Today was a beautiful sunny fall day in Pittsburgh. The march started at the corner of Beechwood Blvd. and Forbes Ave. — about one-half mile from the Tree of Life Synagogue where the congregants were murdered. I live in Pittsburgh, about another half-mile on the other side of Tree of Life. Walking to the rally I arrived at Wilkins Avenue and found it had been secured by police. The synagogue was just a block away — the route I’d followed put me inside the secure area. There was a huge SWAT vehicle in front of the synagogue. Three police officers directed me away from the synagogue. Along Wilkins I stopped to photograph one of the many impromptu memorials that are now all over the area.
(More — and _many_ pictures — below the break.)
Here is the view looking up Wilkins towards the Synagogue. The police were calm, friendly, and helpful throughout.
The thing in the middle distance that looks almost like a building is the huge SWAT vehicle in front of Tree of Life. The police car in the foreground is blocking traffic and re-routing pedestrians. The pedestrians on the sidewalk in the middle distance, like me, entered the off-limits area from a side street and were directed out. This residential area is one of Pittsburgh’s most pleasant.
I made my way to the starting point of the march. There were police at every intersection. I arrived about 5 minutes late, but there was no sense anything was happening soon. Organizers and police instructed marchers to group behind barriers set up across Beechwood Blvd. I couldn’t guess the size of the crowd — the hill holding them sloped down and away — nor did I get a sense of the mood. The police here were busy handling the traffic which they were redirecting in ways that the drivers did not find helpful.
Squirrel Hill is, if you haven’t heard, an amazing community. It represents one slice of the best of America: tolerant, wise, self-possessed, industrious. Politically it is predominantly progressive, liberal, and Democratic. All of that applies — in general — to all of Pittsburgh. Pittsburghers are independent, proud, no-bullshit, “let’s figure out how to do this and get it done” people. They hold middle-class values strongly: moderation, tolerance, education, thrift, minding your own business, looking after your neighbors. They have little feel for fashion in clothes, and no need for it in politics. Here are a few waiting for the march to start:
Of course, the press was there as well:
We were instructed which direction to head. The march was lead by people holding banners with some of the text of the open letter to Mr. Trump — signed by tens of thousands — that Bend The Arc had published. The marchers began to sing a Hebrew song/prayer. It sounded like a lament. It was sung and re-sung during the entire march. The effect was moving and somber.
Once the marchers started moving, I was able to estimate the size of the crowd: about 2,000. Many carried signs:
Minutes went by as the marchers passed the steep front yard I’d climbed to take pictures. (A volunteer with the march organizers: “Please keep the sidewalk clear, but you are free to stand on the hill and in the yard. The owner has given full permission for marchers to be there.”) I fell in behind the last of marchers coming around the corner. Several police cars with lights flashing behind us marked the end of our ten-abreast crowd. We marched, we turned and headed towards the synagogue, but stopped after a couple of blocks. Word came down the line: “Turn your backs,” and then “Take a knee”. We didn’t know what was happening — and I couldn’t get any info from my cell phone/computer — but it wasn’t hard to figure that Mr. Trump or one of his entourage had, in fact, and against the wishes of the families of the murdered and the rabbis at the synagogue (one had welcomed Mr. Trump and then, after hearing from his congregants, rescinded his welcome), arrived at the synagogue. Pittsburgh turned its back on Mr. Trump (or his representatives); we knelt in the street until he/they were gone.
We marched a couple more blocks and stopped at an intersection just two blocks from Tree of Life. There, a shortened Jewish memorial service was held: a prayer, a cutting of a black ribbon, the holding aloft of pieces of cut black cloth (which many marchers had come with) while a prayer is sung.
After that the march turned onto a street parallel to Wilkins. It was soon to end. I took my sign and walked towards home, which included several blocks along 5th Avenue with its slowly-diminishing rush-hour traffic. Many drivers honked approval. Many more waved. Some rolled down their windows and gave me a thumbs-up. For a brief while, our world felt OK.
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