The following report was written primarily by Kathryn Gordon:
Kids came selling MnMs, dad trailing behind with a red rose. I said no, thanks, baby, to a boy of 5 or so, although I was hungry. Marylou, who came with her two daughters, one of them in a jogging stroller, let them have some.
How many of the passersby were hungry? Certainly some of the homeless people were, the lone stragglers. A very much higher percentage of them than of anyone else looked at us, thought about us, came to the table to look at or take the literature. No, not asking for money. Hungry.
Then a guy came who seemed really crazy. I could see from a mile away that he was trouble, and that we'd attract him. He had no front teeth, top or bottom, wild eyes, a dirty down coat, a long young, white face. He dropped his coat and aimed a karate pose at 3 Asian tourists, shouting "Show me a movie!" They turned, embarassed and a little afraid. Then he came to us. I was morbidly drawn to study his mouth — big gaps, top and bottom, and a lower lip that seemed about to fall down and out too, from loneliness. Wild manic eyes and sharp, arched eyebrows.
Marcelle came forward to offer him some literature. He stood before John's sign that says Pray for Peace in the World and yelled something like — you want me to pray — I'll pray. Thereupon he knelt and raised his long arms.
Jorge engaged the guy, talked with him, walked with him. Quickly, once, the man darted forward and kissed him on the lips. He shouted that he was God, superman, and a candidate for mayor. "Do I have a backer?" he called, holding up the sign he'd taken from Jorge. "If I have just one backer..." Contrasted with us standing still and tourists rushing past, his body movements, voice and manic energy struck me as more vibrant, creative. In the movement of his body he mimed flashes of American culture — the politician on a stump, the '60s protester, the pugilist, the beggar, the trickster.
The park rangers came, asking if things were okay. He seemed a little intimidated and asked for two dollars, so that he could get home, as if trying to strike a compromise, but he forgot the matter. After pacing in front of us and negotiating his retreat with the rangers, he remembered: he wanted the money. As Jorge was trying to give it to him he spotted a five dollar bill and started yelling, in a demanding way, that Jorge give it to him. Jorge did. He then turned back to us holding the bill high in his right hand, yelling in triumph, "He's a fool! Nobody gives five dollars these days." Then he followed a group of young tourists into the pavilion.
Three US Park Service Guards escorted him out. With a bike and some brusqueness the least stocky of the 3 park guards pushed our interlocutor out onto Market Street. He seemed a bit cowed then, but came back a few minutes later. "I've been trained at Ft. Benning, Georgia," he shouted at one point, and I believed him, could see him a little younger with his wild hair buzzed and his teeth all there. Some of what he shouted sounded like quotes from a drill seargent. "Do - you - understand - me?!" at the top of his lungs. Who can say how far the damage to and from one innocent boy trained at Ft. Benning, Georgia, could go?
Or maybe he wasn't trained there at all, just heard of it, or had an uncle trained there; maybe I just want it to be so, so as to make a point: oh how bad militarism is.
But the children of Iraq have already made that point, haven't they?
We debriefed all this — what if ... there are guns, many guns, and many damaged angry people. A size large youngish man sticking his whole head out an SUV to shout, "You suck!" And the week before a woman crossing the street to yell at us, "Do you know how stupid you people look?" I heard in her voice another's voice, a teacher's, a mother's. The ripples of violence. What or who will be the shore where they can break, finished?
We were six adults, and a toddler in a jogging stroller and a girl of about ten eating peanut MnM's.
BACKGROUND INFORMATION ON THE
Independence Mall Vigil for PeacePlease join us at our weekly prayer vigils for peace in the world, held in front of the Liberty Bell on Market St. between 5th and 6th, every Sunday from 4 to 5 PM. For more information, contact cityquake@aol.com.
In our reports, participants share their experiences of the prayer vigils and explore beliefs related to their participation. Reports reflect the experience of each author and do not necessarily represent the beliefs or practice of all vigil participants. We welcome your responses, which are forwarded to the individual authors (when possible). We sometimes include part of a response in a future report, unless you ask us not to.
It is meaningful to us that you share in the vigils by reading these reports and in other ways, such as joining us in prayer.
Last modified: Wednesday, February 18, 2004 at 08:18 AM