I went to Pioneer Courthouse Square at lunch today because I had heard that there would be a memorial service there at noon. Actually, it was more of a true representation of its nickname, which is “Portland’s Living Room.” When I got there, people were starting to gather and talk and many were writing on scrolls that were to be eventually sent to New York or Washington D.C. I couldn’t think of anything to write, so I found a place in the square to sit and watch. Many people were dressed in some combination of red, white, or blue, and some people were giving out American flag stickers to wear. A group of women at one side of the square were singing patriotic tunes, and encouraging other people to join in. Soon someone started singing the national anthem and we all stood there together, singing with our hands over our hearts, watching the American flag flown at half-mast ripple in the light breeze.
It was almost eerie watching everyone sing and band together. The heavy hearts, the teary eyes, and the feelings of frustration were very much in evidence.
A few people wearing “Savior Jesus” sandwich boards began milling through the square, one of whom was carrying a flag. I was grateful that they weren’t shouting their testimony to the crowds. It was good to see that these evangelists had more respect than that for the crowd. Instead, they talked quietly with anyone who approached them for a conversation.
A few minutes after the national anthem had been completed, a young man who appeared to be of Middle Eastern descent stood up on one of the sculptures in the square and began to speak. As I was sitting next to the fountains I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but as I watched the crowd move in closer to hear his words I began to get nervous. He was one of the few people in the square of non-caucasian descent, and I hoped fervently that I was not about to witness a mob scene. However, when I saw the evangelists begin to applaud his comments, and additional people continued that applause, my fear lifted and I began to appreciate the dynamics of the crowd I was watching. More people from all lifestyles, ethnicities, and ages began showing up in the square. People took turns standing on the sculpture to have their say. It was beautiful to watch.
After I walked down to join the crowd and the speeches start attempting to apply Scripture to what we should do politically and militarily, I decided that I no longer wanted to be a part of that scene. Besides, what I wanted to write on the scrolls had finally become clear, and so I went to the side of the square where the scrolls were being signed.
This is what I wrote:
“For one of the few times in my life, I have been left truly speechless.
With speech failing me, I am going to let my actions speak for me instead.
Actions based on love, forgiveness, tolerance, and acceptance.
I want peace to be a reality in my time.
-JA”
On my way back to work I walked through the mall. It was good to see that almost all of the stores had closed during the lunch hour to allow employees to participate in the day of prayer and remembrance.
When I got back to work my boss asked me to take pictures of the flag hanging in the atrium of our building. I found out later that the flag belongs to a woman who works on the seventh floor. It was given to her when her father passed away in 1983. For almost twenty years, she had never unfolded it. When she brought it in for a memorial service that took place on our roof at lunch today, it was unfolded for the first time. The group who participated shared a moment of silence with all the people holding onto the flag, then they sang “The Star Spangled Banner.” After the memorial service they hung the flag in the atrium.