WTO 10th Anniversary | Tell us your memories of the WTO

I had gone downtown the morning of November 30 to photograph the protest. I was fortunate to see it as it really was before it became the police action it is remembered as. The following is an excerpt from a letter I wrote to a friend on December 3, 1999. It can be read in its entirety, accompanied by photographs, at http://cojourn.net

They turned downtown into one, big protest party. A van in the center of it blared music as the crowd was entertained by dancers and jugglers. There were people dressed up in costumes designed as satires of money-hungry fat-cats eating cash and caressing the planet as their own precious commodity.

A human chain was formed around the hotel where the meeting was to take place. Delegates pushed their way through the crowd while protesters chanted slogans and threw fake money at them. The human chain stood their ground and wouldn’t let any of the delegates through.

I thought things were going to turn violent when one delegate tried to shove a large drag queen out of the way and the drag queen shoved him back. The cries of “peaceful protest,” however, prevailed.

Meanwhile, faceless storm troopers, dressed in riot gear and brandishing batons were set to toe the line, hold the perimeter, and keep the mob contained. As word of the cops’ various locations came in to the party around the white van, which operated as the protest’s central nervous system, a woman with a megaphone directed the crowd to meet them head on and sit down in front of them to keep them at bay. The police were perceived as a threat to the movement. At any moment they could march in, brutalize their way through the crowd, break the human chain, and escort the delegates to their meeting.

At these standoffs, there were a few troublemakers, filled with the thrill of the power of the people, who disregarded the peaceful nature of the sit-downs, and verbally antagonized the police. The police did not respond to the insults and threats, not that I had seen.

Then came the reports of tear gas being used at another standoff. By the time I found the scene of the melee, it was over. There were people streaming tears, and pouring bottled water into their eyes.

I was only 16 yrs. old when the protests happend. I was working at a local neighborhood QFC after school during the week of the protest and a bunch of my high school buddies wanted to go downtown to join the protest -- they said it'd be fun and it would be like going to a big party downtown. I thought about going, but after seeing the clubbing and tear gas on the news, I decided to watch the happenings on TV. I know Ch. 9 is doing a 10 year anniversary doc later this month, so that should be interesting to watch.

It was the day the world as I knew it went mad. Bus transportation was halted. All I knew is that I wanted to get out of downtown as the masses were all coming into the streets that afternoon. I walked to the express lanes near the Columbia Tower Bldg. and stuck out my thumb. It didn't matter to me that hitchhiking was/is dangerous. All hell was breaking loose. I am forever grateful to the man that stopped and gave me a ride to my door. And to recall the feeling "There's no place like home".

I was in a group of several dozen members of the Air Line Pilots Association (ALPA). We attended a rally of several thousand union members at Memorial Stadium, then proceeded to march toward the Convention Center. It was a bit surreal, with all of us in our dark uniforms, in formation, surrounded by other protesters wearing an amazing variety of homemade costumes.

As we approached downtown one of the many police officers lining the route advised us of the turmoil ahead. We were hoping to get close enough to be noticed, and perhaps interviewed by the media. But, being pilots, trained throughout our careers to avoid dangerous situations, we decided that getting involved in a brawl was not the wisest course for us. We returned to our buses and departed.

All in all, it was a very memorable experience.

The first event was a get together at First and Goal held the night before the first big meeting. They had laid a very nice northwest buffet in that big giant slug of a building. There were vendors from all over the northwest plying the attendees with prawns, northwest beers and wines, salmon of all kinds, apples, beef, cheeses, you name it, and only about twenty percent of the attendees showed. So when the event organizers decided that the party was over they invited the media crews and police security to come in and eat. As we were hoovering the buffet I asked a cop “Why don’t we invite the protesters, you might have less trouble with them if they’re fed.” He thought that might be a good idea and talked with the event coordinator.

About fifteen minutes later that same cop went to the cage where the last group of protesters was dwindling away and asked if they could behave themselves. Once they knew why they readily agreed, and in a few minutes we were all gathered around the twelve foot prawn tree drinking beer and relating our views and experiences. As it turned out most of us had the same views on the issues, where we differed was how to solve them. It was a very peaceful and thoughtful discussion, and it all went to hell the next day.

