Cowboy Said

“I’ve been blessed!”

n October 23, 1997, I left with five other lady friends heading to the Million Woman March.  We drove and by the grace of God got there safely. The first thing on our agenda was to visit New York, New York. Once arriving in New York, we rode around, driving like the cabs.  We finally parked, went to a restaurant, watched two guys dancing on the corner, lost half of our group, ran across streets (in front of cars) to take pictures of Times Square.  I HAD A BALL!

Back at the restaurant, Pam was asked to audition for a part in a play as the wicked stepsister.  Can you imagine that?

Once we got back in the van, we planned on seeing the “Lady” (Statue of Liberty), but since it was dark I missed her.  We paid enough tolls to own a couple of bridges. Once we returned to the hotel, it was “lights out!”

The next morning, we got up, ate and were on our way to Philly. (By the way, our hotel was in Delaware somewhere.)  After sitting and waiting in traffic, we finally parked, bought stuff, walked, bought more stuff, and then we were on our way to Benjamin Parkway.

It seemed like a long way away, but once we started looking and walking, walking and looking at all the T-shirts, buttons, caps, scarves, African attire, canes, etc…we finally made it to our destination.

All the beautiful Black Women that surrounded the area…(some not Black)…I could feel love in the air…a sense of peacefulness.  We heard a couple of speakers who spoke about Unity, Bonding, Respect for one another, and how we as women are intelligent, talented and the strength of our families.

On the way back, we thought it was going to be a long walk, but there were things to see.  Trying to stay together was the task. Back at the van, I thought there was a sense of bonding, but you know “hens are going to cackle.” It didn't bother me.

After leaving the Parkway, we stopped at a sports bar to eat and wait for traffic to thin out.  We were on our way to visit Prim’s friend in New Jersey. (She acted like she didn’t want to be bothered, but that was ok with me.)  We found a hotel in New Jersey to spend our last night.

The next day on our way home whenever we stopped for gas and a Black woman saw us, she would speak and smile.  Red got me good by leaving before I got into the van. (Smile)

The sad part to me besides leaving was seeing the car accidents of people we knew had attended the March. Mrs. Barron and I agreed to talk at the beginning of our trip, but for some reason, she wasn’t saying too much to me after the first day. (Oh well)

I hope we can do this again.  I love you Red; I love you Prim; I love you Rabbit; I love you Mrs. Barron; I love you too Pam.  Truly, I've been blessed.  Thank you Rabbit. I have much love and respect for you as an African American Woman.

 

 

Pam Said

“I had a ball!”

I remember having a lot of fun.  I had my Canadian Mist and I really did not care what was going on around me.

The March was the Bomb!  All my Sisters acted like Sisters.

The one thing I learned was that the word “bitch” will not be in my vocabulary again (with the help of the Lord.)

P.S. Thank you Rabbit for thinking enough of me to ask me to go.    Pam

Hey Peggy,

Come home. I miss you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mama Said

 

“I Got Your Back!”

I enjoyed the trip and the march.  The thing that stands out the most for me is something I say all the time. “I got your back!”  When the speaker told everyone to put their hand on the person in front of them and say “I got your back” and one million women responded, it was one of the most moving things I have ever experienced. The young lady in front of me turned around and said, “I got your back too!”

New York was exciting also. I most of all want to thank Roberta for asking me to go and for keeping six different personalities under control.

 

Dorothy H. Barron

November 1, 1997

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Primmie Said

“Many who needed to be there, weren’t.”

 

The March was a once in a lifetime memory that will remain with me.  The Black women came together as one unit.  The estimated count is not as important as the way humanity and respect were shown toward each other.

No arguments or fighting were evident anywhere throughout the enormous crowd.  The beauty of the march extended from the clock on City Hall to Benjamin Franklin Parkway where a million Black women were present.  If you bumped into or stepped on someone’s foot, apologies and smiles were exchanged instead of insults and threats.

I feel that if non-profit support groups were formed or if those already formed would put forth more effort, some of these problems can be eliminated.

 

He Million Woman March was very much a success.  Unfortunately, many women that needed to be there, to see and to hear were not there to witness this memorable occasion.

Some of the topics addressed are being implemented now by our government and are affecting children as well as women.  Hopefully, we women who were present will be able to help these women out of these pitiful situations. For example, some women are with men who treat them worse than animals, but expect to be taken care of financially. Some women deny the proper care of their children to take care of these leeching men.

Drug addiction is one of the trouble areas of many women with children on AFDC.  These are the ones who need more help than some of the others; mainly because of the way some of these mothers are misusing their children in order to support their drug habits.

 

Red Said

“ I was a part of history!”

