Relative Something

By the end of the day yesterday, we were seeing reports of the massive gatherings that happened in cities across the country, and contemplated what it would have been like to be in a gathering that large. At the same time, we highly value the chance to contribute our energies to smaller communities of rural citizens.

We are only up at our lake place in Hayward, WI, for the weekend, and didn’t have a lot of information about the local plans for No Kings Day. The pin on the location map put it at what I thought was an odd intersection of highways 27 and 63.

When we arrived at a spot to park our car, there was no hint of any atypical activity anywhere. Undaunted, Cyndie was ready to forge ahead no matter what. Then a car pulled up with two women who asked if we were there for the protest. That made four of us, and we walked to the corner and stood tall with signs, quickly receiving supportive honks from passersby.

In minutes, five others walked up, and shortly after that, the group doubled in size again. Checking with each other, we found that everyone was visiting from Minnesota, which brought a laugh. Soon, we learned that Hwy 27 travels along Hwy 63 for a few blocks and then turns to the east. The locals were all at that intersection, roughly three blocks to the south of us.

An intersection that made a lot more sense.

The hosts of this gathering were reporting headcounts of 500 early on and then 1200 not long after, in a city with a population of around 2600. I appreciated the chance to visit with someone who has been living just outside town for years after retiring and moving from a suburb of Chicago. The number of participants in the protest was very impressive to them.

The gathering was on all four corners of the intersection and stretched a long way down each of the blocks, generating an exciting amount of honking from like-minded supporters. Only occasionally did we receive scowls and middle finger gestures.

Glancing behind me at one spot, I noticed a guy sitting on a cement planter and wearing a red MAGA cap, silently holding a small sign that said, “God – Guns – & – Trump.” Eventually, he stood up but remained silent, and the people all around behaved as if they had no clue he was there.

I tried to surreptitiously snap a photo of his sign, though it meant the man remained out of sight behind the folks in the foreground.

It wasn’t a massive group we stood with in the small town, but there was no less energetic fervor shared in objection to all the offensive actions being enacted by the current administration.

It was pretty special to see the quiet little vacation community so vibrantly engaged in participating in the lawful, peaceful protest. Gosh darn, I wish all those people who didn’t vote in the last Presidential election had exercised that right when they had the chance.

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