The Redhunter

The weather was beautiful, in the mid 60s. Quite a nice break from the freezing temperatures that we've endured these past several months. If you go through my last few Walter Reed posts you'll see we're dressed as if for a blizzard. However, it was still too windy to deploy the MOAB - Mother Of All Banners, so we just put up our usual half-dozen flags

Here are a few more photos of some of the patriots who turned out to support the troops. These two held down one of the corners beside the main entrance, opposite to the folks in the photo above.

Here are the folks on another corner

Here are my friends from New Jersey again. Kieran is in the foreground, with daughter Haley and son Michael beside him. Linda is hidden behind our many signs

Throughout all this we always get lots of honks and waves from people in their cars. Last night it seemed like we got more than we usually got, the warm weather probably being the biggest factor. Every now and then someone will shout "bring them home!" or something like that but they are few and don't matter. But I also have to think that since we've been doing this so long that most of the drivers recognize us and are ready with their honks and waves.

Messing with Code Pink

Now that the pinkos are halfway down the street we usually just ignore them. But since I had the camera out anyway I decided to head down there and take some photos.

My first trip down there was on the opposite side of the street to where they were. Although there was no light to stop cars, I thought if I took enough time and timed it right I might get in a decent shot or so. Since it was dark the shutter has to stay open a bit longer than usual, and there's a delay anyway with digital cameras, so night shots are always a challenge.

Wouldn't you know it though, no sooner had I gotten my tripod set up with one of their leaders jaywalks across the street to confront me.

"You can't come down this far!" she says when she gets to my side.

"Really?" I said as aimed my camera at the pinkos across the street.

"We have an agreement with your leaders that you aren't to come down this far" she continued

"Well, call the cops" I replied. "None of you are on this side anyway, so what do you care?" I have no idea if she was telling the truth or not about any "arrangement", and I didn't care. She didn't produce a permit and never called the police. I did get a nice shot of her, though.

"Smile!" I said

She didn't.

Then she tried to block my view of her group, but didn't do a very good job

Enough was enough. I got the photo, so headed back.

However, a few minutes later I saw one of our party heading down on the other side of the street to photo the pinkos. I decided to join her.

Wouldn't you know but we were serenaded by their hippie guitar player. He played "America the Beautiful" I think.

What it's Really All About

Enough about Code Pink. They're irrelevant now that we've chased them off.

The troops in the hospital know full well what goes on outside every Friday night. I know this because I've spoken with enough of them, as in addition to this I and some others pay regular visits to the hospital where we bring them treats and things like books, videos, and the like.

Further, every Friday a busload of the recovering troops is taken to an upscale Washington DC restaurant called Fran O'Briens at 9:30ish. We wave and shout and they wave back at us. It's a tough situation they're in, and most seem so young. But we've all got to do our part, and this is the least I can do.

Last night the bus came before I had my camera ready, so here's a photo from a previous night