 

First of all, I had wanted to go to Philadelphia, PA to the Million Women March, but I knew that I was unable.  One night while sitting home alone, I received a phone call and was asked if I wanted to go to Philadelphia, PA to the Million Women March.  There were going to be six of us driving on a long trip.

We left after work that Thursday night.  No one had any sleep.  We took turns driving all night. After stopping for gas, food, etc., we finally got there Friday afternoon – 18 hours later – happy to be there, but still wondering if there were still going to be one million women and hoping we would make the march.

 

We went to New York Friday night. We had dinner and then walked to Times Square. We took pictures, talked, laughed and had a great time – seeing women and wondering if they were going to the March tomorrow.

 

When we finally got up the next morning, on our way to the March, I remember getting off the expressway on 13 & Vine and seeing all the people walking across the bridge.  I wondered if all these women I saw were heading the same way we were.  The traffic was very slow, but “I knew” and was very patient because of the place we were all going – hoping we would get a good parking place. We started walking, asking questions and hoping we were headed in the right direction.

 

When I first walked on to Benjamin Franklin Parkway, I looked down the street and I saw women as far as my eyes could see.  Young women, little girls, middle-aged women and yes older women.  Beautiful, Black, Women!

 

We began to walk down to see the speakers.  Along the way, we took more pictures; looked at all the stuff for sale, signed sheets, and T-shirts, and sang with some women who were singing “Stomp!”

I heard a man on the PA system say “Brothers, sons, fathers and/or husbands, if you’re wondering where your women are, they’re here at the Million Women March!”

 

We got to the stage in time to hear Winnie Mandela speak.  If we think about what was said and we all “had each other’s back,” this world would be a better place for our children’s children and us all.

 

I felt safe and warm all over like I was blessed to be able to go.  I also feel that I was blessed that I was asked to go.

Friends – I am blessed to have them.

            Thanks again, Red

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rabbit Said

 

“We can do anything we set our minds to do, if we work together!”

 

Our adventure started when we left Milwaukee on October 23, 1997 to attend the Million-Woman March in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.  We hit the highway Thursday night around 7pm, and there wasn’t a dull moment from that point on.  I was as excited as I’ve ever been in my life, and I could hear the excitement in the voices of my friends and family as we traveled across the country together. We laughed, talked, teased, and argued like a bunch of kids. And enjoyed every minute of it.  Several of us giggled about the overly concerned men folk we were traveling without. Although we under-stood their concern, we weren’t worried about a thing.  I personally believed that God intended for us to make this trip, and He would get us there and back.

 

It took us 17 hours to arrive at our hotel in Newark, Delaware.  I had figured it would take 13-14 hours to get to Philly.  But considering the rain, the stops for gas, food, and the 20 “piss” stops along the way, I’m surprised it didn’t take longer. We weren’t really in a hurry, and I enjoyed the company, the scenery, the mountains, and the tunnels. Cowboy was sick for most of the trip, so Red, Rose, and I did most of the driving. Cowboy drove the last 30 miles or so and then acted like she had “pulled us through again!”  Even she had to laugh about that one. I heard several of us thanking God for a safe arrival.

 

It took us about an hour to refresh ourselves; then we were on the road again, headed for New York City. The hotel clerk gave us excellent directions to Times Square in Manhattan and said it was a 2-hour drive on the turnpike.  I started out driving, but after a short while, the fatigue factor kicked in, and I couldn’t keep my eyes open. Cowboy took over and when I woke up we were in a line trying to pay another toll to get into the Lincoln Tunnel. It took about 30 minutes to finally get through, but I entertained myself, by looking at the NY skyline, the NY people, and those crazy-driving cabbies.

 

Once in Manhattan, we drove around looking for a gas station since we were riding on fumes, and really didn’t want to be stranded in NYC. The gas station attendant gave us directions to Times Square, but we got lost again anyway. When we finally made it to Times Square, we got a parking spot in the Broadway Theater district, which was also where we ate dinner at a steakhouse. The food was expensive, but delicious.

 

One of the first things I noticed once we got out of the van was the different accents of the people.  I had already noticed that there were plenty of different ethnic groups represented. I guess that’s why they call NY a “melting pot.”

 

We walked to Times Square and took in the sights. There were people and lights everywhere. I saw box-cart speakers, human robots, vendors, a few homeless people, a HUGE television screen attached to a building, policemen, newspaper stands, hustlers, streetwalkers, and even other tourists like us looking at everything with mouths open and taking pictures trying to capture the moment.

 

There were so many people that when Rose, Ma and I were separated from Red, Cowboy and Pam, we couldn’t find each other even though we were on the same corner. We eventually met back at the van and started back for the hotel. The bartender at the restaurant had given us directions to The Statue of Liberty and back to the New Jersey turnpike, and that was the original game plan.

However, it was raining and dark and we didn’t see it so we kept driving. We missed the NJ turnpike too, and ended up taking the scenic route back. Took forever! But we made it.

