Washington for Jesus rally, April 29, 1980
By Ron Huber

So far, the scanty coverage the Washington for Jesus event has received in the media has mostly dwelt on its "controversial" nature, with little more than unspecific pronouncements about right wing politicos using WFJ for their own benefit.

Curious about this conclave of Christians, I take the subway's Orange Line to the rally.

As we cross the Anacostia, I see that several hundred buses are parked at JFK stadium, where Part One of the event was held last night. Greyhounds all; the 700 Clubbers et al have surely poured quite a bit of cash into the event.

At the Capitol South subway stop, the hitherto unpopulated train car takes on what appears to be a Born Again Christian. WIll he prosletyze me? No. He sits down quietly, stares out the train's front window. (We are up at the front of the train, next to the driver.)

I don't know what to expect at the Smithsonian stop; will see. Here it comes...Herds of Christians, I suppose. I am ready to fill my pockets with position papers, prayer sheets, etc.

Yes, they are here! Great piles of C's fill the metro stop. Ignorant of metro etiquette, they block up the escalator. Finally entering the sunlight....

Bedlam! The Mall is completely full. Walking along the dirt pathway towards the speakers' platform, I suddenly become aware that I am leading a parade: "California for Jesus!" says a bold banner right behind me. And hundreds of Californians. I get out of the way. They bog down after a bit, then move on as the sound of drums and tambourines moves toward me.

"United Methodist Church" a mall speaker blares. and here come the Methodical Christians dressed in yellow organdy hig necked dresses. A baton twirls as they move on followed by their marching band.

Canada for Jesus comes up "Oh Canada". Hmmm... Colorado follows, then Connecticut, is this?...Yes the entire roster of states and provinces is going to march by.

Splinter! Spinter! "You are being deceived" sternly warns a leaflet. It castigates rich and powerful men for luring people into an unholy army of anti-christians.

Speaker #3 proposes electing JC lord of one's life. Chick Young's fiesty little leaflets are here, too.

#4 A captive-state European warns us of the tragedy of our indifference.

#5 A prayer of atonement for abortion

The mall is filled stem to stern. Media says 200,000. A heckling line of longhairs, black and white with occasional shouts of 'anarchy!' troops about the area. Two of their women in shorts are abusive and noisy as they thread their way toward the stage.

New York for Jesus passes. North Dakota.

"San Francisco, the stronghold of evil!" This in a grating shout from a savage angry black man on the stage.

A bluesy singer belts out some gospel. A child breaks shards of glass against a post. A red head comes up, hustles me slightly; turns out to be a representative of Sunshine Farm, an intentional community in southern Virginia. I sit for the first time in the rather damp grass.

Lost children announcements. The Yippie hecklers are being ejected by policemen who escort them to the museum side of the mall. Bystanders mutter about their language and rudeness.

Fifteen minutes of pleasant music. Then the next preacher takes the stage. He is, it turns out, going to pray for the Catholics. But first he invokes "millions and millions of saints, especially American Saints." The preacher "interprets" for Jesus -- a simple preaching device. I get bored and walk about in search of stimulation.

3:07. A mass prayer for Jimmy Carter and his Cabinet. "Kneel everyone" the PA system blares. The prayer is followed by a rousing chorus of "Glory Glory Hallalujah."

By then, keeping track of the time, I had edged up to the mall's metro entrance next to the Freer Gallery. I watch the herds of C's carefully....that's it! The last speaker for the day.

The crowd, deprived of its focal point, mills aimlessly, then surges toward the subway entrance. I'm already at it and leap down the escalator ahead of the human wave, pulling out my fare card and thrusting it into the machine. Just behind me I hear muttering as hapless Christians try to coax farecard machines to take their wrinkled dollar bills..

Now I'm on the subway platform, walking to the far end as a river of Christians floods down the escalator. Ding-dong! warns the computer as a train pulls in.

I board and relax, unconverted.

END