America Rising by Tom Paine Read Free Book Online Page A

ugly now. More sirens wailed. Shopkeepers closed and locked their doors and drew their hurricane shutters. A young man stood in the center of the pavilion, speaking quietly to the people around him. They listened intently. More people crowded around him. He spoke louder to reach them. There was nothing distinctive about him, except perhaps his indistinctiveness. He was slight but not skinny, neither short nor tall, with a coffee-shaded complexion that could have been black or Hispanic or Caribbean. Or not.
     
    Two of his listeners hoisted him on their shoulders. A third handed him a microphone. Others fiddled with the sound equipment. A banshee howl of feedback cut like a dagger through the humid air. Thousands of pairs of eyes riveted to its source. The young man looked nervous, even scared. He raised the microphone to his mouth and in a faltering voice said, “We’re here today. . .”
     
    He stopped and shook his head, a faint smile on his lips, an amused rebuke to his own ineptitude. He straightened his shoulders, swept his arm across the throng and boomed in a voice that was suddenly deep and confident and magisterial, “Is this a beautiful sight or what?”
     
    Thousands of conversations halted. Thousands more eyes riveted on him. Sirens still wailed.
     
    “I came here today just as you did,” the young man began. “To speak with a voice greater than the power of one, to speak with a voice greater than the power of money and influence, to speak with a voice greater than those who use their public microphone to advance their own narrow self-interest.
     
    “Perhaps like you too, I wasn’t sure what to say.” Murmurs of agreement swirled, eddied, crested. The young man nodded in acknowledgement. “I didn’t have any great words, the gift of oratory that can set men’s and women’s souls on fire. But then I thought, what we came here to seek doesn’t demand great words, great oratory. What we came here seeking is simple. Justice. Equality. Representation. Fairness. Compassion. And I thought, all I really need to say is one simple word.
     
    “Enough.”
     
    The murmurs grew louder.
     
    “Enough.
     
    “To those who hold themselves as princes, gathering riches upon riches while outside their gated mansions people struggle to survive, to feed their families, to make a better life, we say enough! To those who hold themselves as uncrowned kings, who believe it is their place to rule and ours to bow our heads, who believe the law is their servant and they are its masters, who believe our freedoms are mere trifles to be granted or withheld as they see fit, we say
enough!”
     
    He was soaring now, carrying the crowd along with him.
     
    “And to those who have sold our hopes and dreams, our futures, our birthright as Americans, for thirty pieces of corporate silver, we say no more. We say your time is over. We say stand with us or dare to stand against us. We say
enough! ENOUGH!!”
     
    The crowd exploded.
     
    “ENOUGH! ENOUGH! ENOUGH!”
     
    The young man paused and cocked his head as if he couldn’t hear their answer.
     
    “But maybe it’s not enough,” he said. “Maybe we can do more.”
     
    He turned and pointed to the short span rising over the Intracoastal. “You see that bridge over there? Just across that bridge are the people we should be talking to. They’re at a hotel, a beautiful hotel, a hotel where people like you and me cut the grass and clean the rooms and wait the tables.
     
    “They’re the people who sold you a loan you couldn’t afford or understand, then took your house. They’re the people who ruined their companies and paid themselves million-dollar bonuses. They’re the people who ruined our economy and paid themselves million-dollar bonuses. They’re the people who threw millions out of work and paid themselves million-dollar bonuses. They’re the people who took billions of dollars of your money and paid themselves yet more million-dollar bonuses.
     
    “So