Today’s “no kings” protest in my Woodstock, Georgia, community took place from 2 to 4 p.m. in downtown Woodstock, and demonstrators were encouraged to use the city’s free parking deck.
My biggest concern as a reporter for the state’s public broadcasting company, was whether parking would be full because the city’s amphitheater hosted a free concert in the park. “Free,” of course, because residents of Woodstock, like me, paid taxes to have nice things.
If the ongoing sidewalk project had been completed, my son and I could have walked or biked downtown, but this was the first chance I got to use the new parking deck.
My son has had an affinity for photography from his earliest selfies, and I’ve brought him on assignment a few times, as I did today. His photo credit bylines are well earned.
We arrived about 2:30 p.m. and parked on the first level because we had press credentials. My boy wore my bright yellow PRESS vest and GPB hat with the old logo, carrying my camera in his hands and pointing its lens toward passers by.
We walked across Arnold Mill Road near the Northside Hospital Cherokee Amphitheater, where the traffic light was installed after a distracted 17-year-old in a Jeep Patriot struck and killed a 3-month-old baby carried in the arms of the 28-year-old mother and her 61-year-old friend, both of whom died from their injuries.
After crossing, we could hear but not yet see the hundreds of people cheering and shouting. Only two people didn’t want to give me their name. The first was a man in a red Trump hat and T-shirt who said, “Shut up, commies,” who said he moved to Woodstock in 2017, when he attended Woodstock Middle and High schools.
“You know what makes America great? That everybody out here can have differing opinions and be accepted, right?” he said. “So, you won’t see me out here cussing anybody out. You won’t see me out being confrontational with people. I’ll talk to people, but a lot of people are rude to me.”
I had just accused him of seeming confrontational because, when I asked him to say, “Hi, my name is BLANK, I’m from BLANK, and I’m here because BLANK,” he said he was an American who lives in Woodstock.
It struck me as funny because of the rhetoric about paid agitators and anarchists being bused in to disrupt community demonstrations, but the resident wearing a Trump hat said he wanted to remain unnamed.
“I bought this from his Trump Tower in Chicago,” he said. “This is not a political hat.”
I pointed out that the first and, thus far, only person who wanted to stay anonymous — at a public protest — noted the demonstration stayed, “100% peaceful except for the people that yelled at me,” he said.
While he didn’t want to share his name, he shared his perspective on the “no kings thing.”
“If we had a king, this wouldn’t happen,” he said gesturing at the crowd. “Putin doesn’t allow this, right? This doesn’t happen in Iran. It does happen in Israel. It doesn’t happen in Mexico.”
The second person who didn’t want to share her name said she came out with a sign to protest, but didn’t feel safe sharing personal information.
“My husband has just died and I want to make sure my home is secure,” she said. As I shared my condolences, her voice trailed off. “…48 years,” I heard.
Russell Rain took amazing photos with an eye for composition. We chatted with a Woodstock police K-9 officer on the way back to the car. Russell asked about the police rank structure and beamed when he spoke about his Civil Air Patrol service.
We walked down a flight of stairs, found the car and headed the 2 miles back to the house.
