More than 50 protesters stood at the Veteran's Memorial in Highland Park on a cold Thursday night two weeks ago, opposing President Bush's decision to send an additional 21,500 troops to Iraq. The vigil was just one of over 600 protests around the country that night, organized via the internet by MoveOn.org and other groups.
The protesters, a mix of young and old, mostly white, stood in the chilly night air carrying signs that said “No War, No Empire, No Occupation”, “Death is not liberation, stop the killing” and “No Bushit!”. Many carried candles flickering in paper cups. One young mom with a baby in a backpack had a sign pinned to her little one that said “Nursing for Peace.” She kept an eye on two more young children in a stroller while she carried a the most poignant sign of the evening “Who’s mother is crying tonight?”
A long flag draped coffin shaped box stood in the center. Two drummers sat to one side and hammered out an energetic rhythm.
Bob Rich, a neighbor who walked to the corner from his house nearby, said “The whole city should be here. Escalation will only make this war a bigger disaster.”
Brian Frobisher came from nearby Glassell Park to join the vigil. Asked why he was here, he said “I am totally frustrated. I want to know 'How much, how long Mr. Bush? At what point will you have had enough?'”
This is a busy corner of the city. Buses pull up every 10 minutes letting passengers on and off. Hundreds of cars zoom by in the 4 lanes of York and Figueroa. Many showed their support of the vigil by honking. The noise was continuous and deafening. The line of protesters spread along the sidewalk on both sides of the corner and for a while even across the street. A couple of police officers kept a discreet eye on us from their patrol car parked in front of the Senior Center.
The triangular island that makes up the Veteran’s Memorial is dominated by a 30-foot flagpole. It is planted in a pedestal of river rock that was once a working fountain. Now it’s a good place for the small gang of kids that have come to the vigil to jump off. Around the monument is an expanse of brick ringed with concrete benches. On warmer nights there are often homeless men sitting here. Sadly and ironically, they are almost all veterans.
Thirty or more homemade signs were spread out on the bricks that night, available for anyone to use. Some showed signs of much wear and tear. The people who organized this vigil are no strangers to this corner, or this struggle. They have been holding weekly peace vigils here every Sunday morning for almost four years. The first one was also in response to an internet call by MoveOn. It was held March 16th, 2003, the evening before the invasion of Iraq. Two of the founders of this vigil also go to another vigil in Eagle Rock every Saturday afternoon.
Nina Zvaleko is one of those founders. A northeast LA native, she has been involved with peace and justice movements for decades. She has a warm but no-nonsense approach as she flows through the crowd, making sure everyone signs her email list and knows about the regular weekly vigils.
"Sundays at 11:00 am to 1:30, right here, and Saturdays from 2:00 to 4:00 pm at the corner of Colorado and Eagle Rock. Exercize your rights or they might disappear!"
I asked her what keeps her going after 4 years, and she shrugged.
"Stupidity" she said with a wry laugh. "I wonder sometimes. I often ask the people who stop and talk to us -- 'Do you think we should be here?' 'Yes, yes, we need you here.' they say. But they can't fathom giving up their haircut or ballgame to be here themselves.”
“Tonight it feels good to hear people say 'We need to do this more often.' Four years ago I came to the weekly vigils so people could see that dissent was possible and important. So much of what we were saying then has since been shown to be true. There is a now growing healthy distrust of the government.”
There are over 30 other weekly peace vigils in Los Angeles. Most have been going for almost four years as well.
The weekly vigil has become part of Nina's routine. “It’s a ritual, a church kind of thing. That's the place in my life where I address certain issues."
"For me it's gone way beyond stopping the war in Iraq. Peak oil, global warming, depleted uranium.... I vigil because I don't know what else to do. I'm biding my time until the rest of the world catches up. Nothing will really change until more of us are willing to risk a lot more - we need to declare a state of emergency. Sometimes when I'm taking my daughter to a birthday party or grocery shopping I find the contrast between that and the death and destruction our country is wreaking so surreal I want to scream."
Amid all the noise and movement of the vigil and the normal street activity, Nina tries to makes eye contact with as many drivers going by as possible, especially the honkers. She says the people in the cars seem to really want to be acknowledged for their support.
“I guess my biggest motivation is that the vigils are an opportunity to interact with the unconverted, the REAL people, too tired to think about what’s going on in Iraq, or even, 'How do I separate my recycling from my garbage?' That’s why I’m here.”
Several Highland Park peace vigilers will be joining the big peace march this Saturday January 27th at noon. It starts in front of Democratic Party Headquarters, 9th and Figueroa in downtown Los Angeles and is sponsored by over 100 local peace and Justice organizations.
[Photos by Brian Frobisher]
