March on Crystal City
Part 3
The march continues through the Pentagon’s parking lots along Boundary Channel Drive.
Preparing to go under I-395, where we departed Pentagon property.
Leaving the Pentagon, and leaving graffiti in our wake.
Leaving Pentagon property, and now heading south on Old Jefferson Davis Highway, this is where a number of us were like, okay, now what? After all, we had reached the Pentagon, and had passed completely through the property. Now we were on an isolated dusty two-lane road with nothing but dry grasses and fences on either side. I had been on this road once before when I had to drive to Pentagon City Mall for work and made a wrong turn in the process of getting there, and ending up on this little road. There’s literally nothing on this road, save for one warehouse. So where were we going? Obviously we were in the middle of nowhere, and thus had to go somewhere, if nothing else but to catch the Metro. I figured we were headed either to Pentagon City or Crystal City, though I had no idea which one, and I was guessing Pentagon City. I also really started to question the point of this routing, since literally no one except the marchers themselves saw us – a case of preaching to the choir if I’ve ever seen one.
And so we marched down this dusty road. A number of people in our black bloc, myself included, were starting to wear down by this point, as we had marched for about six miles by this point, with people carrying the bread, the shopping basket, and the chili all this way as well. Maddy looked a little worn out as well, to which I said, “You look like you could use a hug,” and gave her a quick hug right there in the street. That seemed to help a bit. It also felt like I’d picked up a rock in my left shoe at this point. I couldn’t stop to take care of it, so I attempted to shift it to an area where I wouldn’t feel it, and was apparently successful in doing so. It also had finally become warm enough to remove my hoodie, which I did, pulling it out from under my tied-on coat, and stuffing it in my bag. Thus I was down to shirt and jeans, black bandanna hanging down around my neck, and glasses on. After all, it was a warm day that started out cold, and so I had to adjust.
Marching down an empty stretch of Old Jefferson Davis Highway.
Mary stops to smile for a photo.
“Hey, Obama! We want change in Gaza!”
Upon reaching civilization again at the end of Old Jefferson Davis Highway, we found ourselves in Crystal City. Okay, sure. None of us in our black bloc were quite sure where we were going to end up, and I for one started imagining this march going on and on and on, roughly following Route 1 through Arlington, past Washington National Airport, and beyond to Alexandria. Thankfully, this would not be the case.
In Crystal City, our march followed Crystal Drive past many high-rise buildings. Many of these buildings were office buildings, and many of these buildings were filled with defense contractors. However, as Crystal City is very much a business district, which meant that like in 2007, we were shouting and protesting in front of office buildings that were mostly empty, even if they did house defense contractors inside – so who were we protesting to? However, there are some residential buildings in the mix, plus Crystal City is attempting to remake itself as a mixed-use neighborhood full of bars and restaurants, meaning we weren’t strictly preaching to the choir – there would be at least some non-participants for us to get our message out to.
Arriving in Crystal City.
From a balcony along our march route, a number of non-participants took a moment to watch our march pass by.
The march continues through the streets of Crystal City.
In Crystal City, ANSWER resumed its usual stop-and-go routine, and so everyone spent a few minutes waiting in the street.
One of the demonstrators from the original black bloc that met up in Farragut Square engaged in some general silliness for the camera while we waited.
“You must be burning up!” was my comment when seeing the outfit that this woman was wearing. At least around her head, she is wearing three layers: an open-face ski mask, a hooded sweatshirt, and a bandanna mask. Who knows how much she had on underneath the rest of the hoodie.
This woman was one of the participants in our original black bloc that met up at Farragut Square which, by now, seemed so long ago, but since we initially gathered, the temperature had risen considerably, and so while this much clothing might have been suitable early on, by now, it had to be swelteringly hot under all that. I understand why black blocs dress as they do, and the importance of what one wears when participating in a black bloc, but I was afraid she would overheat and pass out from heat exhaustion.
A photographer takes a moment to shoot a photo of the assembled crowd.
This woman is decked out from head to toe in various symbols representing the peace movement, from peace signs drawn on her face to flowers on the lining of her Chucks.
And after what turned out to be a longer-than-expected pause, we were underway again.
The old chant of, “The people, united, will never be defeated!” is slightly modified for this march, becoming, “The left, united, will never be defeated!”
And stopped again. Come on, ANSWER, what gives?
And once again underway, straight through to the end of our march route.
We knew we had reached the end of the march when we saw ANSWER’s sound truck parked in the street, and when we saw rows of buses lined up beyond that to carry demonstrators back home. With this wall of vehicles, I don’t think we were going any further. The march ended up in front of 2345 Crystal Drive, formerly known as Crystal Park 4. Interestingly enough, this building was very familiar to me, as I attended an American Management Association seminar in that building for work in December 2008. How strange to be back, and for a protest, no less!
Here, there were police lined up in riot gear. Additionally, Code Pink was set up in front of the building, near the street, holding at least two banners.
ANSWER’s sound truck sits parked in the street, indicating to us that we had reached the end of the march route.
Bringing the march to its conclusion. Maddy tires of my filming.
2345 Crystal Drive, where our march ended up, and where I had a work-related seminar last December.
Here is where we also finally ran into Livia, whom we had tried unsuccessfully to guide to the location of our black bloc much earlier in the day. Having finally finished the march, Livia smiled, and then made a face for the camera.
A few people shouted through bullhorns.
