The other day I was headed home to my apartment in Chicago. It was a Friday and people were happy not only because it was the last day of their work week, it was also reasonably warm, something we all look forward to in Chicago around March.


I headed down to the underground platform to wait for my train, a place usually cold and damp, to find about twenty-five other folks waiting there. People do not talk very much to each other in Chicago, despite our commonalities. The people here are more content to get home and be with their friends and family than to take up conversations with unknown people on the "l" train.


It is not unusual that someone is playing an instrument on these platforms and this night there was an older man strumming tunes from the 50's and 60's down there. In between screeching trains people listened in their own way, some young white folks occasionally giving the guy some change. After ten minutes of waiting for my train, the man began to play, "what's going on?" by Marvin Gaye. For the folks unfamiliar with it, the song was written in the 60's here in the states and is a motown antiwar tune. Here are the lyrics:


Mother, mother
There's too many of you crying
Brother, brother, brother
There's far too many of you dying
You know we've got to find a way
To bring some lovin' here today


Father, father
We don't need to escalate
War is not the answer
For only love can conquer hate
You know you've got to find a way
To bring some understanding yeah today


Aw, picket lines, picket signs
Don't punish me with brutality
Talk to me so you can see
Oh what's going on,
Tell me what's going on


Mother, mother
Ev'ry body thinks we're wrong
Baby who are they to judge us
Cause our hair is long
You know we've got to find a way
To bring some understanding here today


Good God


An odd thing occurred on the platform as the man sang. I found myself smiling and nodding my head toward him in approval of his song choice. The war in Iraq had just become one year old and nearly 600 Americans and untold Iraqis lay killed in its path. This action on my part would not have been any different, however, until I noticed that nearly all of the other folks waiting on the platform with me were starting to smile and clap to the song. A few people even showed some signs of dancing that is normally nowhere to
be found on the train until 1 or 2 am.


The man wound through his song and people noticed that we were all feeling his music in the same way. It became clear to me that what we were all doing was more than enjoying the tune, we were all expressing our opposition to this terrible war. It became contagious and people glanced at each other with smiles and nods throughout the song. When it ended nearly the entire platform gave the man applause as my train pulled up and opened its doors.
It was such a rare moment. People filed onto the train smiling and joking with each other and genuinely having a good time. I don�t think I have made so much eye contact with people on the train in years. We were all reassured to know that every one there, regardless of what part of the city we came from, agreed at some level that this war was wrong. The togetherness flowing from this fact opened people up to each other in a way that is nearly never seen on the train.


Chicagoans do not often have solidarity for each other. We are conservative to an extent and work so hard it is difficult to even come up with a smile for one another. It was there that night, though, and I can�t really describe the feeling. I guess it was the smallest glimpse of what a real movement would feel like, one where the crowds simply walking down the street can look onto each other and know that we are on the same side. I don1t mean to romanticize what occurred, but if people saw the laughter and warmth taking place in that moment they would have seen a real relation of people that normally is almost non existent here in chicago. It was heartfelt and made my entire weekend.


It was one more example of growing antiwar sentiment in the United States.


Cliff Willmeng March 2004