A full and fulfilling day. Left for Trenton early, as I had decided to stop in to see old colleagues at Rider before the rally. Got to Lawrenceville about 10:30, parked, and headed for Human Resources. What? The door was locked--oh, darn, it was the last day of Spring Break and nobody was on campus. Stopped over at Security, thinking my old pal, Chief Vickie Weaver, might be there, but she was off, too. Left her a note.
It's a good thing I gave myself plenty of time to get to the Statehouse, as the (about) 15-minute trip took me almost an hour. There's no sense in recording the details, but suffice it to say I kept going in the wrong direction and having to stop at various stores to correct. Got there before it started, though, so no problem.
I was able to park in a garage about a block away and, as it was a gloriously warm and sunny day, was glad to walk to the Statehouse. I had forgotten how pleasant Trenton is in this area. There are stately old row houses--judging by the architecture, built in the early 18th century--and interesting newer buildings in this, Jersey's capitol city. Seeing the traffic on the streets and the state workers strolling to lunch in shirt sleeves, I sensed a general air of purpose and prosperity--entirely bogus, I'm afraid, as Jersey is as broke as California.
The rally marking the seventh anniversary of our vicious aggression in Iraq, lasted an hour and included an impassioned talk by Rev. Moore, who heads up The Coalition For Peace Action. An Iraqi/U.S. citizen, an Iraq war vet, and a student from the Princeton Theological Seminary also spoke, and there was guitar and flute music and sing-alongs. Several other seminarians were there, holding a banner, and so was a delegation of elderly women from upstate. A man in an orange jumpsuit held a large sign deploring torture and two others had a flag with a peace sign in the stars field. However, I counted only 37 people there, a discouraging number considering how many would gather to view an Air Force flyby.
I was pleased to be hailed by an old acquaintance, Irene Goldman, whose husband had been state treasurer about 20 years ago. Irene's son and mine had been friends. We caught up with each other's lives after the rally, then left.
I drove back to Ewing and went to my old haunts, then to the cemetery where I ate the lunch I had brought. Felt a bit like a ghost who came back myself, as I didn't see anyone I know and the place is changed a lot.
Got home to find a welcome e-mail from Dee G., who owns the house in which I grew up, and a phone message from Marge. Got back to both.
After dinner, I took my War Made Easy DVD, a bag of whole grain pretzels, and a bottle of White Zin and went three doors down to the R.'s. We had a good, convivial visit as we viewed the movie, drank our wine, and discussed our mutual peace-promoting beliefs.
Home about 9:00.