A wedding party bustles about on the courthouse steps; photos are taken. Laughter and the bubbling voices of happy people float toward us. Three waiting for the signs to arrive. We each hold the two finger V in lieu of printed statements. I am ambivalent about this "peace sign"; elders tell me they view it as militant - Victory, is how they remember it from WWII. Yet, it seems the common currency of contemporary Americans to indicate Peace.
The van arrives bearing signs & flags. We are soon 5 and then we are 8. Three of our cadre celebrate this date as their birthday; one is here this day as are cookies in honor of the occasion. Conversation rises and falls. We notice at the half hour that the planetary angle has shifted sufficiently to cast a long shadow over the whole area where we stand. We've been clustering in the shade of the cherry trees to avoid the late summer heat.
A few loud but garbled shouts of hostility from people in passing cars are balanced by the abundant numbers of enthusiastic carloads of young men. Has the 10 year duration of slaughter, maiming and anguish finally tipped the broader opinion of what we once would have called the "draft age" population toward non-violence as a national policy?
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