Harry Tuttle
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Moms Unleash Their Anguish, Anger
Thousands March to End Gun Violence, Renew Assault Weapons Ban
http://www.washingtonpost.com/ac2/wp-dyn/A13053-2004May9
By Eric Rich and Theola Labbé
Washington Post Staff Writers
Monday, May 10, 2004; Page B01
Protesters, most of them women, gathered on the West Lawn of the U.S. Capitol yesterday for the largest gun-control demonstration in four years, a loud and calculated effort aimed at forcing President Bush to renew the soon-to-expire federal ban on assault weapons.
The rally lacked the star power, and certainly the numbers, of the first Million Mom March in 2000, when hundreds of thousands of women flooded the Mall on Mother's Day. Organizers this time put the crowd at close to 3,000, a figure that could not be confirmed because police no longer estimate crowd sizes.
But the smaller turnout was expected, organizers said, and sufficient to kick off a nationwide campaign aimed at renewing the ban before it expires Sept. 13. The moms, who have joined with the Brady Campaign to Prevent Gun Violence, hope public pressure will force Bush to stand by campaign pledges supporting the extension of the popular ban.
"We are laser-beam focused on this," said Donna Dees-Thomases, the public relations consultant who came up with the idea for the 2000 march. "That's what he said he was going to do, and that's what we're going to hold him to."
Some said the rally, which included calls for broader gun-control measures, had a special resonance here and now, coming just a week after a stray bullet struck and killed Chelsea Cromartie, 8, in her aunt's home in Northeast Washington. The District has been convulsed by a surge in homicides of children, with 13 slain this year.
But in this crowd of mothers, sisters and daughters, Chelsea's death stood out more for its timing than its tragedy.
From Minneapolis came Linda Winborn, drawn to the cause after a stray bullet crashed into her home two years ago and pierced the heart of her daughter, Tyesha, 11.
From Detroit came the Pioneers of Peace, a group whose 25 members have suffered permanent injuries from gun violence. All but one are in wheelchairs.
From across the country, activists had brought symbols of their conviction -- a large white sheet with the painted handprints of children who pledged to stay away from guns; a mannequin of Bush, which people were invited to pummel; and a memorial tapestry from North Carolina.
In scores of sleeves sewn into the cloth were messages, many handwritten, from the mothers, fathers, children of victims of gun violence. Here were pleas for help in unsolved slayings. There were photographs of children, all smiles then, all deceased now. And notes with the specific facts -- always the date -- that survivors find salient, necessary to repeat in remembering and telling.
"I march for Ricardo Bailey, my son, and Terron Coleman, my nephew, who were killed on Dec. 30, 2001," said one.
"I am here for the loss of my baby brother to gun violence April 4, 1988," said another.
The day began with an interfaith service and then yielded to several hours of speakers, each taking the stage with the majesty of the Capitol as their backdrop. Jesse L. Jackson was on hand, as were a smattering of members of Congress and seemingly hundreds of people whose lives had been directly touched by gun violence.
At one point, as the crowd eased into the first verse of the spiritual "We Shall Overcome," Pamela Bailey stood silently. The Silver Spring resident said she couldn't sing, so frozen was she by memories of her lost son, Terron Coleman -- the sound of his voice, birthday cards, a greeting on Mother's Day.
"He had a right to his life," Bailey said.
Jackson, in oratory that was in equal measure political and religious, denounced the war in Iraq and drew the crowd to its feet, booming out a line that became an instant slogan: "We will remember, in November."
As a candidate in 1999, Bush declared his support for maintaining the ban on assault weapons. "It makes no sense for assault weapons to be around our society," Bush said.
But House Republican leaders have more recently said they have no intention of delivering a bill for him to sign. Majority Leader Tom DeLay (R-Tex.) said in June that most members were willing to let the ban expire. Sen. Larry E. Craig (R-Idaho), a staunch defender of gun rights and a National Rifle Association board member, said recently that the issue is resolved. "They can march, but it will never grace the halls of Congress again," he said.
Speakers yesterday said that merely waiting for a bill to land on Bush's desk is not enough and that the president should urge Congress to send him one.
"Each day that goes by, we are losing time," said Rep. Chris Van Hollen (D-Md.). "The president has . . . got to live up to his promise to get this extension through."
Assault weapons are "made for violence," Rep. James P. Moran Jr. (D-Va.) told the crowd. "They're made for causing catastrophes. They ought to be illegal."
A White House spokesman said yesterday that the president's position remains unchanged and that he had no comment on whether Bush would lobby Congress for such a bill.
At Freedom Plaza near the White House, about 65 people attended a rally held by the Second Amendment Sisters, a gun rights group. Among them was Melissa Kern, 30, of Woodbridge, who said the three guns she keeps locked in a nightstand make her feel safe.
"If someone comes into my house in the middle of the night, I'm protected," said Kern, a pregnant mother of two.
But, at least in numbers, the message that carried the day was at the end of the Mall, in the sweltering heat.
The day seemed to grow only hotter as speaker after speaker spoke longer than planned. Members of the Ballou High School Marching Band, wearing jacketed uniforms, sheltered in shade where they could find it.
By midafternoon, the crowd pulled away from the stage and collected at the top of Constitution Avenue.
Suddenly, someone in the back shouted what many seemed to be thinking: "March! March! March!"
The chant was picked up enthusiastically, but only briefly. Lawmakers in suits had been waiting to speak for hours, as had the Pioneers and other victims of gun violence. They would not be disappointed.
Finally, close to an hour late, the crowd spilled out of the West Lawn, down Constitution Avenue and headed to the Washington Monument -- marching at last.
