Car Caravan

My friend Donna Hayes has multiple risk factors for Covid-19. She is the grandmother of Moose Quanice Hayes, who was killed by Portland Police in 2017. He was unarmed, on his knees, with his hands in the air, according to the police report. The report says he had a toy gun and they feared for their lives. His family said he didn't own a toy gun, and if he had one, he would never have pulled it out while surrounded by seventeen armed policemen. Like me and many others, Donna has been frustrated by not being able to join the Black Lives Matter protests because of Covid-19, but unlike me, she created a novel way to participate. 

She and her friend Jill have organized a twice-weekly car caravan, meeting every Wednesday and Friday evening, and driving a different route each time, safely inside their cars with signs and megaphones and car horns. It's not great for the environment to have all these cars driving slowly around town, but you have to weigh your options, and Donna weighs hers on the side of speaking out.

Last night we had over 200 cars in the caravan, and this time the caravan route took a two-and-a-half hour (very slow) drive in order to pass the home of Donna's daughter, Moose's mom, Venus. I stopped when we reached Venus' house and got out of the car to make photos of Venus (see Extra) and the passing caravan. Because there were so many cars, it took more than ten minutes just for them to drive past Venus as she stood waving, sometimes smiling and sometimes crying. 

I didn't finish processing the photos till after midnight, so I feel it's OK to post them on this day. I made over 200 photos, and I chose to blip this one for the theme of solidarity. All along the route, people waved their fists, smiled, shouted "Black Lives Matter," or, if they were in their own cars, blew their horns. It felt like the whole city was with us. Even if that was a delusion, it felt terrific. Moose's grandmother and great-grandmother were in the lead car, fists raised out the windows, smiles beaming.

If you'd like to see the signs and the cars individually, and more of the family, there's a full album here. 

Note: I leave tomorrow with Sue for a week in Yachats, in the little cottage her father built for his family in the 70s. It's in a cell phone dead zone, and there's no wifi. I used to sometimes to go a coffee shop to upload photos there, but I understand Covid-19 closure has affected the coffee shop, and it may not be open. So there may be a week-long gap in blips from me. Don't worry. I'm resting.