Jokes, Music, and a Removable Leg: My Day at the Rally to Restore Sanity (and/or Fear) by Dorothy Bendel

I'm making my way to the National Mall from a parking lot on H Street. Being a DC resident, I've banked on the hunch that this side of the city will allow an easy access and exit point. So far I think I've made the right decision.

 

 

The clusters of rally supporters grow in number as I get closer to the main event. There are people handing out stickers and pamphlets at almost every street corner. Vote. Legalize Marijuana. A man is dressed as a surgeon, standing with a group of doctors who are holding signs expressing their support of health care reform. Everyone is smiling.

I have come with my clan: my husband and two children. My daughter is wearing a braided hairband and a piece sign on one cheek like she is on her way to Woodstock. She shouts approval at someone who is carrying a large PEACE sign. The political climate is simpler for a ten year old. There is only right and wrong. She strikes me as especially tuned in to why we are here.

 

We've made it to the mall. Some have chosen to camp out in any green space available, regardless of how far away they are from the main stage. The giant video screens make it easier. Some have camped out on the steps of the National Gallery. We attach ourselves to the long human chain that snakes through the crowd to see how close we can get. I'm surprised how well we do and I'm satisfied with where we end up, near a tree but within a decent view of two screens.

 

We have an hour to kill but time is flying by. We are pointing to all the signs we see, some clever and artistic, some just downright hilarious. No signs shouting "Let's Take Back America!" which always made me wonder where America went and only seemed a justifiable demand in the hands of a Native American. A man is telling his girlfriend how he regrets not bringing a sign. My husband offers to let him hold one of ours. The man accepts and holds our "I AM ONLY USING ALL CAPS TO CONVEY HOW GLAD I AM TO SEE YOU!" sign over his head, promptly returns it and says, "Thanks. Now I really feel like I've had the full experience."

 

The Roots take the stage. My two year old is feeling it and busts out his dance moves. A  rather petite woman looks up at the tree we are standing next to and begins to shimmy up the trunk. The first set of branches are quite a way up and there are no knobs or other footholds for her to take advantage of. The people standing with us have all reached up in an attempt to give her a boost but they are coming up short. It seems like the entire crowd has turned towards the perilous scene. They are chanting: Go! You can do it! A man removes his prosthetic leg, flips it upside down, and uses the foot to give her the last push she needs. The crowd cheers and claps.

 

By the time Jon Stewart takes the stage the trees are decorated with fearless souls like ornaments. The audience erupts at the sight of our master of ceremonies. I step up onto one of the tree's massive roots to get a better look. Stephen Colbert is not long behind and the two are bouncing off each other in perfect time. I make a mental note to catch up on their shows online since I don't have basic cable.

 

The three hour show goes by quickly and smoothly. Father Guido Sarducci kills it, even though I hear many of the younger attendees turn to others and ask who he is. I feel a little old. The medals handed out to special guests for fostering both reasonableness and fear are another highlight. I get choked up when I see the clips of how pitcher Armando Galarrage handled the bad-call-on-what-should-have-been-a-perfect-game incident. Tony Bennett performs one of the coolest versions of "America the Beautiful" in history.

 

Just before the farewell musical performance, Mr. Stewart asks the crowd for a moment to get a little more serious, to remind us all of why we are here and thank us for just showing up. His message is a simple one: a call for respect and civil discourse regardless of our differences. Extremists in the media will color this event anyway they want, in ways that are brashly untrue. They will find an angle, however far from the reality of this day it might be, and run with it. They will paint us all as mindless, naïve, unanimously far left, and perhaps not at all serious about our love of and commitment to this country just because we may use a little bit of humor to soften the anger that encircles us. They are wrong.

 

Mavis Staples is leading an energetic rendition of "I'll Take You There" as the crowd begins to inch out towards Pennsylvania Avenue. An older woman asks my son which part of the rally he liked best and tells him, "Now you can tell your children that you were here." She has already placed today in her own recollection of history. I wonder how people will remember this rally in ten or twenty years and decide that it is unfair to draw comparisons. Doing so is beside the point. The point is that thousands of people converged because they see the basic principles of civility becoming an endangered species. Yet, as Mr. Stewart said, "We live in hard times, not end times" and I can't help leaving feeling a little more hopeful.

(photography: Dorothy Bendel)