William Thomas first introduced fanny
to brick on the White House sidewalk on June 3, 1981. His sign said,
"Wanted: Wisdom and Honesty." He's been there ever since, still
squatting, still wanting.
A few months after he began, he was joined by Concepcion Picciotto, who has remained similarly steadfast.
War is not over, but the peace protesters have won. Sort of. The oasis of green across Pennsylvania Avenue from the White House is theirs.
At some point a protest may become more than what it is about. It becomes a thing in itself. An institution. A monument.
Take Lafayette out of Lafayette Square -- the monumental statuary likeness of the Frenchman, with Colonial braid, big boots and a sword -- and hardly anyone would notice. (Hint: He's not the guy on the charger; that's Jackson).
But get rid of the shelter made of a battered patio umbrella, a weathered plastic tarp and those faded anti-nuke signs erected by Thomas and Picciotto?
It wouldn't be the same park.
Tourists from places like Beijing and Chicago would no longer flash peace signs for digital cameras. School groups would make one less stop. Tour-guide shticks would shrink by a sentence or two.
So fewer conversations, arguments and tears. Two less souls to share the space on cold days and nights with pigeons, squirrels and rooftop snipers.
A few months after he began, he was joined by Concepcion Picciotto, who has remained similarly steadfast.
War is not over, but the peace protesters have won. Sort of. The oasis of green across Pennsylvania Avenue from the White House is theirs.
At some point a protest may become more than what it is about. It becomes a thing in itself. An institution. A monument.
Take Lafayette out of Lafayette Square -- the monumental statuary likeness of the Frenchman, with Colonial braid, big boots and a sword -- and hardly anyone would notice. (Hint: He's not the guy on the charger; that's Jackson).
But get rid of the shelter made of a battered patio umbrella, a weathered plastic tarp and those faded anti-nuke signs erected by Thomas and Picciotto?
It wouldn't be the same park.
Tourists from places like Beijing and Chicago would no longer flash peace signs for digital cameras. School groups would make one less stop. Tour-guide shticks would shrink by a sentence or two.
So fewer conversations, arguments and tears. Two less souls to share the space on cold days and nights with pigeons, squirrels and rooftop snipers.
Today there are fewer conversations and arguments, but tonight as we held candles in vigil with Concepcion in Lafayette Park to remember Thomas, who died unexpectedly this morning, there were plenty of tears. She gave me a big hug and said, "we will keep going."
ntodd
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