(1999 after the WTO events, Seattle)
I kind of believe in angels but I never thought I would meet so many in just a few days.
And everyone had a face of his and her own.
There was one woman with white hair and white cotton clothes. Her eye had been punched and she was smiling.
There was a 8 year-old black kid who had been gassed on Capitol Hill, along with his parents. He was sitting in a cardboard box and people were signing their name on it.
There was a suburban woman who drove from Issaquah with a minivan load of food for the protesters at the King County jail.
There were young punks helping the soup kitchen at the jail rally.
There was an older activist and poet who was rapping with some kids.
There was a woman physicist from India telling about farmer in her country committing suicide.
There were the naked student women from Santa Cruz dancing with the Steel Union workers.
There was the police officer who asked me if he could buy my afro wig.
There was the baker in Pioneer Square who gave me cinnamon rolls for the police officers.
There were the five young women in black dancing at 6th and Pike, surrounded by police in riot gear.
There was an older homeless native American woman dancing and chanting “freedom”.
There were Teamsters serving coffee for the protesters in front of the Hilton.
There were girls with pierced lips and noses
Guys with tattoos and funny hairdos
Organic people, lawyers and city councilmen and women.
Church leaders, 60’s activists and Vietnam vets.
They all came down from heaven for a big party in Seattle.
Everybody was dressed in funny costumes, even the police!
They threw fire crackers and funny gases.
They made a lot of noise and got their pictures in the paper.
They came from all over the world and distant planets.
They are the children of the revolution and they changed me forever.
Hugo
