19 October 1998: The Protest

I had received email informing me of a vigil/protest/political funeral tonight, starting at the Plaza and going down Fifth Avenue and ending at Madison Square Park for speeches. The email notice also noted that there was no permit for a street march, and that we could be arrested if we stepped off the sidewalk. So, I dusted off my Silence=Death t-shirt and wore it to work that day. The stared I got. I think people were surprised to see it, as they have really disappeared from the "scene" now for years. Ever since Clinton got elected, and AIDS deaths are down, the rage and anger abated.

It was interesting to see people's reactions to it, my t-shirt. I did notice one man, who works in my building, a cute-but-brooding psychopath, looked at the bright pink triangle and averted his eyes the minute he saw that I noticed him looking at me. It was more than just curiosity; there was real hostility there. Good.

Because a lot of people were away at one of our conferences, a lot of people at work were not there to see my political statement. Oh well. Poor timing.

I went with Byron and Walter to the march at 5 pm. There had to be at least 2000 people gathered there peacefully in the square in front of the Plaza Hotel. We didn't start moving until about 6:20 pm.

From the very onset, we were beseeched by women with bullhorns to take the streets, saying, "They cannot arrest all of you," as we were exhorted to pass the paddy wagons, since no one was getting arrested. There were lots of shouts of "Whose streets? Our streets!" but in my recollection, the crowd did not exactly take to this en masse. I do think a lot of people expect a more somber vigil like the other 99 around the country. The rage against homophobia was certainly justified, but I definitely got the feeling that here the agenda was being pushed, as opposed to the more peaceful vigils around the country, like the one my pal Mike in Lawrence, KS, was part of. (To read his account of that vigil and march, click here.

I was at the march for a total of an hour. Walter and I left the march at about 7 pm. We left just as the march was turning inexplicably onto 56th Street, which I took as a bad sign. We were near the back of the march, and we were told by the back marshalls to keep moving or we would get arrested. So Walter and I had to scamper over a huge, unsteady pile of cardboard to get off the street. Meanwhile, looking behind me, I saw the back marshalls being arrested, practically being tapped on the shoulders by the cops, like they were being told to leave a dance contest. As Walter and I walked down 53rd Street to the subway station, we saw that the march was crossing Sixth Avenue, near the Hilton, which was odd, since this was not the intended route.

I had to get to a meeting, and so I went. After the meeting was over, I headed toward Madison Square Park with two men from the meeting, to get to the uptown BMT train, and I was shocked to see that there were about 1000 cops blocking Broadway south of 23rd, with traffic only going down Fifth Avenue. My friends got on the train but I remained to see exactly what was happening, and what people who were there had to say.

It seems the police had kicked everyone out of the park. At the time I was there, they were blocking the streets so people who lived directly south of the park couldn't get home, and just before we got there, the police had closed access to the Broadway subway line at 23rd Street. Everyone, gay or straight, marcher or bystander, were completely outraged.

"If you think you don't live in a police state, look at that," one older man said, pointing to the horde of cops. I asked them if there were protesters behind them, because it looked like there were so many people down there, and he replied, "It's ALL COPS!" He was right. It was all cops in riot gear, at least 1000 of them. I had never seen anything like it in real life. Perhaps in one of the Planet of the Apes movies--the one that used Century City as its setting. The one in which Don Murray is the governor.

After a while I decided to go home. As I passed a bunch of cops, I heard them chuckling how "at least I get paid overtime for this" to which I grumbled somewhat loudly, as I went down the stairs, "Not that you deserve it."

On the platform there were only four cops, and on the train, none. Before the train arrived, I was talking to a group of a dozen protesters that were there, and I was starting to get details when a crazed man, who got onto our train car with us, started screaming, repeatedly, "Faggot die, faggot lie." After hearing that a dozen times, I was so sick of it, I told him to shut up already. So he directed the faggot comments to me directly. Of course, confronting him was a stupid thing to do, especially as he took off his watch, not wanting to ruin it while hitting me in the face or anything. Well, it was pretty scary, but I was prepared to "defend myself," also hoping that perhaps the group of a protesters on the train would be some comfort. No. When we got to 34th Street, they all fled to the next car and I followed them.

I admitted that I probably should have kept my mouth shut, and one of them said, "Oh, I was so glad you said something." So when I pressed the matter of there being a dozen of us and one of him, and he was apparently unarmed, they replied they were wiped out by the evening. Meanwhile, why were there no cops on the trains at all?

So I returned home pretty pissed off.

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Copyright (c) 1998, Seth J. Bookey, New York, NY 10021, sethbook@panix.com