The reason for this mad dash was that I was determined at all costs to get to get to Chantilly, Virginia---about thirty miles outside of Washington, D.C. in Fairfax Country---before noon. This was easily accomplished, given the hours I had put in the night before. As such I arrived in time to join the two hundred or so other people already gathered there at the entrance to the Westfield Marriot Hotel, yelling and heckling at the attendees of the 2012 Bilderberg Conference (article by Charlie Skelton, whom I saw repeteadly there).
What a time it was. Thursday was the day that most the attendees arrived. Mostly we stood around by the entrance and booed at the black limos with tinted glass as they turned off the main road and rain our gauntlet. It was also the day I got to see most of the celebrities of the freedom movement up close: Alex Jones, Webster Griffin Tarpley, Luke Rudkowski, Adam Kokesh, Stewart Rhodes and Mark Dice. I stayed until the late afternoon and then headed out to set up camp outside the town of Manassas.
The next day (Friday) was the first full day of the conferene. I knew there would lots of protest activity, but I had promised my boss some work hours, so I was holed up in a Starbucks for much of the middle of the day. By the time I got to the Marriot, a storm front and rolled in and was drenching the remaining folk there. Fortunately I had brought my rain coat and umbrella. There was a rumors of big activities in the evening, but by sundown it was clear the rain was going to keep most everyone away.
Saturday was by far the most awesome and incredible day, one of the most intense days of my entire life. The weather was perfect. By the time I got to the Marriot, there were well over five hundred people there. At this point, the attendees beyond the security fence were gathered in conference rooms in a building that was but a few feet beyond the fence. As such, the most intense protests were crowds gathered at this section of the fence, screaming in bullhorns. The word from the spies inside was that we were causing severe disturbance to the attendees. They didn't like us at all and were calling us "cockroaches."
At one point, around five o'clock in the evening on Saturday afternoon, I was perched down by the fence, standing on a concrete pylon, holding as high as possible the sign I had made with the materials I had purchased at a nearby Office Depot in Manassas. The crowd was all gathered around me and were chanting "Nazis!! Nazis!!" in unison across the fence. It was one of the most amazing highs in my life. At that moment, I felt I could feel something about the universe change, like the turning of the tide on a great field of battle. I knew we had won the day. Whatever was going inside, we had beaten them for now. We had shamed the press to cover us, including even the Washington Post.
On Sunday I got back to the hotel around noon. By this time, the attendees were trickling out. Most of the crowd were gathered by the side entrance heckling the limousines as they left. I think I got a good view of Queen Beatrix of the Netherlands in her limo, but I don't know if she ever saw my other sign: "Bilderberg: Same Old Beatrix" with the 'x' in her name shaped like a swastiki.
I was actually one of the last five people there. I didn't want to leave. It was so incredible. And we won. The world feels different. Never again will they be able to meet in secret, as they done up until now. We have broken that part of their power.
I feel such an intense comradeship with the people that were there with me, especially the Oath Keepers who I got to hang out with, after they saw my sign. Definitely having a sign is cool. Gotta remember that.
