A sea of dissatisfaction swept through downtown New Orleans shortly after noon Thursday Watch video
A sea of dissatisfaction swept through downtown New Orleans shortly after noon Thursday.
Hundreds of people, young and old, black and white, marched with signs held high and slogans spewing. It was a disjointed group: upbeat, angry, courteous, displeased, but united in unhappiness with the current economic and political climate. If there was a singular message shared among the masses, it centered on a simple idea: The status quo has got to go.
The "Occupy NOLA" protest and march was one of dozens of social actions held recently across the country, offshoots of a larger ongoing demonstration on Wall Street in New York City.
People gathered about noon outside the Orleans Parish criminal-justice complex at Tulane Avenue and Broad Street. The swell started slowly, from dozens of activists to more than 100 people. There were the usual gadflies and familiar faces from City Council meetings and other public arenas. They shouted for the New Orleans police chief's ouster, decried the parish prison, deplored police brutality.
College students, visitors, anarchists, Marxists, socialists and adherents to other ideologies turned out. One gentleman wore a placard with a photo of legendary Louisiana Gov. Huey Long alongside the caption: "Huey was right."
Nearby, a sign declared "End the Fed." Another announced "Taxation is theft." Yet another called strictly for "Fair taxation." There were folks in suits and ties mingled with malodorous youths who wore patches with political missives.
A contingent of New Orleans police motorcycle officers shut down Tulane Avenue and cleared the way for the protesters. The group stretched about a football field long and walked briskly down the empty street. There were bullhorns up front and brass horns in the back, and the procession had a second-line feel to it.
Calvin Quinn walked alone in silence with a slight smile on his face. Quinn, a 63-year-old retired public school teacher from Slidell, said he was encouraged by what he saw.
"It takes people to change things," he noted. Quinn, clad in a polo shirt and loafers, said he believes corporations control politicians. He despises "Republicans and punk-ass Democrat sellouts," and said this country is no longer the democracy it's supposed to be.
Quinn and hundreds of others walked past the empty lots making up the footprint for the planned hospital complex, past men in hardhats who gawked at them. Farther down the street, medical professionals in green scrubs snapped cell phone photos, some giving a thumbs-up. The protest passed the main branch of the library, slowed near City Hall and turned onto Poydras Street. There, among the skyscrapers, onlookers in suits and starched shirts seemed less receptive.
The march slowed as it approached Lafayette Square, a patch of grass sandwiched between the Federal Reserve building and the federal courthouse. Estimates from cops and marchers alike put the crowd's size at roughly 400.
A bullhorn was passed around among people who climbed up the steps of a monument in the square. One woman thanked the "boys and ladies in blue" for helping the march go off without a hitch. A bearded man in a ballcap garnered cheers when he said the country's wealth is controlled only by a few, "while the rest of us get beat down." "The system doesn't work," he said. He added that he doesn't plan to vote.
A patchwork of political speeches, with disparate messages, continued, interspersed with poems and other declarations.
At one point, a woman, standing steps from a man holding a sign that read, "Don't follow leaders," announced that the protest would be moving to Duncan Plaza, across from City Hall. Some people vowed to encamp and sleep in the plaza to practice "true democracy." And about an hour later, Lafayette Square was empty. The anger, the protest, the bullhorns had moved on.
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Brendan McCarthy can be reached at bmccarthy@timespicayune.com or 504.826.3301.