All photographs by Gabriele Holterman-Gorden

At 2PM on Wednesday, Foley Square was virtually empty except for a few photographers, union organizers and members of the press, who had arrived early for the planned 4:30 Occupied Wall Street march.

I thought I saw Pete Seeger on the steps of the courthouse, but it was just an old, skinny guy playing the banjo.

By 3:30 the Square was getting crowded. Donna Minkowitz, author of Ferocious Romance: What My Encounters With the Right Taught Me About Sex, God and Fury decided to attend the march after hearing that union members were joining. “I am very angry about what has happened to our country. I want to stand up in social solidarity and dream of a society in which people take care of each other.”

An organizer from UnitedNY.org (above), an advocacy group, addressed a crowd of members in red and black t-shirts:  “We will stay orderly and safe and we will make our voices heard as we march to Zuccotti Park.”

A  fringe group no more, those who gathered at Foley Square on Wednesday afternoon represented all stratums of New York  City life. A true rainbow, it was multi-age, multi-color, multi-class. There were seasoned politicos, as well as those who’d never felt compelled to attend a demonstration.

Reading t-shirts was the best way to discern which groups had decided to take part: National Nurses United, United Federation of Teacher, Transport Workers Union, Communications Workers, The Writers Union, Amalgamated Transit Union, The American Dream Movement,  The Brooklyn Food Coalition, Working Families Party, and many more…

By 4PM, a thick crowd covered the square and even spilled onto the steps of the Thurgood Marshall United States Courthouse, the Supreme Court building, and the US Court of Appeals. Waiting for the march to begin, strangers talked to strangers and friends found each other despite the thick crowd. I overheard a retired Communication Workers of America member talking to a young Verizon worker. “Bloomberg has turned New York into a haven for the super rich. I grew up in Soho and I can’t afford to live here. I can’t even afford to get lunch here.”

Ed Schultz, the msnbc pundit and star of The Ed Show, attracted a devoted crowd of union workers, to whom he is a hero, as he joined the march. The author of  Killer Politics: How Big Money and Bad Politics Are Destroying the Great American Middle Class, Schultz shook hands and talked to reporters.

A man carrying a flag of the Corporate United States explained that he bought the flag, an American flag with corporate logos instead of stars, online for $30.

“I just want to live on an organic farm,” I overheard a college student telling a middle-aged man.  “I hope there will be a planet when you get older,” the man told the student.

China Daily was on hand interviewing a student at the march about why she was there: “Everyone should have enough. Everyone should have what they need. Corporations got bailed out, but what is happening to our democracy. We need job creation. Students are graduating with huge debts. We need healthcare for everyone.”

The signs said it all: We are the 99%; This is the first time I’ve felt hopeful in a long time; Fairness and Integrity; The People are too big to fail; 99%>1; Compassion is the new gold standard; I feel hope…

I stopped Reverend Billy for a quick quote as he sauntered through the crowd in his trademark white clerical suit: “We are where all revolutionaries before us have been. We don’t know where we are, we don’t know what’s ahead. It’s a nice place to be and I’m very happy,” he told me.

At 4:30, Foley Square was claustrophobically crowded as people streamed south from Center Street and from nearby side streets, including students and faculty from CUNY.

Union representatives and politicians speechified on a stage on the south side Foley Square. An African-American singer improvised slogans she asked the crowd to repeat: “Standing tall and looking good, we ought to be in Hollywood.”

Finally, when it came time to march, the crowd was too big to move. Many felt penned in as the police waited to open the barricades, which would allow the crowd to move.

Not one to be penned in, I walked with difficulty to the edge of the crowd and insisted that a cop allow me and a woman with a sleeping child to get out onto Center Street. He had to consult with his white shirted superior and finally let us out. Liberated, we were “allowed” to stand on Duane Street, which was uncrowded.

From across the street, I could see that people were getting angry at the police for keeping them penned in. The demonstrators should have been informed by organizers how they would be funneled down Center Street. Information would have gone a long way towards making people feel safe, comfortable and less angry.

Slowly, the crowd was funnelled from different parts of Foley Square down Center Street and right onto Chambers Street past the Tweed Courthouse. It was slow going until the crowd reaced Broadway.

Once on Broadway, the march really hit its stride; people were peaceful, joyful, enthusiastic to be there and very vocal.  A carnival atmosphere with a serous message, the streets were bursting with a kalediscope of agendas. Every few feet there was a different refrain by a different group of marchers.

We’re here; we’re queer; we’re fabulous; don’t fuck with us!”

A trumpet player tooted along with “The people united will never be defeated.”

“This is what democracy looks like.”

At Park Place, I ran into some friends, who told me excitedly that the crowd was 20,000 strong. I later heard the number estimated at 15,000. Phyllis Stern a middle aged editor and writer, stood on the sidelines watching the stream of New Yorkers go  by: “I feel inspired, I feel invigorated. I grew up as an activist but it’s been a while since I’ve seen people out here. My heart is here.”

An attractive older woman walked up to us. She was wearing a lace covering on her face. “I am a fashionable terrorist,” she said and handed me a poem:

Resist

with altruism, alone and all together

bravely, boldy

creatively, conscientiously, constantly

with devotion, determination

daily…

On the subway ride home, a 19-year old student from Polytechnic NYU held a “We are the 99%” sign. He seemed invigorated. “So glad to be part of something like the 1960’s, the protests against the Vietnam War. It’s going to get bigger,” he told me.