Marchers

MONTGOMERY, Ala. -- The marchers came to the old man in the wheelchair, some to tell him he was forgiven, some to whisper that he could never be forgiven, not now, not a million years from now.Yet to all of the people who retraced the steps of the Selma-to-Montgomery civil rights march 30 years ago, George C. Wallace offered an apology for a doomed ideal.The former Alabama governor, whose name became shorthand for much of the worst of white Southern opposition to the civil rights movement, held hands with men and women he had once held down with the power of his office.

When Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.was still fighting to make his "dream" a reality, Phillip Hunter, of Bel Air, was one of those who marched with him. Hunter was the guest speaker Monday, when Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority Inc., Xi Delta Omega chapter, in partnership with the Hosanna School Museum in Darlington, celebrated the life and legacy of Dr. King, including the 1965 march from Selma to Montgomery in which Hunter participated. The observance of Dr. King's birth and the 104th anniversary of Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority Inc.'s founding was made a "Day On, Not a Day Off" for those who attended.

Demonstrators marching through downtown Baltimore on Saturday to mark the approaching Martin Luther King Jr. holiday had a brief face-off with the police, but the two sides parted ways peacefully without arrests. About 50 marchers who were beginning a three-day trek to Washington, D.C., to decry economic and social inequality stopped at about 1 p.m. at the corner of Howard and Lexington streets — the former location of Read's Drug Store, a landmark in civil rights history. The store was the scene of a sit-in protesting racial segregation by students from what was then Morgan State College in January 1955, months before the Montgomery bus boycott and five years before the more celebrated lunch counter sit-in in Greensboro, N.C. The police, who had been trying to get the marchers to stay on the sidewalk when they walked down Eutaw Street toward Lexington, kept watch on foot and in several cruisers as the crowd stopped at what is now a boarded-up store and began chanting "No justice, no peace, no racist police.

Demonstrators marching through downtown Baltimore on Saturday to mark the approaching Martin Luther King Jr. holiday had a brief face-off with the police, but the two sides parted ways peacefully without arrests. About 50 marchers who were beginning a three-day trek to Washington, D.C., to decry economic and social inequality stopped at about 1 p.m. at the corner of Howard and Lexington streets — the former location of Read's Drug Store, a landmark in civil rights history. The store was the scene of a sit-in protesting racial segregation by students from what was then Morgan State College in January 1955, months before the Montgomery bus boycott and five years before the more celebrated lunch counter sit-in in Greensboro, N.C. The police, who had been trying to get the marchers to stay on the sidewalk when they walked down Eutaw Street toward Lexington, kept watch on foot and in several cruisers as the crowd stopped at what is now a boarded-up store and began chanting "No justice, no peace, no racist police.

NEW YORK -- The Rev. Al Sharpton led about 400 shouting, chanting black protesters through the heart of the Hasidic section of Crown Heights in Brooklyn yesterday as a blue wall of police officers made sure that the march went off without serious incident.The police outnumbered the marchers, flanking them with a double column of officers marching alongside and with motorcycle patrols.A helicopter circled overhead.About 40 bearded, black-clad Hasidim watched from the porch of the Lubavitcher headquarters on Eastern Parkway as the marchers passed, chanting, "Whose streets?

ANNAPOLIS -- Chanting "Pro-Choice Teen-Choice" and "one-four-six," abortion rights advocates gathered in front of the State House last night to show their support of Senate Bill 146, which seeks to preserve the U.S. Supreme Court's Roe vs. Wade decision.Annapolis police estimated the crowd at 1,200 people. But Bea Poulin, the executive director of Marylanders for the Right to Choose, which organized the rally, said that about 3,000 supporters made the march from the Navy-Marine Corps Memorial Stadium to a grassy area across from the State House.

The sitar players hadn't shown up yet, so AlySun Panichi, a musician from Woodstock, N.Y., stood in front of a group of peace marchers who had shepherded a tiny flame from New York to Baltimore, and started to sing. Moved by the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11 and saddened by the ensuing U.S.-led attacks on Afghanistan, they set out from Manhattan on Oct. 27, hoping to spread a love for peace as they walk down the East Coast to Washington. At their Baltimore stop yesterday afternoon, the 20 walkers sat in the sun on the steps of the Visionary Arts Museum on Key Highway, let the wind carry the sweet smoke of burning incense over their faces, and began to beat on Native American drums.

As she walked across the historic Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, Ala., Linda Van Hart of Westminster said, she could not hold back her tears. For Van Hart, who was in the fourth day of a tour of civil rights landmarks led by Bernard LaFayette Jr., a friend of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.'s, the walk brought to life the events of March 7, 1965. On that day, known as "Bloody Sunday," civil rights activists, or freedom marchers, tried to walk across the bridge - and were beaten back by angry people and armed Alabama state troopers.