Thousands March to End Gun Violence, Renew Assault Weapons Ban
http://www.washingtonpost.com/ac2/wp-dyn/A13053-2004May9
By Eric Rich and Theola Labbé
Washington Post Staff Writers
Monday, May 10, 2004; Page B01
Protesters, most of them women, gathered on the West Lawn of the U.S. Capitol yesterday for the largest gun-control demonstration in four years, a loud and calculated effort aimed at forcing President Bush to renew the soon-to-expire federal ban on assault weapons.
The rally lacked the star power, and certainly the numbers, of the first Million Mom March in 2000, when hundreds of thousands of women flooded the Mall on Mother's Day. Organizers this time put the crowd at close to 3,000, a figure that could not be confirmed because police no longer estimate crowd sizes.
But the smaller turnout was expected, organizers said, and sufficient to kick off a nationwide campaign aimed at renewing the ban before it expires Sept. 13. The moms, who have joined with the Brady Campaign to Prevent Gun Violence, hope public pressure will force Bush to stand by campaign pledges supporting the extension of the popular ban.
"We are laser-beam focused on this," said Donna Dees-Thomases, the public relations consultant who came up with the idea for the 2000 march. "That's what he said he was going to do, and that's what we're going to hold him to."
Some said the rally, which included calls for broader gun-control measures, had a special resonance here and now, coming just a week after a stray bullet struck and killed Chelsea Cromartie, 8, in her aunt's home in Northeast Washington. The District has been convulsed by a surge in homicides of children, with 13 slain this year.
But in this crowd of mothers, sisters and daughters, Chelsea's death stood out more for its timing than its tragedy.
From Minneapolis came Linda Winborn, drawn to the cause after a stray bullet crashed into her home two years ago and pierced the heart of her daughter, Tyesha, 11.
From Detroit came the Pioneers of Peace, a group whose 25 members have suffered permanent injuries from gun violence. All but one are in wheelchairs.
From across the country, activists had brought symbols of their conviction -- a large white sheet with the painted handprints of children who pledged to stay away from guns; a mannequin of Bush, which people were invited to pummel; and a memorial tapestry from North Carolina.
In scores of sleeves sewn into the cloth were messages, many handwritten, from the mothers, fathers, children of victims of gun violence. Here were pleas for help in unsolved slayings. There were photographs of children, all smiles then, all deceased now. And notes with the specific facts -- always the date -- that survivors find salient, necessary to repeat in remembering and telling.
"I march for Ricardo Bailey, my son, and Terron Coleman, my nephew, who were killed on Dec. 30, 2001," said one.
"I am here for the loss of my baby brother to gun violence April 4, 1988," said another.
The day began with an interfaith service and then yielded to several hours of speakers, each taking the stage with the majesty of the Capitol as their backdrop. Jesse L. Jackson was on hand, as were a smattering of members of Congress and seemingly hundreds of people whose lives had been directly touched by gun violence.
At one point, as the crowd eased into the first verse of the spiritual "We Shall Overcome," Pamela Bailey stood silently. The Silver Spring resident said she couldn't sing, so frozen was she by memories of her lost son, Terron Coleman -- the sound of his voice, birthday cards, a greeting on Mother's Day.
"He had a right to his life," Bailey said.
Jackson, in oratory that was in equal measure political and religious, denounced the war in Iraq and drew the crowd to its feet, booming out a line that became an instant slogan: "We will remember, in November."
As a candidate in 1999, Bush declared his support for maintaining the ban on assault weapons. "It makes no sense for assault weapons to be around our society," Bush said.
But House Republican leaders have more recently said they have no intention of delivering a bill for him to sign. Majority Leader Tom DeLay (R-Tex.) said in June that most members were willing to let the ban expire. Sen. Larry E. Craig (R-Idaho), a staunch defender of gun rights and a National Rifle Association board member, said recently that the issue is resolved. "They can march, but it will never grace the halls of Congress again," he said.
Speakers yesterday said that merely waiting for a bill to land on Bush's desk is not enough and that the president should urge Congress to send him one.
"Each day that goes by, we are losing time," said Rep. Chris Van Hollen (D-Md.). "The president has . . . got to live up to his promise to get this extension through."
Assault weapons are "made for violence," Rep. James P. Moran Jr. (D-Va.) told the crowd. "They're made for causing catastrophes. They ought to be illegal."
A White House spokesman said yesterday that the president's position remains unchanged and that he had no comment on whether Bush would lobby Congress for such a bill.
At Freedom Plaza near the White House, about 65 people attended a rally held by the Second Amendment Sisters, a gun rights group. Among them was Melissa Kern, 30, of Woodbridge, who said the three guns she keeps locked in a nightstand make her feel safe.
"If someone comes into my house in the middle of the night, I'm protected," said Kern, a pregnant mother of two.
But, at least in numbers, the message that carried the day was at the end of the Mall, in the sweltering heat.
The day seemed to grow only hotter as speaker after speaker spoke longer than planned. Members of the Ballou High School Marching Band, wearing jacketed uniforms, sheltered in shade where they could find it.
By midafternoon, the crowd pulled away from the stage and collected at the top of Constitution Avenue.
Suddenly, someone in the back shouted what many seemed to be thinking: "March! March! March!"
The chant was picked up enthusiastically, but only briefly. Lawmakers in suits had been waiting to speak for hours, as had the Pioneers and other victims of gun violence. They would not be disappointed.
Finally, close to an hour late, the crowd spilled out of the West Lawn, down Constitution Avenue and headed to the Washington Monument -- marching at last.