Something peculiar happened to me while particpating in the Voices for Creative Nonviolence's 30-day, 320-mile "Walk for Justice" from Springfield to North Chicago, Illinois to reclaim funding for the common good and away from war.
This afternoon, drinking a cup of coffee while sitting in the Jesse Brown V.A. Medical Center on Chicago's south side, a Veterans Administration cop walked up to me and said, "OK, you've had your 15 minutes, it's time to go."
"Huh?", I asked intelligently, not quite sure what he was talking
about.
"You can't be in here protesting," officer Adkins said, pointing to
my Veterans For Peace shirt.
"Well, I'm not protesting, I'm having a cup of coffee," I returned,
thinking that logic would convince Adkins to go back to his earlier
duties of guarding against serious terrorists.
Flipping his badge open, he said, "No, not with that shirt. You're
protesting and you have to go."
Beginning to get his drift, I said firmly, "Not before I finish my
coffee."
He insisted that I leave, but still not quite believing my ears, I