by Frank James

I don't know if Sen. Barack Obama made a Lincoln-at-Gettysburg style comment that the world would little note nor remember the words he spoke at the modest 2002 anti-war protest in Chicago.

But it's clear Obama's speech, which has become central to his presidential campaign since it demonstrates his opposition to the Iraq War since before its start, wasn't exactly the speech heard around the world at the time. In that respect, it was the antithesis of Obama's 2004 speech at the Democratic National Convention.

National Public Radio's "Morning Edition" program had an interesting segment today on the speech and how little notice it had at the time. Then-Chicago Tribune reporter Bill Glauber didn't even quote Obama in the article he wrote, which you can read below.

To show just how little noticed the speech was at the time, NPR could only find 13 seconds of audiotape of Obama's remarks. Even the Obama campaign couldn't find tape of it, having to recreate it for purposes of the presidential campaign.

In any event, knowing everything we know now, it's worth looking back at that speech and the real-time reaction to it, which was arguably pretty underwhelming.

Here's the story by then-Chicago Tribune reporter Bill Glauber:

War protesters gentler, but passion still burns

Date: Thursday, October 3, 2002
Source: By Bill Glauber, Tribune staff reporter.
Illustration: PHOTOS 2
Caption: PHOTO (color): A crowd of about 1,000 listens to Jesse Jackson Wednesday at a Loop rally against a possible war with Iraq, as Vietnam-era protesters and college students mingle. Tribune photo by Abel Uribe.

PHOTO: Peace rally organizers Marilyn Katz (from left) and Bettylu Saltzman meet while Adele Simmons, former president of the MacArthur Foundation, watches the protest. Tribune photo by Abel Uribe.

They sang "Give Peace a Chance," waved tasteful "War Is Not An Option" placards and listened dutifully to speeches that echoed in the glass-and-steel canyon that is Federal Plaza Wednesday.

Some in the crowd of about 1,000 came straight off the college campus. Others were veterans of past protests to stop the Vietnam War. There were even a few second-generation activists following in the wake of parents radicalized by Vietnam.Older and grayer, the 1960s anti-war vets were as passionate as ever to demonstrate against the Bush administration's preparations for war in Iraq.

Organizers pronounced themselves delighted with the rally's modest turnout, its content and its civility.

"Well, nobody misbehaves anymore. We're all too old," said Don Rose, a longtime social and political activist.

Despite the small turnout, the rally marked the first high-profile public disapproval in Chicago of the Bush administration's war against terrorism.

The rally wasn't a replay of the Days of Rage--it was more like a gentle call to arms for a nascent peace movement desperate to head off a new Gulf War. From savvy public relations experts, veteran political activists and religious leaders to a few scruffy anti-global campaigners, a loose coalition took shape in a Chicago square.

Organizers and speakers went to great lengths to emphasize that it's not all wars they oppose--just the prospect of a rush to war against Iraq.

"I've been surprised in the last three or four weeks how vocal people have become" against war in Iraq, said Rev. Paul H. Rutgers, executive director of the Council of Religious Leaders of Metropolitan Chicago.

The familiar cast of Chicago activists voiced its opposition while trying to summon a new generation to the front lines of protest.

"There are a lot of new people and a lot of the usual suspects. That doesn't bother me because you've got to begin somewhere," said Marilyn Katz, a one-time organizer for the 1960s Students for a Democratic Society.

The genesis of the rally occurred Sept. 21 over a dinner at Pasteur, a Vietnamese restaurant. Bettylu Saltzman, a Democratic Party activist who serves on a host of civic boards, was dining with her husband and two couples and discussing current events.

"We've got to do something," she recalled saying of the buildup to war in Iraq.

Even though the grandmother of eight hadn't been to any peace rallies in decades, she knew exactly whom to call the next morning: Katz. A one-time anti-war firebrand, Katz has slipped easily into the mainstream, running an influential public relations firm.

The two e-mailed old friends, sought ideas and set up a meeting at Saltzman's home, where around two dozen people showed up to plan a rally.

"Everyone took assignments and just starting doing it," Saltzman said.

The rally was launched--and the Chicagoans Against War in Iraq was born.

But the organizers and protesters clearly have a way to go before currying widespread favor with an American public girding for another war. An anti-war rally last week in London drew 150,000 people.

Rev. Jesse Jackson told the Chicago audience, "This is a rally to stop a war from occurring." He implored the crowd to look to the sky and count to 10.

"I just diverted your attention away from the rally," Jackson said. "That's what George Bush is doing. The sky is not falling and we're not threatened by Saddam Hussein."

Beyond the anti-war rhetoric, the protest was significant because it placed on display Chicago's anti-war community in a serene setting where police stood by and watched as the rally unfolded without incident.

"It's not coming from above, it's coming from across all generations, all walks of life," said one of the rally organizers, Jennifer Amdur Spitz, a public relations executive. "This is not a fringe movement."

Still, it looked a lot like the old peace movement.

Rose, 72, has been in politics since his teenage years, when he supported the third-party presidential insurgency of Henry Wallace. In his 20s, he was at the vanguard of an effort to integrate Chicago, often a tavern at a time. He later served as an anti-war spokesman during the height of Vietnam-era demonstrations. And in his political prime he managed the winning Chicago mayoral campaign of Jane Byrne.

"I was in sit-ins before we knew they were called sit-ins," he said.

Rose said he didn't protest the Gulf War and was "generally supportive" of the 1999 U.S.-led bombing campaign in Kosovo.

"This one, the impending Iraq war, really began to scare me," he said. "The people who are in Washington right now scare the pants off me. I think it's the most dangerous administration not just in my lifetime, but possibly the entire American century. Whatever I can do, I'll do, even though it seems like little more than punching a keyboard."

The Internet--and e-mail--were key tools the organizers used to get the rally staged so quickly.

Gary Wheaton, 59, a carpenter, said he attends protests "every time there is a war" and added the rally had a quality of "deja vu."

"It's self-contained," he said. "Everyone knows the script, the roles and the stage."

Jeffrey Scott, 58, a human resources manager who last protested during Vietnam, said it is difficult to get the masses on the streets to oppose war because society has changed dramatically since the 1960s.

"You see people in other countries bringing down a government beating on pots and pans with spoons," he said. "Here, people go to health clubs, or work 12 hours a day, or go to their kid's sports games."

Among the new generation in the crowd was Amanda Klonsky, 23, whose father was a member of Students for a Democratic Society. At the University of Wisconsin-Madison, Klonsky was among 54 activists who took over the chancellor's office in February 2000 to protest school clothing made in sweatshops.

"Many of the students who are coming out in opposition to the war, many of them are children of people involved in the anti-war movement of the 1960s," she said.

There were some protest newcomers, like Ayne Dowd, 21, of Omaha, who attended the rally with three of her classmates at DePaul University.

"It's very cool, very empowering," Dowd said.

Andrea Juracek, 22, a DePaul senior from Mt. Prospect, is a protest veteran, participating in rallies against the death penalty and against the bombing of Afghanistan.

"I think this can grow," she said. "More people are against the war rather than for it. When the word gets out, people will start coming out."

Organizers are hopeful the movement will mushroom. They said they handed out more than 1,000 buttons at the downtown rally.

"Maybe the Allstate Arena will be next," said one of the organizers, Amdur Spitz. "We'll have a meeting and figure it out."