It has been increasingly difficult to think about blogging with everything going on in the world. Honestly, I am overwhelmed. I am. My children are. My friends are. I know some of you are.
The other night while many cities erupted in violence, my town's local Black Lives Matter group held a funeral procession for George Floyd. They had announced it a couple of days before. It was to start at 7pm at the high school, travel a route throughout the town, and finish at the town's police station where there were to be speakers and a (socially distant) candlelight vigil. Residents were encouraged to watch or participate, and my daughter wanted to participate. So around 6:45 pm, she and I got into her car and headed toward the high school, which is only one mile from our house. She had made a Black Lives Matter sign, which she stuck in one of the windows.
There were lines of cars in all directions of the high school waiting to participate. We got a spot on line in the parking lot, but lines of traffic jammed up all the local streets. My son, who had been out on a "destination walk" as he calls it (where he drives to a location and walks there) had been on his way home and got stuck in the mess. He texted me and said it took him almost a half hour to go a quarter mile.
The procession started at 7pm as scheduled, but there were so many cars that we sat for almost an hour and a half before we started moving. There were that many people. During the time we waited, some people walked through the lot with signs, and when they did, everyone honked their horns. Most people had signs on their cars. I took some pics.
We finally started moving close to 8:30. Everyone honked horns during the procession. As we drove, people on the sidewalks waved, held up fists, and some had signs that just said, "thank you for coming."
I took some video here and there, which I'll post, but none of them do the procession any justice. I really wanted to watch and not concentrate on filming.
Starting out:
Participants. You can hear all the horns:
The line of cars goes on and on:
Some scenes throughout the town route. We got in on the honking:
The streets of town look empty. Normally this town is bustling at night, but since the pandemic, it has been very quiet like many other towns. We drove to where the candlelight vigil was being held, and I think that's where everyone in town was. It was packed. My daughter and I decided to just drive back home after that because we didn't want to take a chance being around so many people. It just didn't look like social distancing was possible. When we got home, it was almost 9:30.
The next day I had read that there were close to 400 cars in the procession.
We are lucky here. This town has had its share of racial unrest in the past, but now it is fair and welcoming, and our police are also. There was not one problem with the whole event. It was quite a different situation in the rest of the country. We came home from a unified event to find the rest of the country blowing up.
This morning I let the dog out for her usual run around, and I sat at my little garden table by the lilac bush. The blooms are just about done with only a few fresh flowers left. I talk to nature a lot. I'm sure people must think I'm crazy, but why wouldn't you talk to nature? I took a long sniff of one bloom then said, "thank you for coming." Then I thought about the signs I saw on the route saying those same words.
The other night while many cities erupted in violence, my town's local Black Lives Matter group held a funeral procession for George Floyd. They had announced it a couple of days before. It was to start at 7pm at the high school, travel a route throughout the town, and finish at the town's police station where there were to be speakers and a (socially distant) candlelight vigil. Residents were encouraged to watch or participate, and my daughter wanted to participate. So around 6:45 pm, she and I got into her car and headed toward the high school, which is only one mile from our house. She had made a Black Lives Matter sign, which she stuck in one of the windows.
There were lines of cars in all directions of the high school waiting to participate. We got a spot on line in the parking lot, but lines of traffic jammed up all the local streets. My son, who had been out on a "destination walk" as he calls it (where he drives to a location and walks there) had been on his way home and got stuck in the mess. He texted me and said it took him almost a half hour to go a quarter mile.
The procession started at 7pm as scheduled, but there were so many cars that we sat for almost an hour and a half before we started moving. There were that many people. During the time we waited, some people walked through the lot with signs, and when they did, everyone honked their horns. Most people had signs on their cars. I took some pics.
 |
| The line of cars that we were in |
We finally started moving close to 8:30. Everyone honked horns during the procession. As we drove, people on the sidewalks waved, held up fists, and some had signs that just said, "thank you for coming."
Starting out:
Participants. You can hear all the horns:
The line of cars goes on and on:
Some scenes throughout the town route. We got in on the honking:
The streets of town look empty. Normally this town is bustling at night, but since the pandemic, it has been very quiet like many other towns. We drove to where the candlelight vigil was being held, and I think that's where everyone in town was. It was packed. My daughter and I decided to just drive back home after that because we didn't want to take a chance being around so many people. It just didn't look like social distancing was possible. When we got home, it was almost 9:30.
The next day I had read that there were close to 400 cars in the procession.
We are lucky here. This town has had its share of racial unrest in the past, but now it is fair and welcoming, and our police are also. There was not one problem with the whole event. It was quite a different situation in the rest of the country. We came home from a unified event to find the rest of the country blowing up.
This morning I let the dog out for her usual run around, and I sat at my little garden table by the lilac bush. The blooms are just about done with only a few fresh flowers left. I talk to nature a lot. I'm sure people must think I'm crazy, but why wouldn't you talk to nature? I took a long sniff of one bloom then said, "thank you for coming." Then I thought about the signs I saw on the route saying those same words.
