“But I’m never as tired as when I’m waking up
No I’m never as tired as when I’m waking up
But it feels like I’m in love again
No it feels like I’m in love again
Though it feels like I’m in love again”

— Never As Tired As When I'm Waking Up, LCD Sound System From LCD Soundsystem (2005)

“I was a lonely soul
I had nobody ‘til I met you
But you keep-a me waiting
All of the time, what can I do?

’Cause I’m so tired, tired of waiting
Tired of waiting for you
So tired, tired of waiting”

— Tired of Waiting For You, The Kinks, from Kinda Kinks (1965)

My fellow photojournalists and I woke up exhausted this morning, a sentient state that we share with the thousands of police officers who also have been in the streets since at least last Saturday. CPD’s overtime budget must have been busted long before the opening gavel sounded in the United Center late Monday afternoon. Speaking with a very senior police officer, I learned that CPD had over 2,000 officers on the street Tuesday night, or was it Sunday night? It doesn’t really matter. 2,000 officers for 800 to 1,000 demonstrators on Sunday, or 2,000 officers for 200 to 300 ‘demonstrators’ on Tuesday night. Either way, CPD’s basic strategy centered on flooding the streets with blue (and black) uniforms. I was told by one cop wearing a black uniform cop that they up their visibility when there is trouble brewing, which is what I suspected. He and his fellow officers were a bit more intimidating that those clad in standard police blue.

Since Sunday, the typical photojournalist fell into a routine; out on the streets by 10 AM each day. The main demonstration might be late in the afternoon, but each photographer had his or her rounds to make—Union Park and Park 578, where the demonstrations took place; the Loop, River North, and Streeterville, where the delegates were sleeping, eating, and drinking; McCormick Place, the site of Democratic daytime activities and the DemPALOOZA; a fundraiser at the Cultural Center or Navy Pier, where small groups of protesters would appear; and the entrance to the United Center security zone at Paulina and Madison, where the “crazies” performed for the delegates as if they were trained seals or miniature ponies.

Those covering the story certainly can’t complain about the high heat and humidity that August typically brings. Nevertheless, temperatures in the low eighties and the sun beating down, combined with 25 pounds of camera equipment and hordes of people pinging like pinballs eventually was wearing, particularly when body and soul were held together on a daily diet of Diet Coke and energy bars—Quest is my preferred brand. No endorsement contract yet.

I arrived home each night around 10:00 PM. First thing I did was plug in the battery chargers that had been lying on the floor since last Saturday. Despite Maxwell the Cat’s best efforts to distract me, I would then offload the day’s work to my RAID system. At that point, leftover spaghetti beckoned me. The TV provided the background noise, with the last scheduled celebrities and politicians delivering their pre-approved remarks. By the time my head hit the pillow, I’d downed two or three cans of water or iced tea, together with a bowl of coffee ice cream and strawberries—I did lose four pounds during the week. Exhaustion and dehydration all but guaranteed that there were no 3:00 AM trips to the bathroom.

Even though I should have been in bed after the last speech, the siren call of my images was too alluring. “Just ten minutes,” however, turned quickly into two hours. During a quick mid-afternoon break at the Billy Goat Tavern today, two fellow photographers confessed to similar routines.

When I finally headed to the Belmont ‘L’ station at 1:00 PM today, I heard chants in the distance. Suspecting that something was happening outside of Wrigley Field, I momentarily stopped before passing through the station’s turnstile. A four-block detour was not in cards. Later, I learned that I had missed a small demonstration outside Wrigley.

The demonstrators apparently are equally exhausted. Nobody showed up for the 3:00 PM slot at Park 578’s “Free Speech” zone, which is within “sight and sound” of the United Center. The Holy Rollers, Pro-Life Progressives, and Ukrainians were working the delegates outside the United Center’s main entrance point, but even they were relatively subdued. Some of those trying to attract the delegates’ attention did offer a surprise or two. The woman with the hand-painted bedsheet who had been at RNC in Milwaukee and at every demonstration this week was having a very civil discussion with an apparent Trump supporter. She acquitted herself well. And who knew that Havana Syndrome affects ordinary people, as well as diplomats?

When the demonstration finally began, I realized that the demonstrators were no different than me. Upfront, the diehards were still going strong, but there were pockets of people throughout the park just milling about, often in the shade. Most wanted the seemingly endless marches to end, at least for a week or so.

On Monday, the organizers had a large stage and sound system, hundreds, if not thousands of signs ready to go, and seven porta-potties. Today, there were no porta-potties, the stage was more an elevated cattle pen, the stacks of sign were much smaller, and the sound system was meager at best—a microphone attached to a bullhorn.