We also spotted two people who we believed to be potential police agents provocateurs. These two individuals were dressed in something resembling full black bloc, but were behind police lines, where real black bloc demonstrators would be prohibited from going. Additionally, the gentleman to the right appeared to be listening to something through an earpiece of some sort. Either way, I think it’s highly despicable, and indicates bad faith on the part of the police.
After having been marching more or less continuously for more than eight miles, the group that had originally gathered for the black bloc leaving from Farragut Square finally got a chance to sit down and chill out for a while.
Looking to see if there was a cause to what felt like a blister on my left foot, I was surprised to see that I had blown out the sole on my left shoe! That rock I thought I’d picked up earlier must have punched a hole right through the bottom of the shoe. I admit that these shoes were very well-loved, but I didn’t expect to go right through the sole.
Photographers were all over, set on capturing the moment for all to see.
The crowd at the end of the march route in Crystal City.
Former DAWN activist David Barrows, holding a World Can’t Wait sign.
Code Pink demonstrators hold up multiple banners.
A masked demonstrator poses for a photo in front of the cops.
Meanwhile, the Virginia State Police (above) and local police (below), in full riot gear, formed a line preventing movement towards the buildings. And despite my best attempts to get some of them to smile, they maintained their poker faces.
A masked demonstrator sits on the sidewalk. The mask hides much of her expression, but one has to wonder what she’s thinking about in these photos…
Unfortunately, most of us, particularly those of us in the black bloc that met up in Farragut Square at 10:00 that morning, were in no condition to appreciate the activities at the end of the march, let alone participate in them. It was a quarter past 3:00 PM, meaning that aside from some very brief pauses, we had been on our feet and marching, more or less continuously, for more than four hours, and covered roughly 8¼ miles of ground during that time. That comes down to 4¾ in our independent black bloc and 3½ with the mainstream march, and all of it on foot. No wonder we were tired!
After a while, people started to pack it in. Marchers from out of town were starting to load onto their buses, and those of us who were from the local area were starting to make moves towards the Metro. I went with Marja, with whom I’d demonstrated in DC before, to an entrance to the Crystal City Underground in order to go back towards the Metro. Jeff had mentioned that a few people were going to take Metro back to Dupont Circle to finally have that picnic that they tried to have earlier, but we declined. We were spent. Once in the Underground (pardon, “Crystal City Shops“), we found a place to sit for a few minutes, coming to rest at a nearby McDonald’s.
There, I finally got to use the restroom and change my shoes. Unlike most protest marches, I brought an extra pair of shoes with me – my black flip flops – with the intention of changing into them after the march was over. See, my red Chucks were just about at the end of their useful life. They had holes in them in various points (including a long tear along the outside edge of the right shoe), the soles were worn smooth, and, as it turned out, the rock I’d possibly caught earlier had punched a hole through the bottom of my left shoe. I had ordered and received a new pair of green Chucks the week before, and so with those in my possession, the red Chucks had only two uses left in them – Funk the War, and the ANSWER march. I considered it suitable to do this march in the old shoes, since first of all, a protest march is not the way to break in new shoes. Secondly, the 2007 Pentagon march was those old shoes’ first protest, and therefore it was somewhat fitting to close the book on these shoes with another Pentagon march. And with the march now finished, after I peeled the shoes off, I basically chucked the Chucks, right then and there, depositing them in the trash can at the McDonald’s. Trust me, I was ready to ditch my old Chucks, and the flip flops felt really good by comparison.
Just how worn out were these shoes? You decide…
After spending a little while cooling off at the McDonald’s, Marja and I continued on our way to the Metro. Getting up, I commented, “My legs feel like gummy. Gummy, gummy, gummy.” Seriously, my legs felt like Jell-O, if such a thing is possible, but somehow I managed to walk again. On the way, I got to do something I don’t do so much anymore with pictures – I got to be a fire alarm geek, photographing the new fire alarms in the Crystal City Underground. The old big Edwards pulls and the bells are gone, having been replaced with modern Siemens pulls, and Faraday horns.
No more giant Edwards pull stations and bells in Crystal City, as the system has been replaced by a more modern Siemens system.
When I last came through here in December, this mirror had been flanked by pull stations on both sides, with the Simplex pull on the left as seen here, and a Gamewell “full moon” pull station on the right, presumably because two fire alarm systems were coming together at that location. Now, however, the Gamewell pull has been removed, and the hole has been plated over.
Reaching the Metro, we spotted an advertisement for the Military Officers Association of America. It seemed that anti-war demonstrators had already gotten their hands on it and altered it to their liking, and the results were kind of lulzy if nothing else. We were dead tired, and so I think lulz were all we could get out of it at that point.
Metro advertisement for the Military Officers Association of America at Crystal City station, after anti-war protesters had their way with it.
And at last, we made it to Crystal City station. And it’s like I’ve said before – once you go into the Metro, it’s over, and there’s no going back. Once you catch the train, the protest is over, as you and everyone else dissolve back into the general population once again. But in completing the protest as our black bloc did, we put a lot of miles on our shoes, we protested capitalism, elitism, two wars, and war profiteers, we got our message out to the general public, and we had tremendous fun in doing so. And when you add the fact that this time around, there were more anti-war protesters and far less counter-protesters, I would say that the tide has turned on this war, as we told President Barack Obama in no uncertain terms to finish what George W. Bush had started, and end the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.