Three Men on a Bridge (or "The Devil Made me Do It")

A couple of weeks ago, I was deeply angered by what I felt was an egregious abuse of power. The one who occupies the office of the President had abused his constitutional authority for pardons and reprieves for not only political purposes, but a new precedent-setting reason. He did it because he operates his office with disregard for the law of the land, and the constitution. He did it because his minion was acting under his own orders when he broke the law. He rewarded this perverse and dangerous act of loyalty with a hapless slap on the wrist.

Anger, being what it is – is not the healthy and optimal state of mankind. Anger is a natural and transitory emotion, which like the unstable nucleus of radioactive elements, cannot remain untransformed. The transformation and dissipation of anger can take many paths. It can be self-destructive. It can bring violence and rioting. It can be transferred to others. It can serve as a catalyst for change when channeled properly. Anger can not sit still. Anger requires motion. Suppressing this radioactive emotion only helps it reach critical mass.

So that Wednesday morning when I went to work, I knew that in order for me to feel better, I must do something. I had written emails, and called both of my Senators and my Representative, as well as posted an angry blog. It had failed to fully dissipate my wrath. I called up my good friend Stephen Webster to see if perhaps he would like to join me in a public protest. The Gonzomucker is always – ALWAYS up for a good protest. Later in the day, my good friend and former Congressional candidate Tim Barnwell, called me, and I asked if he would join us in our impromptu demonstration. Also willing to fight the good fight, he agreed to join us.

During my lunch hour, I drove to the craft store in the sweltering sticky humid heat of that July day. I picked up yards of white fabric, foot-high stencils, and spray paint. I drove home and quickly went to work in my garage. My sign would only say one word: “Impeach” – in foot-tall hot pink lettering. I covered the still-wet paint with another layer of cloth and rolled it back up, taking it back to work with me. The rest of the afternoon went quickly as it approached H-Hour: 5 PM.

The location we agreed on was the Fox Avenue bridge over I-35E through Lewisville, TX. The North-bound traffic backs up naturally at that point as folks rush home from work in Dallas and other points South, to their homes in Lewisville, Denton, and in-between.

The Fox Avenue bridge, for those not familiar with Lewisville, is the ONLY bridge over I-35E where it safe for a pedestrian to even walk, much less stand and hold a banner. On the South side of the bridge, there is a pedestrian / bicycle lane completely arched over with chain-link fencing. It has been that way since my wife was a child growing up in Lewisville.

As 5 PM had neared, the weather started to turn ominous. The sky darkened, and thunder could be heard and lightening seen in the distance. I momentarily doubted whether my accomplices would show. As it turned out, there was a few minutes of delay due to the traffic getting there, but it gave me time to set up. The breeze on top of the bridge felt cool and there was only the occasional rain drop. The plan was for us to stay there on the bridge holding our IMPEACH banner from 5 PM to 6:30 PM. Just an hour and a half. Just at the right time to share our message with a captive audience.

Webster arrived with his own banner, which itself was a veteran of another demonstration in another place, but with the same word: IMPEACH. Until Barnwell arrived, we held that one banner.

We waved at cars. We looked in the eyes of drivers. Most of them looked at us too. The reaction was surprisingly positive for an area that seems so firmly rooted in dogmatic conservatism.

We were not there very long before a Lewisville Police car rolled up on the West side of the bridge. Webster and I saw him coming, and we were both prepared for whatever might happen, but we would not be moved until 6:30 PM. As the officer got out of his car and began to walk the 20 yard or so to where we stood, people in the cars below honked and pointed, as if to warn us. We waved at them reassuringly.

The officer asked us what we were doing, though he could plainly see what we were doing. We tipped our sign back so that he could read it. He told us that someone had called in complaining that we were backing up traffic. All three of us smiled as we looked North and saw traffic backed up for as far as the eye could see. Traffic is ALWAYS backed up at this location at this hour. We were simply the entertainment.

He asked us who the sign referred to. I think that we were asked that question several times that day. The true answer is “everybody”. But specifically, the man who occupies the office of the Vice President, and the man who occupies the office of the President. That was the answer. The officer told us he didn’t see anything wrong with what we were doing, and that it was our “first amendment thing”. He said that his supervisor would be along shortly and that they would be on their way.

We continued to get honks and waves, and thumbs-up, and woops from the traffic down below.

When the supervisor showed up, he and the other officer had a quick conversation rehashing what we had told him. They told us they had no problem with us being up there as long as we were not throwing things off, or attaching signs to the bridge. We told them that our action was non-violent, and that the sign would be the only attraction. They left. As they drove off, an officer flashed us a bona-fide peace sign with a smile on his face.

Tim showed up, and we unfurled the other IMPEACH banner, with Tim holding one end of each banner, and Stephen and I on the ends. With our free hands, we waved. When trucks would blast their horns, or someone would give us a thumbs-up or peace sign, we would return the salute.

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that there were a few detractors. Yes, there are grown adults here in North Texas who think that sticking up their middle finger is an appropriate means of civil discourse. I expected it. Some of the more mature dissenting motorists gave a thumbs-down, or a disapproving wag of the index finger. But we were not there to transfer our anger, but rather to turn that anger into action. We did not repay unkind gestures with more unkind gestures. Just peace signs and waves. And an ever-broadening smile.

It became surreal up there, on the bridge in our chain-link faraday cage, as dark clouds moved around us and we could see and hear storms. But our bridge was dry. The cars below us were wet. We could look down the road and see where the rain was falling on either side. But we stood in the cool breeze dry. At one point, it started to sprinkle on us, as if to test our resolve. Stephen and I didn’t care whether we stood there in a torrential downpour or not. We were not going to leave that spot until 6:30 PM.

My wife called me to see if I was going to make myself a lightening rod. I reassured her that we were protected, and that I really didn’t give a rat’s ass anyway. I asked if she would mind driving under and taking a photo while we had the banners out. Being the patient saint that she is, she agreed.

It did not start raining on us again until 6:28 PM. By 6:30, when we packed up, it was raining. I was slightly frustrated that someone might get the impression that we were leaving because of the rain. I had a dinner date at 7 PM, and I needed to leave by 6:30. So I did.

I hope that you saw us. You’ll probably see us again, but maybe with a few more people next time. Hopefully, it caused you to think, and discuss with your family and friends, whether or not it had occurred to you before.

If you believe that America is a nation of laws and not of men. If you believe that our rights are granted to us not by the government, but by our creator. If you believe that the system of checks and balances that has preserved our Republic for over 200 years should be protected, then I believe there is no other conclusion to make other than that our top priority at this point should be to stop tyranny before it can take root.

If you have anger, then do something. Call or write your representative and senators today.