We walked from the park to the Y 12 plant. It was very hot, like in melt-your-face-off hot. Most of the locals waved, some yelled at us. Most of the police looked friendly, some did not. I went to the fence and put my card on there (tied with yarn) and then I went back to the shade. A policewomen said we had to go to the other side of the street (the sunny side) where they had the drummers and most of the marchers. I headed back to the cars that were to take us back to the original car, and now I am in air-conditioned heaven, I mean library. I am waiting for my travel mates to come back here, to head on home.
One of the things we did at the Y-12 plant was paint the outlines of people to symbolize the people who died in the nuclear bombings. This was painted on the street with cornstarch, so it is not damaging at all. I painted a baby.
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