In addition to the thousands who marched in Alaska the day after President Trump’s inauguration, hundreds of Alaskans also flew across the country to participate in the Women’s March on Washington, D.C. Estimates put it as one of the largest protests in the capital’s history. One Juneau protester learned that being in it was a bit of an endurance test.
By 9 a.m., it was clear turnout was much larger than the 200,000 expected.
“The crowds are really big, which is great, but we’re advising people then to go down this side street a block or two. You’ll have an easier time getting into the rally,” a woman in a reflective vest shouted as thousands of protesters streamed down the Capitol grounds, onto the National Mall.
Another helpful shouter was at the next street: “It’s bottle-necked here. Go straight. Go straight.”
Libby Bakalar, an attorney, mom and blogger, came with friends from Juneau and Ketchikan. They’d planned to meet a larger group of Alaskans at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of the American Indian. That didn’t happen.
“Yeah I tried to beckon the rest of our crew back here but I think they kind of got swept away in that zone,” Bakalar said. She and a friend each paid $800 for their airline tickets, with the help of a “companion fare” discount. Through social media organizing, she’d heard as many as 600 Alaskan women had come to Washington to march.
Bakalar ended up spending most of the day hemmed in between two museums along the National Mall. It was packed, wall-to-wall. Bakalar wore a vinyl banner that covered her front, shoulder to knee.
“It says, ‘We’re from Alaska, and we can see Russia from the White House,’” Bakalar said.
Just then a protester dressed as Wonder Woman approached, drawn by the word “Alaska.”
“My name is Joannah,” she said, reaching out from her cape for a hug. “I’m from Sitka!”
That’s how it was all day long. People would see the Alaska sign and reveal their own connections to Alaska, or just thank Bakalar for coming from so far.
As Gloria Steinem, Angela Davis, Madonna, Ashley Judd and Alicia Keys rallied the pink-hatted masses, Bakalar said she’s sympathetic to Trump fans who feel the economy has left them behind.
“I think they’re getting conned,” Bakalar said. “And I think they’re going to find that out the hard way, unfortunately. I think they’re problems are extremely real and serious, and he’s just not the answer to those problems. He’s presenting easy solutions to things that don’t have easy solutions.”
Bakalar spent most of the day with her new friend Missy O’Keeffe, from New Jersey. They both started the morning with their mutual friend Kerri Willoughby, of Juneau. But they lost Kerri early, and, with so many people flooding the Mall, cell phones barely worked. O’Keeffe finally got word that Kerri and others might be near them.
“They said they’re on the other side of the Jumbotron, and Kerri’s in a tree,” O’Keeffe said.
“In a tree?” Bakalar asked. She looked up. But there were lots of trees, and lots of protesters sitting high in their branches. They couldn’t find Kerri.
At another point, Bakalar learned that one of her law school friends had somehow found a large group of Alaskans. They were just on the other side of the nearest museum.
She steeled herself to plunge through the crowd.
“I think I’m going to try and find the Alaska people,” she told O’Keeffe.
“Our Alaskan people?” O’Keeffe asked.
“No, the other ones,” Bakalar said.
They held hands and squeezed through the crowd. They made it about 20 feet.
“Abort. Abort. We can’t do it,” Bakalar said.
So they stayed roughly in place. By hour four, the rally was dragging on, and they hadn’t marched. They were chilled, the crush of the crowd made Bakalar edgy and nature’s call was growing urgent.
“I wish I were wearing a diaper,” Bakalar said.
Then word came that the intended march route was already jammed with people, all the way to the White House. Still, Bakalar’s spirits lifted whenever people responded to her banner. She posed for dozens of pictures.
“Did you guys really come from Alaska?” a Minnesotan asked. “Is that not the most awesome thing ever? I saw your sign and I just had to say thank you for coming.”
She met two women from Akron who had boarded a bus at 1:00 that morning to get to the march, and they were departing before sunset. She met a family that had driven from Chicago.
The crowd grew restless, demanding the rally end and the walk begin. Eventually, the human dam broke. It was more flood than march, with people going every which way. Bakalar (after visiting a portable toilet) found not only her Alaska friends but her parents, who had come from New York to protest.
Holly Handler, of Juneau, said whatever the discomforts, being part of the crowd was kind of the point.
“I wanted to be around people who had the same sense of reality that I do, and just to know that we’re not alone and to be part of the numbers, to be counted,” Handler said.
Liz Ruskin is the Washington, D.C., correspondent at Alaska Public Media. Reach her atlruskin@alaskapublic.org. Read more about Lizhere.
