Yesterday I slipped out of the office a little early to join the immigration protest on the Mall. The march itself was passed very near my office, but I just missed it, so I followed the steady stream of people down 15th Street. At least 90% of the people walking with me were Hispanic, almost all dressed in white, and almost all with American flags -- little ones on sticks, big ones draped over shoulders, hats and t-shirts printed with the flag.

Down by the Washington Monument, a crowd of people sat on the gentle slope on the east side of 15th. I don't know why they stayed back so far. I crossed 15th and headed into the Mall. It was full of people but at the east end, very easy to move around. As I got closer to the stage (which was set up near 7th Street) the crowd was packed tighter and tighter.

Down on the Mall, the crowd was about 90% Hispanic, including lots of families and young people. Lots of white, lots and lots of American flags, and here and there someone proudly displaying a flag from their home country: Peru, El Salvador, Honduras ... There also many many signs. Commercially printed ones said "We are America" and other pro-immigrant slogans. Handmade ones made different points: "Who are you calling immigrant, pilgrim?" said a one. Many told personal stories of hard work and suffereing. A white woman carried one that said "Americans do the illegal hiring." "I'm just trying to reframe the debate," she told me, then pushed her stroller off into the crowd.

A helicopter circled overhead the whole time I was there (about an hour and a half). I overheard someone say that's how they count the crowd. Each time it passed, people cheered and waved their flags at it.

They cheered "Si se puede!" It's been a while since I've taken Spanish and I thought they were saying, "If we can!" Hmmm, I thought; that's not very empowering. Then I realized they were saying: Yes we can.

From the time I crossed 12th Street it was possible to hear the speakers. They spoke in a mix of Spanish and English. A strong, positive sounding woman was moderating. Later, a black man came on and compared current immigrants doing hard jobs to "undocumented" citizens of the 19th century, i.e., slaves. After him, another man came on, speaking mostly (entirely?) in Spanish.

Everyone was overwhelmingly calm, quiet and polite. People listened to the speakers, cheered at appropriate times, clustered in little groups but (until I got closer to the stage) left plenty of room to pass around them.

By the time I worked my way past 9th Street, it was a little too crowded for my taste. I squeezed my way into the Hirshhorn Sculpture Garden, where I could catch my breath. The rim of the garden was crammed with people trying to see the stage.

At 6:30 the rally wasn't over but it was time for me to go. I headed back toward 14th Street. Many headed with me, having had enough for the day, but many more were still arriving.

The sweetest thing I saw all day was on the way home. In the big picture window of the restaurant DC Coast, two Hispanic women -- large, plain women with big beautiful smiles -- stood in their white kitchen uniforms. They watched the people streaming by on the sidewalk, beaming with excitement about the rally even though they couldn't be there themselves.