Rescue the Republic Wrap Up
some reflections from an exciting adventure back to Washington D.C.
Introduction
Every good story starts with an interesting introduction. The start of my adventure to Rescue the Republic was no different. While preparing to shut down my small business for a week, some unexpected travelers showed up at night. They were biking around the country. We ended up talking for hours about spiritual things as they setup their rolling domiciles on wheels. In the morning we squeezed in a conversation and breakfast before I cleaned up and hit the dusty trail.
Now I have a storied history of being late for trains and this occasion was no different. The first leg of the trip began in Washington, Missouri and the eventual final destination was Washington D.C. Between me and the train station in Washington was a bike trail and road, that involved 10-12 miles, in which I was determined to walk. The cheap airline I booked for my flight from Chicago to Philadelphia created the necessity to pack light in order to comply with their singular personal item policy. The first 5 miles of the walk felt particularly brisk as I was contemplating the exciting prospect of a loosely planned long weekend full of potentialities.
The problem presented itself when, in typical fashion, around mile 6 a thought occurred to me that I was short on time to reach the station walking, by 30 minutes to an hour. I did have the experience of running across the country earlier this year under my belt and I was wearing the same ultra-marathon bag that accompanied me during that trip on my back. Mile 6 to 7 was spent running with most of my clothes and accessories in the bag and an additional bag of snacks in my hand. At mile 7 the trail was quickly ending and a road was in front of me. I took the next quarter mile to pack all the snacks into my backpack and prepare to jog the remaining 5 miles, as I selected the longer route that was predominately bike trail.
The whole time my mind was clear that even with an epic effort it was likely that I would miss the afternoon train. My ticket would allow me to modify the time, switching it to the evening train with little disruption to the overall trip, but my goal of making the afternoon train remained. The thought crossed my mind of “running the perfect race”. With about 10-15lbs. on my back, I started the 5 mile jog. By the end of a couple miles on a gravel road my body was exhausted and my mind was telling me to stop and walk. My thought was to make it to the foot of the bridge that crossed the Missouri River, cross the bridge walking, and finish it out in a dead sprint to barely make the train. My will triumphed over my body and beyond the crest of the bridge my mind now prepared for the 1-2 miles of drive it would take to push through the pain. I was starting to get a little pumped up. Would I have what it takes?
From the bridge to the platform was a testament to humanities unending quest to overcome adversity. It turned out that I didn’t have what it took to make it to the train station on time but I did still arrive five minutes before the train did. The scheduled time of departure was 1:04 p.m., but I arrived at 1:14 p.m., with just enough time to snap a few picture and try to calm my excitement. The guests that were camping at my restaurant the night before would have attributed this flash of fortune to the universe providing. For me, it wasn’t clear why the train was slightly delayed enough for me to make it, but I was proud of my effort in spite of the unlikelihood of arriving on time.
Over the next couple of days I found myself walking through the streets of St. Louis, along the riverwalk in Chicago, riding trains in Philadelphia, and chatting with alumni at homecoming in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. From Lancaster I was on my way to Washington D.C., by way of Philadelphia. On the 30th St. Station train platform, a Mom with her two kids were also gearing up to travel there. Her kids were a little unruly and she was having a relatively loud conversation on the phone about the trip. It wasn’t until she ended the conversation, reigned in her kids, and asked me if I was also heading to the rally, that I realized she had the same Kennedy 24 hat on as me (except trimmed in camouflage). She asked me what I thought about the potential rain showers predicted for the next day, to which I replied that getting a little wet was probably worth it, if it meant saving our country. This was my tribe and by the end of the rally that realization would hit home.
Union Station in D.C. was a familiar sight from the two years I lived in the metro area. It feels great to leave the station with a sense of direction and not starring at a phone for which way to go. My route took me past the Capital and through the National Mall, to scope out the rally location prior to arriving the next day. Near the Capital there was a small stage facing the Washington Monument. The small crowd was listening to some men holding their hands up and speaking partly in Hebrew from the Old Testament of the Bible. I thought it was a modest stage but would do for what they were trying to accomplish (a grassroots effort of Americans from every persuasions putting the country’s most pressing needs above their own preferences). As I walked towards the Lincoln Memorial, on the other side of the Washington Monument, a bigger venue that was designed like an outdoor rock came into view. A flag saying “Rage Against the War Machine” hung on the fence. Okay, this may be the start of a revolution. The rebel alliance may have a fighting chance.
The rest of my walking tour took me past the reflection pool, Korean War Memorial, Lincoln Memorial, across the Memorial Bridge, along the Potomac River on the Mt. Vernon trail, past the Pentagon, Air Force Memorial, and to my hotel on Columbia Ave., less than a mile from where I lived four years prior. On a Saturday night in Virginia, that was warm and clearing up from the rain, the sidewalks were bustling. Some people were walking home with groceries, like me, while others were dinning at outdoor tables near the street. It was dark by then with the ambiance of warm light from eating establishments creating intimate settings for friends to enjoy each other’s company.
For me it was a craft cocktail accompanied by a healthy style microwave dinner alone in my hotel room. The bus ride the night before amounted to little sleep, laundry was due, and my plan to go for a long run in the morning before the rally suggested that an early night was in order. From my hotel in the morning I ran on a familiar route past my old apartment in Courthouse, past my old employer in Rosslyn, along the Mt. Vernon trail again, and then back to the hotel, circling the Pentagon from the other side. The run also served as a recon mission to scope out the route I would take to the airport the next morning.