The march that followed the speeches was chaotic but restrained. As has been true for all the marches originating in Union Park, CPD ordered the photographers onto the sidewalks, behind the bicycle cops lining the street. Senior CPD officials replaced the photographers, leaving the impression that those officials had joined the march in support of the Palestinians in Gaza—probably not the look CPD was going for. Many social media influencers chose to march behind the banners with their video cameras, adding an element of chaos to the march and dissipating its energy. With occasional exception, photographers should be on the outside of the march column.

The overarching question: On the night of Kamala Harris’ acceptance speech, did the demonstrators have something special planned? The consensus among the media was that if some of the demonstrators had a grand finale in mind, it would be revealed as the marchers passed within ‘sight and sound’ of the United Center. Would some of the marchers rush the security barriers, trying to penetrate the complex?

For most of the march, I was a block or two ahead of the marchers. At Park 578, I waited within sight of the riot police standing at the park’s western perimeter. To everyone’s relief, the marchers largely remained in the street. simply passing the park and the temptation offered by the security fencing without incident.

Returning to my position ahead of the marchers, I arrived at the Damen ‘L’ station long before the marchers. CPD was kind enough to liven my day up with a touch of unintended humor. Riot police lined the entranceway to the station. There would be no repeat of last night. No pro-Palestinian demonstrators waving flags from the platform overhead, or photographers snapping photographs from an elevated vantage point. I wouldn’t be surprised if anyone who was carrying a flag or a camera was told to use the Ashland ‘L’ station several blocks to the east if the demonstrator or photographer truly wanted to ride the ‘L.’ I didn't’ t see any photographers even try to enter the station. Why bother? They already had the money shot from night before.

At this point, I opened up the space between me and the demonstrators, arriving back at Union Park long before they did. Rather than stopping when I reached the park, I just kept going, catching the ‘L’ at the Morgan Street station. Apparently, many demonstrators shared my desire to put the DNC in the proverbial rearview mirror—the train was filled with demonstrators heading home. Arriving at State and Lake, I discovered that the next 146 bus was at least 28 minutes away, so I hailed a cab. Finished.

According to the 10:00 PM newscast, I made the right decision. Except for 60 diehards who staged a sit-in on Ashland Avenue, most of the demonstrators went home following the march. Over the years, I have captured plenty of images of people staging sit-ins. I can do without one more.

[Click on an Image to Enlarge It. The Images Are Not Necessarily in Exact Chronological Order.]

**The Billy Goat Tavern Offered Diet Coke, Potato Chips, and a Clean Bathroom Without a Passcode**

**A Delegate From South Carolina Headed Toward the Security Checkpoint At Paulina and Madison**

**A Former Black Panther Who Now Seeks To End Gun Violence on Chicago's Westside**

**Letting Delegates Know About Deported Military Veterans**

**The Woman With the Handmade Sign Engaging In A Civil Discussion With A Man**

**Members of Chicago's Ukrainian Community Who Want To Make Sure That the War In Gaza Does Not Completely Overshadow the War in Ukraine**

**Lots of Writing On Cardboard That The Delegates Standing Behind The Signs Cannot See**

**Just In Case The Delegates Can't Hear The Marchers Two or Three Blocks North**

**Pro-Lifers Pleading Their Case Outside The Entrance For Delegates**

**Good News: There Is A Small Fan Running Inside the Suit**

**By Far The Week's Best Slogan and Signage**

**The Salt Trucks Are Ready If the Streets Heat Up**

**Even On The Last Day, Still Making Signs**

**Some Demonstrators Are Concerned About Other Wars**

**The Police Telling The Bobby Kennedy Trolls To Move On**

Concluding Thoughts About the Demonstrations. Throughout the week, I heard a chant that I first heard in August 1968, when I was about to enter the 8th Grade. “The whole world is watching,” which the Chicago Transit Authority memorialized on their first album—The real CTA claimed trademark infringement, or something equivalent to it, so the Chicago Transit Authority became Chicago, quickly evolving from a revolutionary rock band with a terrific horn section to a Seventies staple of Top 40 radio, producing wedding-ready songs.

As much as some of the anarchists hoped 2024 would be a reprise of 1968, they were in for a disappointment. Thankfully, there was very little violence. Surprisingly, the demonstrations were somewhat lethargic.

The DNC 2024 garnered a national audience, with 15,000 members of the media descending on the city. Despite the international media coverage, the demonstrations were decidedly local. On Monday, buses from several Midwestern cities transported demonstrators to the first March On The DNC, those of out-of-towners were the exception.

