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We Don't Need No Stinkin' Press Passes

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I looked the officer in the eye and he seemed to be a reasonable man. I figured he was under orders to hold his ground between what may have been for him a classic rock and a hard place. He was still insisting that I had to move.

 

"Look," I told him. "You can throw me off this step if you want. But if you do that it's you who are breaking the law, not me. I'm not interfering with your job; you're interfering with me doing mine."

 

I had concluded I was right and it was a principle I was going to stand up for to the bitter end. I laughed inside because I had earlier declared to the VFP comrade also on the step with me that I had no intention of getting arrested. But there I was, unwilling to budge. If this guy needed to escalate, bring out the pepper spray or lock me up, I was ready.

 

The sergeant and his squad were on their best behavior and likely under strict orders not to muss the hair on any demonstrators head that day. They didn't want another wild pepper-spraying incident like the one that came to characterize the occupation in New York. So, the sergeant backed off and let me stay where I was. He sarcastically said, "Thanks for your cooperation" as he walked away.

 

I took a few more shots and, then, moved on. Maybe 20 minutes later I worked my way to the other side of the steps and climbed up on the ledge into a patch of flowers. I found myself right next to the same sergeant, who turned around and, sure enough, asked me, "Do you have a press pass?"

 

I laughed and said, "C'mon, we just went through that on the other side of the steps."

 

"Oh, was that you?" he asked. I shrugged. This time, he cracked a smile. "OK, you can stand there."

 

"Thanks," I said, appreciative of his new magnanimity. I made nice in return. "Look, you guys are doing a great job here," I said. And it was true. That day the police did their duty protecting the building and those inside without succumbing to a need to assault demonstrators. They remained detached and professional and did not take sides. Again, as working men and women one should not presume they're not in sympathy with the spirit and theme of such an occupation.

 

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I'm a 72-year-old American who served in Vietnam as a naive 19-year-old. From that moment on, I've been studying and re-thinking what US counter-insurgency war means. I live outside of Philadelphia, where I'm a writer, photographer and political (more...)
 

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