WE HEARD IT FROM THREE BLOCKS AWAY. The Observer left North Brooklyn sharing a cab with a neighboring journalist who had also been covering the protests shortly after 5:30 AM. By the time the cab pulled onto Broadway, after a quiet ride into Manhattan, traffic was at a standstill. It was around then we heard the noise, seeping in through rolled-up windows: yelling and shouting in a distant, chaotic baritone. The loudest chants of previous protest days paled in comparison. It started, we thought, fearing the worst, and without much discussion, the fare was paid, we jumped out of the cab, and ran toward the commotion, our adrenaline beginning to surge. Read More
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