In 1968, there were somewhere between 7,000 and 10,000 demonstrators—although some articles put that number closer to 15,000. According to the CPD, Monday’s demonstration in Union Park drew 3,500 marchers. There doesn’t appear to be an official number for Tuesday’s ‘anarchy’ outside the Offices of Israeli Consulate General, but I doubt there were even 200 demonstrators on Madison. As for the Palestinian Community’s Wednesday’s march originating at Union Park, the CPD put the number at around 2,000 demonstrators. Apparently, Thursday night’s demonstration brought out 4,000 demonstrators. So, in terms of numbers, 2024 might, with one caveat, equate with 1968, but that is not saying a whole lot for 2024 given the ease and low cost of air travel and the organizing opportunities offered by social media.

The caveat centers on the number of unique demonstrators. Clearly, many of the same people showed up for each march this week, so there were not 10,000 or 15,000 unique demonstrators. I simply don’t know whether the numbers for 1968 represent unique demonstrators, or whether people are being double-counted over several days.

In terms of local versus national, let’s focus on the members of the Chicago Seven. Only one was Chicago-based. Rennie Davis was born in Michigan, growing up outside of Washington, D.C.; David Dillinger was born in Wakefield, Massachusetts and attended Yale University; John Froines grew up and was educated in Bay Area; Tom Hayden grew up in Michigan and became a Freedom Rider in the South; Abbie Hoffman was born and educated in Massachusetts, subsequently heading to Berkeley for a Master of Arts; and Jerry Rubin was born in Ohio, also eventually finding his way to Berkeley. The seventh member, Lee Weiner, was the only member with solid Chicago roots. All descended Chicago, bringing outsiders with them. The 2024 demonstrations, on the other hand, had deep Chicago roots, but not national ones. I was familiar with many of the organizers, who I had seen dozens of times before.

The zeitgeist has changed in the ensuing 56 years. Taylor Swift versus the Beatles and the Jefferson Airplane. Songs about breakups versus songs about revolution.

In 2024, localized demonstrations are standard fare. In 1968, the demonstrations were national in scope, in part because the media was centered on the coasts and there were far fewer outlets. While today the United States is subject to social divisions, the country was similarly divided in 1968—Nixon received 43.4% of the vote, while Humphrey garnered 42.7%, with George Wallace claiming 13.5% of the votes—a reflection of racial divisions.

We remain divided as a society, but in 1968 we were not siloed. Three networks, no talk radio, no podcasts, two major weekly news magazines, and no far corners of the Internet where people now consume red and black pills.

In 1968, the ascending youth culture that sprang in part from the division was organic and raw. The young had not yet become a marketing demographic. Large corporate interests were not designing the attire the young wore, producing their music or films, providing them with marijuana through state-regulated stores, or using PACs to coral their votes. Nor were there as many distractions—desk-top computers, video games, social media fame and influence, electronics, inexpensive travel to foreign locales, hundreds of cable media outlets, and an infinite number of spectator sports were non-existent. People might disagree about the issues of the day, but everyone consumed the same media. Consequently, major events were more impactful.

Much of what distracts us today is homogenized, overproduced, anesthetized, and solipsistic. Large organic movements are much harder to nurture in such a top-down environment, which explains why the demonstrations surrounding the DNC 2024 fell flat.

The CPD Performance. Before ending this post, I should single out the Chicago Police Department for well-deserved praise. Their effort was superlative. The department has been preparing for this week for over a year. The level of planning was readily evident, from the choreographed movements of the cops on bicycles to the numbers on the backs of what must have been group leaders. I wondered whether there was someone sitting in a command bunker looking at a screen, directing the movements.

The officers on the street far from the demonstrations were friendly, often volunteering a smile or a friendly “Hello, how are you?” One officer went so far as to tell me that my shoe was untied. She didn't want me to fall with all my camera equipment.

Over the course of the week, I spoke with several senior police officers. They were more than willing to answer questions. We talked about the bodycams, the absence of violence, and the large media presence. One officer who sees me regularly told me that I had a lot of competition— ”You are usually out here by yourself.” I pointed out that he had a lot of competition, too, which garnered a laugh.

I was particularly impressed by Chicago Police Superintendent Larry Snelling and Chief of Patrol Jon Hein, who could have easily been back in their offices, but who were front and center, even during Tuesday night’s melee on Madison (wearing no protective gear). They set an exemplary example for their troops. Mayor Johnson and city are indebted to both Snelling and Hein, as well as each officer who was on the streets keeping everyone safe whether they liked it or not.