Rescue the Republic Rally
My trip from the hotel in Arlington to the National Mall was by bike, using the Capital Bikeshare, retracing my steps from the day before. Twenty two minutes and a couple miles later I was on the Mall without breaking a sweat. My bag was packed with snacks and water for what I expected to be a full day of exciting speakers and music. The weather was a little misty and overcast with a comfortable temperature. The turnout was decent. Hopefully the area would continue to fill up as it got closer to noon. The opening seemed promising. A speaker led the crowd in a stretching exercise that was practical, spiritual, and enlightening. But the levity didn’t last. The first M.C., Rob Schneider, got a hold of the microphone and started telling some pretty offensive jokes. They weren’t offensive funny like jokes that are edgy can be. His evident bias against topics like transgender rights instantly created a feeling of tension. For an event that was promoted to bring many different types of people together for the cause of restoring our country, Rob effectively created division from the start.
It’s obvious why some people are very passionate about protecting the safety of children but topics like gender affirming care are different than leading an alternative lifestyle. The former is a policy question that is debatable but the latter is something that the federal government shouldn’t have any interest in. The big problem that started the rally, was a comedian who conflated the two matters. Most moderate and independent voters care about government policies and not personal lifestyle choices. Thankfully Rob was only topped by one speaker who was so “chringy” that we couldn’t bear to watch his speech, which thankfully didn’t go on for very long. It seemed like a parody of the worst rhetoric the Trump campaign has to offer. We hoped that the reason for this young man receiving a spot in the lineup was simply because his parents paid a lot of money to get him on.
Most of the other speakers did bring the rally back to a respectable intellectual discussion about some of the major problems affecting our Union. The firefighters memorial, adorned with bagpipes, bearing a golden ax, and carrying two flags gave the crowd a nostalgic sense of pride in our country’s struggle to preserve freedom. Chris Martenson (Economic Futurist) shared an illustration on how many $1,000 bills would be in a stack of one million, one billion, and one trillion dollars. The billion dollar stack was as tall as the Washington Monument. You don’t want to know how high the pile of “Clevelands” in the trillion dollar stack went but to give you an idea it was approaching space. He went on to explain what the country got for the first X amount of trillions of dollars added to our national debt in the first 200 some years of our history. Vice Versa, he explained what the country got for the second X amount of trillions of dollars added to our national debt in a couple decades. The example was as stark in reality as the illustration of towering piles of cash in our imagination. He explained that we have a “math problem” in dealing with our debt and the interest that we pay on it. The problem is bi-partisan and has become existential.
The highlight of the speakers for me was Jordan B. Peterson’s juxtaposition of the primary story of human existence being one between power and sacrifice. If the other speakers were giving you the “What”, Jordan was giving you the “Why”. His humility on the topic in relation to his superb intellectual gifts gave everyone in attendance something that they could both think about and act upon. The climax of the event was when Peterson (Canadian Professor) and Russell Brand (English Entertainer) locked in a spontaneous unrehearsed “rap battle”. The culmination of the entertaining dialogue ended with a challenge to the audience.
If you’re being terrified into compliance you’re being manipulated by tyrants. Tyrants use fear, they use fear, and they use force. And what you want instead from your leaders is an invitational welcome, right. And that’s why this today is a celebration. We’re happy you’re here. We’re hoping for your help because your help is necessary. This isn’t about formulating a vision for you, it’s about inviting you to bear the responsibility for your life that’s precisely the attitude that has made this country great.
Jordan B. Peterson
A few other Interesting points that could be described as highlights
Conclusion
The main reason we closed the business and made the long journey to Washington D.C. was to witness the start of a revolution that never quite transpired. Sometimes you make a decision “just-in-case” and this event was one of those times. Many of the people passionate about the ideology of the movement, like Make America Healthy Again, participated in the entirety of the event from noon to around 7 at night. It shows the dedication that some have to addressing the biggest problems that are facing our country. When I overheard of an after party that some select people would be attending it was a reminder that in life, the many are often excluded from the rewards. The realization of not being included in that exclusive group, even after running across the country to promote political unity, felt just fine as I witnessed one family leaving the event.
Two boys, brothers, were creating quite the scene as they were leaving the event. They were running around, passing a football back and forth, the youngest rocking a Philadelphia Eagles hat. With their mom trailing behind them and shouting for them to be careful, I eventually noticed that this was the family I met on the platform in Philly. I jogged over to greet them as the youngest tossed me the football. Their train had been slightly delayed which allowed them to stay for most of the rally. We exchanged the parts of the day that we enjoyed the most as they asked me if I would be on the train. For me my journey back to Missouri would continue but in that moment the meaning of the trip became clear. This was my tribe and I was happier to be part of the ordinary many than the selected few.
Postscript
My trip to Reagan National Airport turned out to be my favorite part of the trip. Again, with a short amount of sleep, waking up at 4 a.m. on a cloudy misty day, I quickly packed to leave for the airport. On the way I ate breakfast at a local diner where I was served by an interesting young man from Peru. Then I hopped on a bike for one last time to ride through the illuminated wet streets of Pentagon City to reach Crystal City’s DCA. There’s something provocative about being awake while most are not and doing something that few would dare, like riding a bike early in the morning to the airport in the rain. The bike trip cost me $2.05 and I will not soon forget the experience. The rest of the adventure that day was just a flight, train ride, and 10 mile walk back to our current endeavor (you know, just normal stuff). Some say, “the journey is the destination”.
