One Voice

https://www.nytimes.com/2025/04/05/us/politics/anti-trump-protests-hands-off.html

("Mass Protests Across the Country Show Resistance to Trump")

We came with slogans in hand and resolve in our hearts. While the rain may have slightly muted our numbers it did not diminish our strength.

To my eye, as we gathered outside the town hall in this small community in western Massachusetts, we were maybe half a thousand strong. Throughout the nation we came together as one in groups like this. One voice. One purpose. One hope.

While the President was focused on his back swing and doubtless giving himself another mulligan, we had bigger concerns on our mind. Donald Trump has performed his best imitation of Nero for two and a half months now. America burning, a conflagration that threatens to engulf us all. It was not the hour for lesser pursuits.

I have been to protest rallies for many years. The feeling of common passion alive, electric. Our private contemplations and concerns, our angst and anger now on public display. No longer a whisper in the shadows. Now a shout in the middle of the town square.

I stood there with my camera, trying to capture the images. As if by doing so I could keep the moment alive in the days and months that will follow. An elixir for the inevitable times when the darkness seems without end.

I am often a glass half empty when I view the world in all its current turbulence. The damage Mr. Trump has inflicted without end. The pain he has caused without care. We stand on wobbly legs, wounded while his contemplation is merely whether he can get another nine in before lunch. The magnitude of his cruelty startling.

Are we now fully shaken from our lethargy? Was today our call to action or will its echoes soon fade?

As I left this corner, this speck of the universe, the sounds of protest followed me, carrying up the hill to my residence and far beyond. One voice resounding, heard across the land. Maybe even on that back nine.