PROTESTING
FOR
Year after year, a group of old friends gathers each week for peace in downtown Eugene. Written by Kendall Porter | Photographed by Natalie Myking | Illustrated by Lynette Slape
W
alking up to the Eugene Public Library location downtown on a Saturday afternoon, the colorful flags held by a small group of protesters are almost immediately noticeable. Young children exiting the library hand-in-hand with their parents look mesmerized by the fluttering bright colors and crane their necks for better views of the spectacle. The designs range from a satellite view of Earth to a full-spectrum rainbow, but all carry the message of the phrase emblazoned on the side of the latter: peace. The protestors talk amongst themselves, covering a range of topics from politics to the daily happenings in their lives. Some of them dress up for the occasion, donning a sock monkey button-up (that, it was noted, may have been intended as pajamas) or heart sunglasses. When it rains, they huddle under the library’s awning, but they start parading around the street corner once the sun comes out, holding up signs and striking up conversations. Standing outside the library every Saturday from 12 p.m. to 1 p.m. has become a part of their weekly routine. They’ve been doing it for the past 20 years. The group of demonstrators does not have an official name, but it does have a long-established presence in the community of Eugene. The vigil first started in 2002 in protest of the bombings of Afghanistan after September 11, 2001, Trudy Maloney, a long-time protestor, says. In the beginning, the vigil was led by Peg Morton, a name that comes up frequently when talking to the group, although she has since passed. 42 | ETHOS | SUMMER 2022
Their focus has shifted over the past two decades, but their call for peace has remained the same. “We’re just a bunch of old hippies who haven’t given up yet,” Julie Lambert, the “baby” of the group, says. While they know that they can’t change what’s going on in the world, Ed Necker says being there — outside the library each week — is something they can do. The group end’s each vigil with a repeated mantra that they adapted from a Buddhist prayer: May all beings be happy. May all beings be well. May all beings be safe. May all beings be free. Peace, peace, peace. Trudy, 73, remembers when she and Peg stood outside the Federal Building twice a week, every week. Numbers slowly dwindled from the larger demonstrations until it was just the two of them. “In the beginning, people would yell at me, spit at me,” Trudy says. “My father told me, ‘Stand up for what you believe in, even if you stand alone.’” In those days after September 11, 2001, Trudy says, peace was not on people’s lists. After Peg got arrested during a different demonstration, a semi-frequent occurrence in her life, Trudy followed through on her father’s words. She stood alone.
