ASHLAND — Ashland High School senior Hannah Caram marched because she was too afraid to attend school Friday.
She and her sister, Hailey, would like to see metal detectors or bag inspections in their school, or possibly even a ban on coats and backpacks — anything to make it harder to conceal a weapon.
Kitty Snyder marched for her children, who are teachers, and her grandchildren, who are students.
For them and for everyone who feels unsafe in schools and churches, Snyder wants legislators to ban assault weapons, raise the age limits for firearm ownership and require background checks for all gun sales.
John Boyer marched for the students at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School who started a nationwide movement.
His sign read, “Thoughts and prayers alone without action is the same as faith without works. Both are worthless. Enact common sense gun control.”
Those were just four of more than 200 people who marched in Ashland on Saturday as part of a local March For Our Lives event. The march took place simultaneously with a march in Washington, D.C. and hundreds of similar marches all over the country.
The march was organized by the local Indivisible chapter, called Ohio 7 Together, and co-sponsored by the Ashland Center for Nonviolence and the Ashland County Democratic Party.
Organizer Jessica Ellis, of Ashland, said she was pleased with the turnout and hopes it spurs political advocacy.
The marchers started at Christ United Methodist Church and walked north on Claremont Avenue to Corner Park downtown, where volunteers read the names of victims of gun violence in schools.
Many participants carried signs that said things like “Fear Has No Place in Our Schools,” “Sensible Gun Restrictions, Now!” and “Thoughts and Prayers Are Not Enough.” A few signs criticize legislators for their stances on gun control. Other signs simply read “Peace” or “Enough.”
Marchers also carried small paper angels, each with the name and age of a victim of gun violence. They staked the angel signs in the grass at Corner Park as each name was read.
Most passersby drove past without publicly acknowledging the marchers on the sidewalk, but some honked their horns in support. One driver rolled down his window, extended a middle finger and shouted.
Boyer brought his grandchildren to the march.
“I told them on the way here, ‘This is going to be something you’ll remember for the rest of your life,” he said. “They’re going to be part of this. We do what we can because the little things turn into big things.”