On the way to work the next morning I was riding my motorcycle north bound on the viaduct and my face started burning. I thought that was odd and when I got to work I tried washing it of but it only made it burn worse, I finely got whatever it was off my face (turned out to be mace). After I got to my desk I found out what was happening. We went to the convention center latter that day to cover another meeting, and it was a zoo. My friend, Mark, was already there and had told me that I might want to bring my helmet. KCTS was contracted by PBS to feed some material to the network and I was the satellite truck guy. I packed up the sat truck and headed to the convention center. We waded the truck through the throng of protesters and police to the secure area they had set aside for media trucks. The rest of the day was punctuated by sirens, tear gas shots, and chants. We fed the network our pieces and struck the truck to leave.
By that time the protest had dissolved into the full on riot that we saw at the end of the day. The cops held us for about an hour in the cage until they thought it was safe for us to leave.

Even then we took a couple of pounds to the side of the truck and a bottle or two. The streets of Seattle looked like a riot had taken place. There were clothes, signs, leaflets, and trash of all kinds strewn everywhere. I saw a few protesters, looking shell shocked, walking away from downtown. After I got to the station I checked the news to see if my rout home would be safe. I take a ferry home, and it appeared that the rout I take from the station to the ferry dock was clear. It was and I went home.

The next day we learned what had happened the first day, and the protesters were much more contained at that day’s events that I was present for.

My husband (a firefighter/paramedic) mentioned that he was going to the Union gathering at Memorial Stadium, so I took a vacation day from work and tagged along. We were accompanied by a local (Bremerton) filmmaker who shot some great footage, later used in a video for the Fire Department. Anyhow, on our way from the ferry terminal to the Center, we crossed paths with KOMO-4 news anchor Dan Lewis, who made some disparaging remarks about protestors -- but his hair was perfect! The stadium was packed, and we listened to some excellent speechifyin' (and saw Will Durst in the crowd), then we marched downtown, merging with many other dissidents like farmers and the turtle-people. By then it was about 2:30, and we decided to catch the 3:00 ferry back to Bainbridge. On our walk back to the terminal we saw all the cops in riot gear on Second Ave. -- scary! And of course it got a lot worse later on ... but I'm still glad that we were there, and part of Seattle's history as a free-thinking and progessive city.

The day before I had never heard of the WTO, so I went on the internet to check out why anyone had any problems with it. There were lots of reasons, but for me it was the way it could trump any individual nation's autonomy in the name of trade. It just appeared to be another venue for corporations to take over governments.

The protest was vast and overwhelming and mostly peaceful, then eventually turned ugly, and I decided to be done with it after the first day.

But the following day I saw the local news was mischaracterising, mocking, and demonizing protestors. Then I'd heard the mayor had declared a "protest free" zone. I was mad at the news, mad at the mayor, and now mad at my country. My mind had changed and I was going to join the protest again.

The crowds had whittled down to die hard protestors who were there for the right reasons, and was completely peaceful this time. But the police force was determined and reckless. The completely illegal no protest zone meant nothing. Police had met protestors outside the zone with teargas - shooting cannisters into traffic near the pike place market where innocent bystanders who had nothing to do with the protest got nailed.

If you've ever had the pleasure of being tear gassed: it irritates your eyes so that you can't keep them open, and makes you cough and gag. By the end of the day I had gotten used to it.

Eventually, I decided to go home, but was rounded up by police with a few other protestors on 1st and broad. We were thrown on buses, and eventually taken to jail.

Seattle didn't know how to handle so many people, so we were not given due process - held without charge, then eventually charges were made up, then nearly all charges were dropped, and we sued the city as part of a class action suit. The protestors won the suit. It was a small victory.

It was a blueprint for many protests to come.

I worked at gameworks which was closed all week.... nothing to do and fortunate enough to have a gas mask i managed to join in on most of the fun. Most memorable was SPD chasing a few dozen "anarchists" up pine during the day lobbing teargas everywhere and in the door of a place or to. Following the "evil anarchists" down broadway. Unreal the chaos the police caused resulting in a majority of the neighborhood out in force, at least a thousand or two, angered and teary eyed from the ignorant stupidity of SPD and marching on the police station on the hill.

More shocking then anything was how the mainstream news outlets warped and misinformed people about what was going on. But hey i was only 20... i've learned.