It was a cold January morning when nine teenagers, junior high and high school students, drove with their chaperones to the Home Depot parking lot in Kansas City. On the frozen windows of the cars a few of us scraped peace symbols — an emblem that would become synonymous with the next 56 hours of our lives.

Our group was the first to arrive, but it wasn’t long before a large crowd had gathered in Kansas City. When I looked around and saw all those people who were willing to ride to Washington, D.C., I knew I wasn’t alone in my wish for peace. If all these people, old and young, were willing to ride on such a terribly long trip, maybe what we were doing would make a difference.

Lawrence teens Emily Edwards, 13, left, laughs at the trouble Emma Burgess-Olson, 14, center, is having as she tries to squeeze into another layer of clothes while participating in a peace rally Jan. 18 on the National Mall in Washington, D.C.

After hearing a speech from a veteran of the Vietnam War, we traipsed down to “Bus No. 2,” our home for the greater part of the next three days. We watched out of the window as people tried to grab empty seats to get on the bus, but there weren’t spots to be found. Everyone who had signed up for those spaces was in them.

Throughout the many hours spent on the bus, we spoke of countless things. It wasn’t all about President Bush’s foreign policy or the economy, but we did manage to have some lively political conversations, as there was plenty of time for it.

When we arrived Jan. 18 in Washington, D.C., it was a sea of people: more than a half-million. There were tiny babies, elderly protesters, the wealthy, homeless and more.

It’s amazing how many stereotypes were broken for me on this trip. For the longest time, I had thought that only young people were defiantly against the war; I believed that war veterans surely would have been for military action, and I was convinced that there weren’t enough people that cared enough about war. But I was sorely mistaken.

Maybe it didn’t make any difference. Perhaps there will be war, and many people will die. Only time can tell what will happen. What I can be sure of is that the cramped, terribly uncomfortable bus ride was worth it. I was a part of the largest pre-emptive war protest in America’s history.

And as we stood on the west side of the Capitol, I hoped that they could see us declare peace as the only way.

— Jessica Foulke is a junior at Free State High School.