Spencer Overton was one of the over 30,000 people who waited in line to pay their respects to Rosa Parks, whose body was lying in state in the Capital Rotunda on Sunday and Monday. Mrs. Parks was the thirtieth person in US history to be honored this way, the second African American and the first woman.
Professor Overton live blogged his time in procession, and I found his account quite moving.
Sunday evening, 11:15 pm--
I am surprised to find a very long line. The park ranger at the end of the line estimates that we'll be through at about 2 or 3 am. I'm no fan of long lines, but the numbers make me feel hopeful. I’m glad that so many people have shown up. I didn't feel as though there was a lot of media attention to make this a pop phenomenon...the attendance feels genuine....There is a special feeling in this space on this clear, crisp night. On one side the Capitol Rotunda is illuminated. On the other, the Washington Monument is lit up, and beyond that you can make out the columns of the Lincoln Memorial-the spot where Mrs. Parks's young pastor had his finest moment eight years after her act of defiance set in motion his rise to international prominence.
Over half of the people seem to be African Americans of all ages and socioeconomic backgrounds. With regard to these folks, I have the sense of pride that I experienced 10 years ago at the Million Man March. Despite stereotypes of apathy, we have turned out....
1:30 am Monday--We pass a park ranger who estimated our numbers at "tens of thousands." I don't have a clue about the numbers. My part of the line is zig zagging in front of the reflecting pool. The grassy areas that we walk on have become firm, matted-down, mud due to the heavy foot traffic. Thousands still seem to be in front of me, and about 350 behind me (officers closed the line at about 12 midnight).
Perhaps this is wishful thinking, but the sense I get from the conversations in the line is that people are out in relatively large numbers for varied reasons. Some are out to "thank" Rosa Parks for her sacrifice. A larger sense of purpose, however, seems to come from people who are not merely commemorating the past, but who are looking for a constructive way to express their current concerns. From the feel of the evening and the mood, I imagine that these folks might be tired of shallow spin by our "leaders," and recognize the goodness and nobility of average, ordinary people who try to do the right thing but don't seek fame and glory. These are people who are ready to do the "right" thing to ensure that the people like those who were left behind in the aftermath of Katrina are treated like human beings. In other words, the mood that permeates the crowd doesn't seem like hero worship, but much more like an understanding of how Mrs. Parks is connected to our contemporary challenges. This line--this procession of average Americans--seems like an outlet.
(Whole thing.)