Jan. 30 1972 Thirteen Roman Catholic civil rights marchers were killed by British soldiers in Northern Ireland on what is known as "Bloody Sunday."

WASHINGTON - Antiwar leader Philip Berrigan died of cancer last month, but his presence was keenly felt yesterday on a second day of weekend protests against possible war with Iraq. His picture was affixed to the parkas of several dozen Baltimore marchers. His widow, Elizabeth McAlister, addressed the several hundred demonstrators. And his 21-year-old daughter, Kate, was arrested after jumping a barrier in an act of civil disobedience that has become something of a family tradition. "It would give him a lot of hope to see people come out in weather [that is]

About 200 people shouted "Jobs! Jobs!" as they marched Tuesday through the streets of East Baltimore. Their voices grew louder and their numbers grew along the 10-block route to the headquarters of a nonprofit overseeing the $1.8 billion redevelopment of the area north of Johns Hopkins Hospital. They were orderly but vocal enough to bring people to their porch fronts. "If we don't work, nobody works!" became the rallying cry. 'We are out here fighting for construction jobs," said Richie Armstrong, an organizer with Community Services United, a coalition of local churches.

Peter J. Marcher Jr., a master brewer who had been the former head brewer for the old National Brewing Co. and developed the formula for Colt 45 malt liquor, died Feb. 2 of pneumonia at Willow Valley Retirement Community in Lancaster, Pa. The former longtime Wiltondale resident was 92. The son of farmers, Mr. Marcher was born in Fort Wayne, Ind., and was raised in Roanoke, Ind. "It was there that he acquired an enduring love of farming...

Jan. 30 1972 Thirteen Roman Catholic civil rights marchers were killed by British soldiers in Northern Ireland on what is known as "Bloody Sunday."

About 350 Amnesty International members marched outside Baltimore's Supermax prison yesterday to call for an end to Maryland's death penalty. Organizers and speakers at the event praised Gov. Martin O'Malley for publicly supporting efforts to repeal the state's death penalty, a move the General Assembly rejected in March. Folabi K. Olagbaju, director of Amnesty International's Mid-Atlantic regional office, said the group will try again when the legislature meets next year and was encouraged by O'Malley's support.

JIM CLARK, 84 Confronted rights marchers Former Dallas County (Ala.) Sheriff Jim Clark, whose violent confrontations with voting rights marchers in Selma in 1965 shocked the nation and gave momentum to the civil rights movement, died Monday at an Elba, Ala., nursing home after years of declining health due to a stroke and heart surgery, Hayes Funeral Home officials said. Mr. Clark was voted out of office in 1966 in large measure because of opposition from newly registered black voters, but throughout his life he maintained he had done the right thing.

Shouting, "Stop the killing, end the violence," activists marched along Dolphin Street near the McCulloh Homes complex yesterday, pleading for residents of the West Baltimore neighborhood to join the fight to end the city's recent spate of bloodshed. "Twenty-four murders in 24 days is unacceptable," said Marvin "Doc" Cheatham, president of the Baltimore branch of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People. "When are we going to get upset about this?" he roared into a bullhorn.

When Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.was still fighting to make his "dream" a reality, Phillip Hunter, of Bel Air, was one of those who marched with him. Hunter was the guest speaker Monday, when Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority Inc., Xi Delta Omega chapter, in partnership with the Hosanna School Museum in Darlington, celebrated the life and legacy of Dr. King, including the 1965 march from Selma to Montgomery in which Hunter participated. The observance of Dr. King's birth and the 104th anniversary of Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority Inc.'s founding was made a "Day On, Not a Day Off" for those who attended.

JIM CLARK, 84 Confronted rights marchers Former Dallas County (Ala.) Sheriff Jim Clark, whose violent confrontations with voting rights marchers in Selma in 1965 shocked the nation and gave momentum to the civil rights movement, died Monday at an Elba, Ala., nursing home after years of declining health due to a stroke and heart surgery, Hayes Funeral Home officials said. Mr. Clark was voted out of office in 1966 in large measure because of opposition from newly registered black voters, but throughout his life he maintained he had done the right thing.

On his first trip as a civil rights activist, Charles Blackburn already knew the rules: Disconnect the lights in your car so you're not an easy target for snipers. Drive down the center of the road to make it harder to be run off the side. Stick to the black neighborhoods whenever possible. A white Unitarian minister, he was headed from his home in Huntsville, Ala., to McComb, Miss., where a string of bombings had devastated black homes and churches. It was October 1964. Nine white men arrested in the bombings had just been released.