Our walk along the extreme right side curb and sidewalk facing the Capital put us in a position when we reached the complex area to secure seating on the northside wall of the reflecting pool.  We could not have found a more precipitous spot.  The porta-potties were fifty yards away and we had preferred viewing of the continuing procession as it arrived into the determined destination.

            Although we could not see the stage on the steps of the Capitol we could hear clearly the presenters.  But this fact was not as important to us as was the witnessing of the masses in attendance.  The procession kept arriving for hours.  It was clear to me that this was a huge demonstration. It was proof that a significant number of Americans were opposed to the direction that the Obama Administration specifically and our Government generally was trying to take us.

            I instinctively knew that there would be no aerial view in news reports of this mass demonstration.  The government controls the skies over Washington DC and they would not allow proper perspective on this event.  It was certain as well that the complicit news media would not give the protest justified coverage.  I took a walk around the Capitol grounds as best I could and my experience says that there were between a quarter to half million people gathered there this day.

            One thing is for sure.  The people who were in attendance are normal everyday Americans that care about their Country.  They cherish their freedom and want future generations to have the same liberties.  The Church Ladies are the consummate example of everyday Americans exercising their freedom and enjoying their liberties.

            Later in the day we went our separate ways.  The red hat ones preferring to travel back to the hotel. Me, I wanted to walk the mall and take in the Washington Monument and the Lincoln Memorial.  In 1987 on my first trip to this great town I remember what a breathtakingly moving experience the Lincoln Memorial was for me. That place surely is sacred ground.  September 12, 2009 was winding down for me.  I remember a feeling of fulfillment and accomplishment as I walked into my hotel room.  I switched on the TV to see the news coverage. David Axelrod, one of Obama’s senior advisors was being interviewed. Asked about the march and he said, “We don’t know who these people are.”  I switched the TV off.

***

 Writer's note: To this day people like David Axelrod still don't know who we are.

Amen Sisters

Bradford Bosworth

August 19, 2016