One day in November 1969

You had to be there.  Things were different in the '60s, when Washington served as a fulcrum for the forces that swirled around the divisive war in Vietnam.

It was a time when you wanted to expand yourself and listen to all ideas. It was a time of change, and we knew change was coming. I went because I felt I could be a part of change by marching.  The experience has had a lasting effect. It changed my life forever. It made me realize there was so much beyond my own little world.  It also changed my view of Govt officials ever since. 

 I was not a radical, I was in the middle. But I was certainly against the Vietnam War. I and other anti-war protesters by the tens of thousands converged on the nation's capital. I remember most the surging river of humanity that flowed past the White House. Like many in the march, it was my first national protest. I was amazed at the diversity of the participants, both young and old were in attendance.  It was a time in which there was a very great deal of turbulence on the one hand, but also a period in which citizenship took on the form of real action.  You see my American brothers were dying in Vietnam and "flower power" had been loosed throughout the land. Everyone very much understand the resistance and shock and desperation that was felt for the young men who were forced to go to Vietnam, as the draft had also become a major bone of contention between the generations, (My then boyfriend, now my husbands number was ironically #69) and this turned the war protest into a mass effort known simply as the Movement.  Then it happened tear gas was unleashed on the crowd; I and everyone around me became frightened. I kept thinking, Oh my God! this can't be real, but it was indeed happening . It was crazy, everything was boiling over, and I was scared out of my wits!   I was in shock that our National Leaders were doing this to their citizens.  From were I stood the march had been generally peaceful and I was shocked to say the least!  Following the Civil Rights tactic of non-violence, we were not prepared for a violent confrontation with the military police and Pentagon Guards armed with tear gas and rifle butts.   I ended up giving away my bandanas to the children that had came down with their families on buses from the churchs.  And I showed them how to place it over their eyes after soaking it in water from my canteen.

 I did not think that most people, myself included, thought the demonstrations were more than an existential gesture at the time.  But after reading the Pentagon Papers, it turned out the marches were very, very important in changing the direction of the war.

In hindsight I am very proud I was there,  To this day, I tell my children you have to fight for what you believe. And you have always got to question and fear the government.