By Born Dorn
At 9:30 the No. 7 bus driver stopped for us even though he’d lighted the “Out of Service” banner. He told us with a smile “room for two more.” Passengers were butt to butt and belly to belly. A woman said she loved my hat: I’d cut out the letter N and O, for NO, and taped them to the red baseball cap I hadn’t been wearing lately out of fear I’d be considered a TrumpLump.
By the time we’d arrived at Broadway at the 12th Ave. Transit Center crowds on foot were already heading toward the Civic Center. Cars and buses could only inch along beleaguered Broadway. So we jumped off the bus at 4th Ave. and headed north to B St.
We went over chains at parking lots, and squeezed through 5-inch gaps between walls and fence posts in order to get closer to the main crowd — we were probably 200 or 300 feet from the speakers’ stand. We couldn’t see them, so it’s impossible to say how far away we were from the center. Looking south on 2nd Ave. we could see the crowd on Broadway couldn’t move.
I asked a cop how many the department estimated. 25,000. In San Diego, it’s safe to simply double the numbers of lefty crowds estimated by officials of the city. 50,000 may be low. As we left a little after 11 am (because we couldn’t squeeze our way to the Federal Courthouse) more people were arriving.
My favorite sign: Keep Your Rosaries off my Ovaries. Others:
The Public Face of Love is Justice (attributed to Cornel West); Respeta mi Existencia o Espera mi Resistencia (trans. Respect my Existence or Expect my Resistance); Tod@s Somos Un@. The young woman carrying that last message conceded it leaned toward feminism but said, “This way it can be seen both ways.” We’re all one.
Going home, we saw the trollies were stopped and out of service at 5th Ave and C St. and the buses that normally travel north or south on 5th or 6th. had been rerouted by the unintentional blockade. People … just… wanted… to be… somewhere near sanity.
Make my estimate 60,000. And that may be low.
— Terry Bunting (@terrybunt) January 21, 2017