Right now it seemed so long ago, but I remember well
We all became a family to stop nuclear hell.
It started off in Griffith Park with songs by Holly Near.
On March the first, we took our steps; we said goodbye to fear.
Yet I remember rumors of bankruptcy and doom.
Some folks decided foolishly in isolated rooms
To spend it all so lavishly what we had raised for peace.
In Barstow we were told at last the march would have to cease.
Surviving hypothermia, camped out at Power Line Road,
We heard all sorts of fear mongers who said, "Give up your load!"
Most went back home to families, but our four hundred stayed.
Despite the repossession trucks we still were not afraid.
We soon camped out in Barstow, reorganized and strong.
With humor, love and hope for peace we chose to carry on.
Four hundred strong we made a vow to make it all the way.
Just like the phoenix we arose and did not fall away.
We almost did not make it to Washington, DC,
But somehow fate was on our side; we marched to history.
Our ranks were strong, we walked with hope along the scenic roads.
The trucks donated ran ahead and carried all our loads.
Right at Nevada's western line the sandstorms whipped around.
Some tried their luck on quarter slots or Shakespeare-in-the-round.
We shared collective visions while onlookers just stared.
Some drove right by and taunted, "March in Russia if you dare!"
It wasn't all such fun and games--in Utah true love died;
Two of us gone by accident, for miles we mourned and cried.
We went through cities small and large and filled up coffee shops.
Some marchers straggled, some kept pace past heartland's golden crops.
Our highest elevation, we walked up Loveland Pass.
While some could not walk through thinned air, we reached the top at last.
It wasn't quite what we'd expect, considering our dreams.
We coalesced around our goal despite warmongers' schemes.
Through Denver, Colorado; across the prairies vast,
We made it to Chicago and started to amass.
New volunteers had joined with us, inspired by our throng.
Some marchers tried to turn them back but still they came along.
From there we went through the midwest and on to Ohio.
In Cleveland we inspired more to rock the status quo.
We swelled their streets for one great march that mirrored early plans
Of a five-thousand person march to stretch from land to land.
The closer to our goal we got, we sat at Ram Dass' feet.
Pete Seeger serenaded us and Yoko came to greet.
Our cast of visitors was grand, including Jackson Browne
who went to us in Iowa, passed cookies all around.
We started as a whisper and ended as a roar,
Although in retrospection we couldn't stop all war.
And yet we all decided to make it to DC;
In grand New York we made the news and spoke out on TV.
But when our destination became reality,
Pneumonia slowed some marchers down, and one of them was me.
I ended up in Silver Spring, sad that I'd missed the goal,
And heard news of the Great Peace March on Public Radio.
We almost never made it to Washington, DC;
But somehow fate was on our side, we lived our destiny.
Four hundred strong we marched along to give a chanceto peace.
We sang and walked and gave our all to make the warheads cease.
Although our world's a fright'ning place of terrorism acts,
Still in my heart beats out the hope of never-ending pax.
It started as a shimmer and soon became a tide;
And still I feel the bravery that will not let me hide.
It started big and dwindled down but never went away.
Those twenty years still live in me up to this very day.
Our family is 'round the world and still we did agree
That what we wanted was a chance to set our planet free.
© 2006 Cynthia Bage
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Comments: 8
I really want to dedicate this poem to David Mixner, whose idea it was to have the GPM in the first place. Were it not for his vision (as grand as it was) I would not have been there from the beginning. Books have been written by marchers, but they never were "bestsellers."
In this time and place, it's truly important to remember that we can touch the lives of others just by marching.
Great job Cynthia.