Nipping at Their Heels; Will the Dog Bite?

approx. 5:50 PM, October 29, downtown Denver

 The day started out pretty tame as I worked my way around downtown Denver for a seasonal event.  The event itself proved to be wholesome clean fun which left me for a taste of a little Schadenfreude at the expense of the Occupy Denver crowd. After leaving last Saturday Night (see earlier blog, “Eagle Force Five, You Have Failed Us Again’)  the political assembly of protestors left me with very little hope for their cause. In that short amount of time a recent eruption in Oakland California has fanned new life into a lot of city movements throughout the U.S. so I felt I should look in on the Denver crowds and see what’s developed.

 Once again I parked my inconspicuous car away from the heart of it all. My car is a pretty Joe Average looking vehicle which is just the way I like it. Takes interest off me while I’m driving around town with some of the monsters I associate myself with.  I walked down to Colfax and Broadway, on to the line in the sand that separated police and angry mob. Before I made it all the way into the heart of the crowd I could see a much greater police presence that last week in the middle of the street. More than one hundred officers stood in the middle of the road, traffic completely blocked off. Squad cars created a barrier to prevent anyone from coming into the road and pedestrians were redirected around the park.  Well this looked serious I thought. The swarm of those waving signs of corruption had grown to a noticeable number and now I heard the voice of a bullhorned rebel spewing venom at the line of police men and women. He was giving a pretty good line of ass chew to the cops which made me wonder if something had sparked this more noticeable aggravation in the crowd. I left the bullhorn there on the east side of the street and headed over to the other side where the small nylon tent village had been settled by the political zombies. A couple weeks ago they had been driven off and relocated in the park across from the capital.

 I walked over and begin milling around the crowd to gather the latest. I managed to fall in on some guys talking about some protestor who had been shot out of a tree. This perked my interest so I wandered up close and asked to see the phone video footage they had taken of the event. The video showed a blonde haired guy displaying large bleeding welts on his arm where the police had shot him. His story was that while up in the tree earlier today the police had come through the park an began to tear down tents and hit the crowd with pepper spray and gas. They ordered him out of the tree and before he could make it down they shot him with some nasty crowd control invention that left him with a bleeding arm. He was able to run back into the obscurity of the large crowd of protestors; not that he need fear prosecution because he broke no law. I wondered though. I’m sure had he been within arms’ reach they probably could have drummed up something to at least detain him. This sounded a bit more promising to me. Maybe this protesting dog was beginning to grow some teeth. I spoke with a few more people attending and found out that the police had lost their cool earlier and may have gotten a bit out of hand. The one damning thing Denver’s Finest had working against them was the electronic age we live in where every Joe and his mother have a cell phone camera/video recorder so a lot of people had records of the earlier incident. I spoke to a gentleman in a wheelchair who was having some difficulties talking with me. He still had a good dose of pepper spray hanging inside his lungs. I spoke with a protestor who had come up from Colorado Springs which had a pretty successful rally against their city, wounds still visible on his head. More than the typical street urchin zombies I had grown accustomed to seeing down here. Now the park had sprung alive with war vets and elderly couples, foreigners and tourists milling around the crowd and tents wondering what was going to happen.

  “Better get ready” the guy in the wheelchair coughed. “They’re getting ready to do something again.”

 “The cops?” I asked.

 “yeah” he said and now I did notice more movement from within the ranks of the line of officers. The upper guys in charge were pacing up and down the line and gas guns were being loaded. Not long after that gas masks were being donned and you could see the police were readying themselves for a bit of crackdown. I needed to prepare myself for what was to come.


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