2,000 vigil
Oct. 27th, 2005 01:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
deborahjrossLast night, stood on the sidewalk in town with a few neighbors, holding candles to honor the over 2,000 men and women in the armed services who have died so far, not to mention the tens of thousands -- perhaps hundreds of thousands -- of Iraqis and the untold numbers on both sides whose bodies, minds and lives have been shattered. Sometimes, I am angry, but this time just felt sad. It is so tragic.
The vigil was small -- larger ones further south and also a big one in Santa Cruz, because the main road into Boulder Creek, Highway 9, was blocked by a nasty accident. I passed it on my way home from work, looked like a driver took one of those nasty curves too fast or didn't allow for the slippery surface with the rain, and smashed into a power pole. I saw the ambulance headed toward Santa Cruz, but no lights or siren, so he must have been stable. As a result, there were sometimes more of us holding candles than there were driving down the street.
Dave had been held up at work and joined us for the last 10 minutes or so, then he and I went out to dinner. There's a Scottish pub, "The White Cockade," a few miles north of town, north being "up into the hills." They closed for a while, but have now re-opened with cozy, welcoming decor. Pub food like fish/n/chips, bangers'n'mash, shepherd's pie, various ales and brews on tap, soft Celtic music in the background. Small intimate tables -- we got the one next to the wood-burning stove, as the place was almost empty. Not a low-calorie dinner by any means, but food for the soul, felt like stepping into a saner, friendlier world.
The vigil was small -- larger ones further south and also a big one in Santa Cruz, because the main road into Boulder Creek, Highway 9, was blocked by a nasty accident. I passed it on my way home from work, looked like a driver took one of those nasty curves too fast or didn't allow for the slippery surface with the rain, and smashed into a power pole. I saw the ambulance headed toward Santa Cruz, but no lights or siren, so he must have been stable. As a result, there were sometimes more of us holding candles than there were driving down the street.
Dave had been held up at work and joined us for the last 10 minutes or so, then he and I went out to dinner. There's a Scottish pub, "The White Cockade," a few miles north of town, north being "up into the hills." They closed for a while, but have now re-opened with cozy, welcoming decor. Pub food like fish/n/chips, bangers'n'mash, shepherd's pie, various ales and brews on tap, soft Celtic music in the background. Small intimate tables -- we got the one next to the wood-burning stove, as the place was almost empty. Not a low-calorie dinner by any means, but food for the soul, felt like stepping into a saner, friendlier world.
