Brothers too (the march, like NOW, for women/women’s rights, but not exclusively of women), and wonderfully, lots of nieces and nephews.
Spitting distance from Trump Tower, the march ended, everyone routed east or west on 55th Street. A young guy (who had been inventing chants, including the irresistible, “Take your mitts off my bits”) started dancing, his long hair flying. His friends, and a 12-year-old schoolgirl who told had me she was writing a paper on the suffragettes, followed his lead.
400,000 demonstrated in NYC, worldwide, there were millions in the streets, giving new and hopeful meaning to “boots on the ground.”