Today was one of the most unusual days I have ever experienced. Little did I know as I made my way to the Metro station this morning to catch the train to downtown Los Angeles that today I would witness one of the
largest public demonstrations in U.S. history!
My first clue that something was amiss was when the train arrived at the Hollywood station. Our Metro system is widely used, but Saturday mornings usually have pretty light passenger volume. Not today. The train arrived completely packed with people. I ran to several different cars looking for space, but they were all full, so I had to dive in with the crowd in hope of getting to work on time.
The train was stuffed with mostly Latino people. They were smiling and engaging in polite conversation, and they were all wearing white T-shirts. Despite the cramped quarters, everyone was in a friendly mood and several people spoke to me reassuringly since they could see I was flabbergasted by the unusually large crowd, and I was the only gringo in sight.
"You OK, man?" one gentleman asked. "You look a little nauseous."
"What's going on?" I asked. "Are you all together?"
He said they were all going downtown to participate in the immigrant rights demonstration in downtown Los Angeles. I hadn't heard a thing about it.
"Where is the protest going to take place?" I asked him.
"We're gathering at Olympic and Broadway, and then marching down to city hall," he replied.
"So you'll be marching down Broadway?"
"Yeah, you can join us if you want," he offered with a smile revealing his gold-lined teeth.
"Oh, thanks. I wish I could, but I've got to get to work today," I said. Inside I was thinking "oh shit" because Broadway is where I work part time on the weekends giving
tours of downtown Los Angeles. I knew that any public demonstration on Broadway would definitely affect my tours.
We arrived at the next station to a large group of people who somehow squeezed onto the train with us. The crowds of people waiting on the station platforms got larger and larger at every station. There was simply no room left on the train for more people, and yet they kept crowding on again and again. Luckily everyone was in good spirits, but we were literally packed like sardines together. I couldn't even reach a hand bar so I had to lean on others to keep from falling when the train stopped and started. It was extremely uncomfortable. Beads of sweat began dripping from my face.
"What station are you all getting off at?" I desperately asked my Mexican friend.
"Pershing Square," was the answer. Great, I thought, that is my station as well.
There was no relief from the growing crowds at every train station. At one point it was so bad that the train conductor asked some people to get off and wait for the next train since the cars were so full some of the doors wouldn't close. It was like Tokyo at rush hour, and the train was running several minutes late because of the delays in getting people on and off at each stop. The conductor announced that
MTA was ordering more trains into immediate service to accommodate the high volume of passengers.
Finally, we arrived at our destination and everybody got off. I made my way upstairs out of the station and on to Broadway. Sure enough the street was closed to automobile traffic, but there were many Latino people in white shirts congregating. Many of them had banners and flyers with mottos in both Spanish and English, mostly supporting immigrant rights.
"Viva la raza!" someone yelled. Others were cheering things in Spanish I couldn't understand. I was like a complete stranger in my own town. One man said to me, "Good morning, sir." And another gave me a white t-shirt decorated with an American flag and the words "Stand and Salute" eblazoned across the front. "It's free!" he cheerfully explained.
I learned later that although the march had not been well publicized in the mainstream (i.e. white) media, the event had been heavily promoted by Spanish-language radio, and all participants were encouraged to wear white shirts as a sign of peace and solidarity.
Amazingly my morning Historic tour customers made it to the office on time. They were upbeat and very Anglo. The protest march was just officially getting underway as we started our tour. A horse-mounted officer blew his whistle and shouted, "Let's go!" The people started cheering. I took my guests around the neighborhood as best I could through the masses of people. It took some navigating and I had to cut a few things from the tour because of limited access, but we made it through and the folks had a great time.
After the tour, I struggled to make it back to our tour office at the
Bradbury Building at 3rd & Broadway. This was almost impossible because by now the crowds were peaking (over half a million people by some estimates) and not only had the march taken over Broadway, it actually was spilling over to side streets and parallel streets like Hill and Spring streets. These streets had not been closed to traffic, so there were hundreds of cars logjammed among the throngs of people who swarmed through the boulevards, effectively shutting down the streets. Horns were blaring, protesters were cheering, helicopters were roaring overhead.
I had to swim against the tide of humanity to make it across Broadway to the Bradbury building. I got as far as the sidewalk and then the momentum went against me and I got swept into the crowd. I couldn't get back to the Bradbury entrance way. Instead I navigated into the Sprint cell phone store at the corner of the building. All the store employees were standing at the windows watching awestruck the scene outside. "Are you OK?" one of them asked me.
"I'm fine thanks, but I'm trying to get to my office inside the Bradbrury building. I got cut off outside," I explained.
"No problem, man. We got a back entrance to the Bradbury building. I'll show you." And he took me through the employees-only area of the store and showed me out through their back door which led to the back door of my tour office just across the hallway. Actually, I knew of the rear entrance from the Sprint store, which is why I went there in the first place, hoping they would help me get inside.
I finally made it back to the office, never expecting the single tourist booked for my twelve o'clock Contemporary tour to actually show up, but he did. Fifteen minutes late, but he showed up. He was a nice man from Toronto, a retired television producer, and he actually offered to reschedule the tour for another day for my sake. But, being the true professional that I am (and a bit of a masochist), I said I would gladly give him the tour since he had worked so hard to get here.
Back out into the streets we went. This guy I gave a special tour since he was the only participant and in fact he had booked also for the ealier Historic tour but couldn't make it in time, so I gave him a hybrid tour including elements from both the Historic and Contemporary tours. He was a friendly fellow and we had a pleasant tour despite the continuing crowds downtown. He took literally hundreds of pictures and had to keep changing the memory cards for his camera. It was bit too much like Austin Powers' as the fashion photographer, if you know what I mean ("Yes, yes, yes! NO!")
By this time, the official march was starting to wind down so not only did we have the end of the "parade" following down Broadway, we had marchers going back in the opposite direction on Hill Street. Police were out in force trying to manage the crowd and the traffic, which was gridlocked beyond belief.
To add to the confusion, there were at least three different film crews trying to shoot downtown today. It's extremely common to see film crews downtown on the weekends shooting movies, TV shows, and commercials. You see their white trucks lined up along the curbs and they often close the sidewalk for filming. Today I'm sure those guys lost their whole day of shooting. Beside the crowds, the noise was unbelievable.
I left my customer at the
Cathedral at the conclusion of the second tour and made my way back to the Bradbury building. It was a lot easier this time since the herds were thinning, but there were still many, many people roaming the streets, cheering and waving American and Mexican flags. The street was a mess, littered with all kinds of paper and garbage.
Two hours later now, and things are starting to calm down. Broadway is open to traffic again, but I still hear sirens and helicopters buzzing around outside. I just hope the trains are running with extra capacity by the time I go home.
The picture above shows Broadway Street in Los Angeles where I was trying to give walking tours!
I still can't get over how many people there were in the streets. I've never seen anything like it before in my life.
P.S. MSNBC has an updated
news article about today's march. It delves a little deeper into the motivations behind the controversial and emotional immigration issue, which will likely top the agenda for this fall's congressional elections.