 

Except for the traffic, the trip to the march site was uneventful. Prim’s friend Evelyn gave us real good directions and told us to be prepared to walk. It took a long time to get off at our exit because the downtown streets had been blocked off and there were a lot of cars (most with out of state plates). I saw a lot of women crossing a viaduct all going in the same direction.

 

We found a parking lot, but no attendant, so we got to park for free (‘bout time we got a break.) We took pictures of this building with some beautiful pictures of women in various roles. Then we asked a strangely dressed man for directions to the convention center.  He told us to walk to the building with the clock (city hall) and turn right “You can’t miss it!”

 

On our walk to the clock, we bought T-shirts, sweatshirts, hats, etc. in case we didn’t have time to stop on our way back. Plus, they weren’t real expensive.

 

We reached the clock and turned right, but all I saw at the time were a few statues, some more vendors, and what I thought was a pretty normal crowd for a downtown area.  We walked through that little park, crossed the street, and took pictures by a welcome sign. We walked past a beautiful fountain and down a little pathway; then turned a corner and BAM!

 

As far as I could see in any direction, there were women, women, and more women! And they were all Black. They were different sizes, shapes, shades, and ages; but they were all Black.  I knew then that there were a million women there, and I hadn’t even seen them all yet. And we hadn’t even reached the place where the speakers were.

The things I remember most at that moment were the tingling sensation in my body, the electricity in the air, and the look on my mother’s face. I really wanted to cry, but I took a picture of Red climbing down from a wall instead. She had climbed up to try to get as wide a view as she could.

 

We asked a lady from New Jersey how to get to the area where the speakers were. She replied, “Go as far as you can see, look for the Art Museum, then look for the steps, and keep going as far as you can in the crowd.”

 

We started walking at 1:30.

Along the way, we stopped at various booths, bought buttons, signed shirts, sheets, and boards, and talked to women we didn’t know who responded in different accents: Jamaican, African, Spanish, Italian, French, Southern, Eastern, Western and plain old “from the hood!”

 

We passed some steps where a few women had started singing "Stomp!” Others joined them on the steps until they were full; the rest of us just sang along from the street.  Mama saw some people she knew, and some Commandos stopped us because of her Green Bay Packer jacket. We took pictures with them.

 

Considering how many women were there, the crowd was eerily quiet. I think that was because we were all listening to the speakers we couldn’t see over the PA system. I didn’t hear the word “bitch” or “mf” once. In fact, when a man who was selling something said, “shit,” all the women surrounding him turned and walked away in unison. We showed so much pride, respect, strength and unity in that one little move…

 

Well, we finally arrived at the podium just in time for Winnie Mandela’s speech. It was around 4:30 and she was 2 hours and 30 minutes late, but I don’t think anyone cared.

 

She and the other speakers addressed issues that are of vital importance to the quality of life Black women have all over the world. Discrimination, injustice, institutionalized racism, poverty, drugs, family values, missing fathers, dying young men, and an indifferent attitude among the powers that be were just some.  She also pointed out that just the fact that we had survived and were “here” proved that as a strong, determined, united body, we could do anything. To demonstrate that fact, we linked arms and spoke to strangers; we smiled and expressed love for one another; and we assured each other that “I got your back!”

 

That was a feeling I’ll never forget.

 

We started to work our way out through the crowd because the March was basically over and we had a long way to go to get back to the van.  We held on to each other’s jackets to keep from getting separated. It wasn’t until we cleared the crowd that I realized how sad, tired, cold, and hungry I was.

 

We stopped at a sports bar to eat, call Evelyn, and let the traffic thin out some. The March was on the news and our waitress said 2.6 million women had attended.

There was another group of Black women there also, and there was one loud, obnoxious, and extremely drunk woman who was having a stupid argument with some white men at the bar. When she tried to get her “sisters” to join in on her side, she was ignored. If she wasn’t at the March, she sure needed to be.

 

We visited Evelyn (briefly), found a motel, and got some much-needed rest. The next morning, following Phil’s directions we easily found the Pennsylvania turnpike and were on our way home.

 

Twice when we stopped for gas, we ran into a group of Detroit Black women also returning from the March. Just as we neared Toledo, we passed that same group again. One of their cars had been in an accident. I think that was the only part of our entire adventure that truly saddened us all.

 

Red drove through rain, sleet, snow, and hail. Mama navigated and God was our co-pilot, and we made it through the storm. Thank God for a safe return.

 

I’d like to thank you all very much for sharing this special time in my life with me. More than the speakers, more than the million or so others there, more than anything else, you made me feel so proud, happy and blessed to be a Black woman.

 

Love Always, Rabbit

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The 

 Million 

 

   Women

   March

 

 

October 25, 1997