Solemn Vigil

The National Day of Labor Organizing (NDLON) held a Silent Vigil on Saturday to honor Lorenzo Salgado Araujo and Johan Sebastian Guerrero. According to their website the public is encouraged to:

Community members gathered in vigil

Photos honoring Lorenzo and Johan

Candles, flowers, and memorial displays

Day laborers, faith leaders, and immigrant rights advocates

Signs calling for justice, truth, and accountability

I went to the event at the Courthouse in New London CT.

The ‘Community Members’ gathered at 10 almost exactly, (most  left at five after eleven)

There was one photo there that may have been one of those men, but the front and center photos, on hand held placards, were of Renee Good and Alex Pretti. 

There were no candles, no memorial displays, no flowers. 

There were plenty of immigration rights advocates present, but day laborers and especially faith leaders were nowhere  to be found. 

Signs calling for justice, truth and accountability were not visible. There were hand written signs saying Ice Out, Ice Murderers, that kind of thing. One lady apparently only had one sign in her woke woodshed, and showed up to a Silent Vigil with a sign that said, I Did Not Stand Silent. 

The demographics of the 40 or so people assembled were, to say the least, homogenous. Age, race and net worth all in pretty confined statistical space. At one point, a middle aged black lady walking slowly through the crowd., gave, for about 45 seconds, a legitimate hope for a token participant, but she was on her way to Fiddleheads. 

I watched the entire hour from the wooden bench in front of Fiddleheads. I think some of them suspected I was a counter protestor. They eyed me with uncharitable looks from time to time. 

Charity was not present in front of the New London Courthouse on Saturday. 

Vigil, I hope, is a word that evokes a certain solemnity and honor. And most certainly, when we  think of a Silent Vigil we speak of respectful silence. This was not that.

Everyone, and I made sure to look at each, everyone chatted. In small groups, a few couples who may have been in any of a dozen domestic conversations by their postures. But they were not–absolutely not–honoring Lorenzo or Juan.  As for Pretti and Renee I probably spent more time thinking about them as individuals than the entire assembled woke body. (Although my somber thoughts about their loss, which is real in the cosmological sense, were balanced by what knuckheads they were while here)

There was no invocation at the start, no central wall of photos or memorabilia, no candles. Just chatty woke white wealthy liberals doing what they do. 

As for silent, many stayed at the edge of the sidewalk, waving their hands and encouraging passing cars to honk in support. One wokie made a gesture like pumping car horn and leaning on it. No doubt a live action she’s repeated a thousand times, probably with a rape whistle blaring from her lips.  That is, they stayed on the sidewalk edge and in front of the courthouse until the 11:30 sun drove them to spend the rest of the vigil in the comfort of the shade trees handy there. All bunched together under the shade, their signs and American flags bumping in the close quarters. 

Apparently, the intense physical and psychological trauma of an illegal on the run can’t be sympathized with and endured  in public penance to the extent of mild sunburn. 

At one point toward the end, I was tempted to cross the street and engage with them. What if, despite your humanist atheist mindset, what if Renne and Alex and Lorenzo and Jaun, what if their disembodied selves  were present at this ‘vigil’? . What if they hovered round, exchanging telepathic affirmations about the tribute they were to hear, how much they were respected and loved as martyrs to the cause. And heard and saw and felt not one human reaching across the divide with a kind thought. Only fearful, self centered and bitter thoughts allowed. 

The Woke movement is Gloria Stein’s Oakland: There is no there there.