My first protest

The wind picked up at the end of the No Kings protest, but it was still a good day and a good protest.

I’ve been to protests before, but it was always as a reporter. Today was the first time I attended a protest for myself.

I ran into a few people I know, including my friend, Maria.

My friend Maria. We didn’t know each other was going to be at the protest, so it was extra cool to hang out with her.

I also met new people. Even though we all had a bit of hesitancy in participating after the assassination of a state senator in Minnesota this morning and Nebraska Governor Pillen activated the National Guard, we all had a good time.

Most of the cars that passed us honked in support. Many people honked and raised their fists in support as they passed by.

There were a few who shook their heads “no” as they slowly passed us. That’s okay. We saw several middle fingers. I heard a “fuck Trump,” from one of the cars.

At one point, I saw a window roll down from a truck headed south on Avenue B. The man driving leaned his head out, gave us both middle fingers, and shouted, “Fuck you.”

I don’t know why, but I yelled back, “It’s okay, we still love you.” Suddenly, everyone around me started shouting, “We love you,” and “we will always love you.”

Several trucks passed in front of us and decided to “roll coal.” Whenever it happened, a Scottsbluff police car, of which there were many nearby, flicked on its lights and chased down the car. Hopefully, the drivers got tickets. There were loud cheers from my fellow protesters when we saw the police lights come on.

One of the best parts of No Kings Day.

It was a peaceful afternoon, even when the single protester with his “trump train” flag came by. People mostly didn’t engage with him and let him wander around with his flag. He tried to rile people up, but they weren’t having it. Everyone was there to peacefully protest.

I’ve been writing letters and making phone calls to my representatives at the state and federal level for about 35 years. This is the first time I’ve felt like I was a part of something and that, maybe, we can make a difference.