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Jazz Funeral for Democracy

By Ward Reilly

The antiwar effort of south Louisiana shone brightly on January 20, 2005: Counter-Inauguration Day in New Orleans.

Over fifteen hundred proud antiwar activists—from as far away as Washington, Wisconsin, New Jersey, New York, and Florida—joined hands on a beautiful winter day to condemn the $40,000,000 inaugural orgy of King "Curious George" Bush and "Little Dick" Cheney, two men considered to be war criminals by those in attendance. They partied hard while our troops were dying hard in their illegal war.

What started out as an off-the-cuff remark turned into one of the best antiwar, anti-administration demonstrations in the country. It was a unique event in the history of US activism, using a traditional New Orleans jazz funeral as the vehicle of protest. We were there to "bury" the war and our civil liberties, and to burn the USA PATRIOT Act.

The demonstration started in Louie Armstrong Park, where fifteen hundred "Jazz Funeral for Democracy: A Wake for Peace" pins (designed and made by Andy Lehman, Megan Bronson and me) were handed out to the first to arrive. Pictures of these can be seen on our website (www.jazzfuneralfordemocracy.com), which was produced by Michael Goff and received more than 10,000 hits in the two weeks prior to the event.

Ward Reilly speaks at the Jazz Funeral for Democarcy

After a few speakers, many media interviews, and generally organizing everybody into position, the somber crowd marched very slowly (a jazz funeral tradition) down Rampart Street, led by principal organizers Buddy Spell, his wife Annie, and their daughter Sarah, who was being towed in a classic red wagon. They were followed by members of Vietnam Veterans Against the War; Veterans For Peace; the Baton Rouge Coalition for Alternatives to the War on Iraq (CAWI); New Orleans Conscience, Concern, and Commitment (C3); and Code Pink.

Behind the lead group came the Constitution All-Star Band, with the famed Trémé Brass Band taking up a position by the horse-drawn hearse (complete with casket), both bands dressed in traditional mourning finery. They were followed by the huge contingent of protesters: lovely ladies in black holding decorated umbrellas (another jazz funeral tradition) made by Jennifer Shaw, and men in black suits or blue jeans. Of course, hundreds of antiwar, anti-Bush, and anti-USA PATRIOT Act posters, banners and signs were everywhere.

Off we went at eleven AM sharp, as Bush and Cheney took the oath of office, swearing again to uphold the constitution of our nation—something they have yet to do.

The crowd gathered strength along the way, and many local jazz musicians joined in along the route. We turned onto Canal Street, the heart of New Orleans and its main street downtown, where even the street cars desired to slow down and look at this proud moment in Louisiana history unfolding. We marched past Bourbon Street and turned left toward Jackson Square, where we had a permit to set up.

Other bands that marched or played at the street party following the jazz funeral—organized by Marine Vietnam-era vet and certified madman, "Sheik" Richardson—included Kostini, Paula and the Pontiacs, the Panorama Brass Band, Leigh "Little Queenie" Harris, God's Little Toy, Otra, and Christina Friis and Sam Price.

Many thanks to all of them, and to the more than forty groups that officially endorsed the event, including Raging Grannies, Pax Christi, Artists and Writers for Peace, the Noomoon Tribe, and United For Peace and Justice, to name just a few.

The New Orleans police, as has been their way since we started marching against the war in Iraq in 2002, handled the traffic and crowd in perfect cooperation, making the entire action flow with ease and keeping it problem-free.

Our action was in stark contrast to the $40,000,000 police-state-looking orgy of decadence the Bush gang produced. In Washington, there were snipers on every roof, and soldiers were forced to stand every twenty feet along the main route as shields for our "brave" president. Visitors were subject to several searches before having to get behind metal or plastic barriers for the privilege of watching a pitiful excuse for a president ride by, gazing from his little twelve-inch window. The scene looked more like an old Kremlin film clip than it did anything that used to happen in my country.

Donna Bassin, a psychologist and PTSD expert, came all the way from New Jersey to film part of a documentary as part of a continuing study on the effects of the current political situation on vets and the effect this war is having on Vietnam-era vets.

The AP, UPI, and several radio stations and magazines also covered the event, the Baton Rouge Advocate gave the demonstration a half-page article and a great photo, and the New Orleans Times-Picayune did a piece. CBS and ABC also covered us locally, and we were shown in both Baton Rouge and New Orleans in a completely positive way.

Bob Smith, a retired command sergeant major, three-combat-tour Vietnam Green Beret and VVAW member, emceed the event. VFP member Dennis Kyne, a Desert Storm vet and depleted uranium expert; Kathy Kelly of Voices in the Wilderness (always an inspirational speaker); and Avery Friend, a thirteen-year-old activist from south Louisiana (of whom we are especially proud), joined me in speaking to a very appreciative crowd.

Arthur Morrell, a Special Forces Green Beret veteran and Louisiana senatorial candidate, also spoke; as did Mabili Ajani Oguniyi, a man who has spent the last decade as a radio revolutionary in Tampa Bay, Florida. Also speaking were Mike Howell and Marty Roland of the New Orleans antiwar group C3.

At one point, for one long minute, the entire crowd stood in silence with fingers raised high in the peace sign, in honor of all that have been killed or injured by the disasters in Iraq and Afghanistan. It was, without question, the most moving part of the event for me.

Grey Hawk, of the Louisiana Houma tribe, gave a beautiful prayer in his native tongue, and we felt particularly honored that many Native Americans joined us that day in solidarity against those who would destroy our nation.

The end of this portion of our action at Jackson Square came as Marty Roland of C3 ripped up the USA PATRIOT Act and symbolically burned it. We then threw its ashes into the mighty Mississippi River.

We ended that fine day, in true New Orleans fashion, with a street party that lasted until late in the evening, at the Blue Nile club, one of several that had offered their space to us.

I only wish that all antiwar citizens could have been in attendance, because peace and love, in the name of sanity—and with a sense of urgency in trying to save our nation—ruled this day. It was only a success because enough citizens of this country still care enough to stand up for what is right: something that made all that were there feel very good inside.

The constitution and the Bill of Rights might not be dead, but they need CPR now, or the next jazz funeral for democracy might be sooner than we think ... and for real.