 |
| Rockin' my Million Man March t-shirt 2 years after the event |
My Junior year at Virginia Commonwealth University, Richmond, VA. I was in rehearsals for Moliere's "The Misanthrope," directed by the late Dr. Kenneth Campbell, a towering, gray-haired, liberal Scotsman, that I grew to love and respect during my years at VCU. I'd been hearing for quite some time of the upcoming Million Man March that was to take place on October 16, 1995, on the Mall in Washington, DC, but being a good student/actor, I didn't want to miss a day of classes and rehearsal, so I'd resolved not to make an effort to attend.
However, it was about a week before the big event, and the VCU Chapter of the NAACP started advertising that a bus would be going from VCU to DC on that day. Students only had to pay $15. That thing marinated in my spirit for days! Could I afford to miss a day of classes and rehearsal? As the deadline approached to pay the $15, the answer became "yes." This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
So I moseyed over to the NAACP office on campus and paid my money. Received my receipt, which I still keep in a scrapbook today.
I remember how nervous I was approaching Dr. Campbell and our stage manager in order to ask permission to miss a day of rehearsal. Dr. Campbell gave me his blessing. He said that he knew how important the event was, but when I returned I had to make sure I didn't fall behind.
The bus was going to depart around 3AM from the VCU Campus, on the morning of the 16th. So I made a real effort to go to bed by 8PM the night before. I think I tossed and turned mostly.
On the bus, I recognized a couple of classmates from Dr. W. Avon Drake's Civil Rights Movement course that we were taking that semester, Todd and Tee. Todd had some friends with him. We all basically formed our MMM group. On the bus, also, was a young beautiful brown-skinned freshman girl, named Felicia. She decided to go alone. We struck up conversation, so she joined in our group. She had a very quiet disposition about her, which I liked.
When the bus arrived in DC, the sun was just starting to reveal a few rays over the horizon. We walked close enough to the where the multi-faith prayers would be taking place at the start of the event. The night time was sluggishly making its exit, and the streets were PACKED. Brothers were everywhere, smiling, meeting, greeting:
"Hey brothers! Where you from? We just got in from Detroit!"
"God bless you, Brothers!"
"Peace be with you all!"
It was a beautiful mayhem.
Felicia and I stood, awaiting the opening prayers. I found out that she was the youngest of nine children, and that she was from Norfolk. Finally the prayers happened, and daytime started to take over. Our group decided to take a walk around this sea of people. We noticed that there weren't just Black men present, but women too--White men and women--Latino, Asian. . . and it was all love.
We were tired, hungry, and chilly, so we walked into the Air and Space Museum. We went into one of the auditoriums, just so that we could sit down--and catch a quick, warm nap. Then I think we just roamed about the Mall for the rest of the day, pausing to listen to certain speakers. While roaming we ran into August Moon, an outspoken, local Richmond cable-access celebrity, who gave us an enthusiastic greeting. And later, I ran into Mr. Frederick Jordan, who owns and runs a men's clothing store in Winchester, VA. He was the only Black business owner in the area, who catered to the community. When he first opened, I was in high school. I used to purchase all of my medallions and Afrocentric t-shirts from him. Plus he just always had uplifting conversation. I was very surprised and happy to run into him at this March.
(For those in the DC theatre community, if you saw "Eclipsed" at Woolly Mammoth Theatre, his daughter, Ayesha Ngaujah, was in that show.)
Finally, we had to board the bus around 6PM, just as Minister Louis Farrakhan--the mastermind behind the whole event--was about to take stage. I was sad about having to leave at that point, but we'd had a full day. I remember nothing after departing. I wasn't drunk or anything--probably just passed out.
Felicia and I went a few times over the next couple of years--even after I graduated, we went out a couple of times. Nothing serious ever came about, and we eventually lost touch, but she was a very sweet person.
As far as I was concerned, the March was a success. I know people were very skeptical and still to this day, I hear a lot of cynicism. There was no way one march could've solved the deep-seated issues of our community and country, but if only to gather hundreds of thousands together for a day of peace and love, then I'd say it was a success.
The spirit of that day still stays with me. Hard to believe it was 15 years ago.
Happy anniversary to my Brothers!
