I love a parade. Small town parades are the best. They are full of heart and soul.
Military parades in Washington DC are not unprecedented. But, in my humble opinion, they really are not a very good idea. This, coming from an Army brat. First and foremost, previous military parades have been held to celebrate military victories or when danger was imminent. The parades were not just an exercise in stroking egos.
According to sources like the Washington Post, the NY Times, and the federal budget, the last military parade in Washington DC was in June of 1991 and celebrated the liberation of Kuwait and the defeat of Hussein’s army in Desert Storm when George HW was President. It deployed 8,800 enlisted soldiers watched by nearly a million Americans who showed up for the spectacle. There were tanks, fighting vehicles, missile launchers, fighter jets, and fireworks. The pavement on Constitution Avenue was deeply rutted by the 67-ton tanks. The parade generated over a million pounds of garbage, cost over $12 million and left an egregious impact on public and private assets. Like the Mar a Lago trips, we can’t afford a parade if we can’t solve the problem of our homeless veterans.
Celebrate the social, economic, cultural and political achievement of women. Celebrate all women around the globe and know that they will celebrate you and continue to do their best to right wrongs, uphold justice, save the planet, and speak the truth.
Despite hail, snow, and North winds buffeting us in the face, we had a successful 2nd Women’s March in Unalaska with a focus on “Power to the Polls”. We changed our route this year to be more inclusive of various types of marchers. Our route was on more level ground with only one small hill, and we ended our march indoors where marchers could warm up immediately. There was nothing fancy about our event. We marched, we ate deliciously shared dishes, and we were so damn happy to have two wonderful women who registered people to vote and/or updated voter information.
I have no pictures of my own to share. I left my camera in the car. My worry about my 88 year old mother getting cold and wearing herself out was for naught. She pretty much led the march, marching along with her great-grandson and his teenage friends. We even had to slow her down so that parents with toddlers had a chance to catch up.
I think the best part of the march for me was the fact that in our group of about 55 hardy souls braving winter Aleutian winds, between 10-15 were teenagers; our up and coming voters. It actually humbled me a bit to bear witness to the fact that they got up on a Sunday morning and participated to the fullest. I am in awe.