They Shout ‘No Kings,’ We Bow to One
A man hoists a wrinkled cardboard sign above his head. The edges curl with sweat. The words scream across the grain in thick strokes of black marker: NO KINGS. BY RICH BITTERMAN The street pulses. Feet slap the asphalt. Voices surge like surf pounding a broken seawall. Rhythmic. Fierce....
October 21, 2025