We got to the sign-waving about 20 minutes late. But it was still going strong, as strong as 15 people without a leader can go, anyway. Leah took charge of the little rag-tag group and moved us from the middle of Town Square where we were invisible, to 6th Avenue where we were ignored. Still, we had a good time and we felt better about ourselves; we were MAKING A DIFFERENCE. A man said that someone should have alerted the press. He also said that my signs from Kinko's looked too professional and might give people the wrong idea that we were professional agitators (as if!). He meant it as a criticism, but I took it as a compliment. Since my handwriting was the despair of Mrs. Guinn, my first-grade teacher, and really achieved peak legibility in maybe the fifth grade, I told him that if I hand wrote my signs they wouldn't give anybody any idea at all except maybe that I had had a seizure while making it.
When we got home, I put a sign in the yard to commemorate the difference we had made.