The older men stand at the corner of the courthouse square, back at their endless vigil. It’s a
late afternoon in August, and as always, the four men in their 70s to early 80s are holding signs
adorned with the peace symbol.
Students have just returned to Bloomington for the fall semester, and now they walk past staring at
their phones. Some turn their heads to avoid making eye contact. Cars pass, too, mostly ignoring the
men. A few drivers honk in solidarity, raising the peace sign out their windows.
The men smile. “Peace!” they call out. “Love!”
2024, on the southeast corner of the downtown square in Bloomington. “I can only be
hopeful,” Tim said regarding future peace in the U.S.
For more than two decades, they’ve stood on this corner from 5-6 p.m. nearly every Wednesday ,
through an endless cycle of wars around the world. They learned long ago to accept the indifference
of strangers and recognize that it’s hard for people to stop whatever they’re doing to
join the tiny vigil on behalf of a hope that may seem so out of reach. However, that reach does not
seem so far for them. Still, the men take their place at the corner every week and wave their signs,
demanding peace in the world.
They stand there in the rain, in the blistering summer heat, in the cruelest days of winter. They
have no intention of stopping, even if almost no one pays attention.
“We need peace in the world,” Tim Terry, one of the group’s original members, said.
“It’s not happening, but I’m going to stand here with these old guys and show them
that I
think it’s worthwhile standing here.”
***
Each of the four men is a part of the boomer generation. Each has lived long enough to understand the
devastation of war.
“We’re all older people that have seen wars,” Tim said. “We’re all
pretty much
disgusted
with the whole concept of warfare.”
studio. He
said the jacket does not belong to anyone he knows.
Now 78, Tim still remembers the faces of high school classmates killed in the Vietnam War.
Not long ago, he went to a high school reunion and saw the names of the dead posted on a wall to
remember them.
James Muncy — he tells people to call him Apple — joined the mass demonstrations against
the war in 1969 in Washington D.C. Now 76, he can still hear the protest songs he and the other
activists sang four decades ago as they marched against the war. He remembers burning his draft
card.
All these years later, Apple sees the courthouse vigil as a chance for the four men to stand up for
the goodness in the world.
“We just do it as our witness,” he said. “It’s like a little club or
community, a
little tribe.”
Ned Powell, one of the group’s original members, won’t say how old he is.
“I’m timeless,” he said. But Tim estimates his friend is in his early 80s. As
a young man, Ned was one of 13,000 people arrested during one of the anti-Vietnam protests in
Washington, D.C. in 1971. He was released on a $10 bill which he brought to the protest in his size 11 shoe.
At 71, Jeff Irving is the youngest of the four men. Irving, who goes by Goose, joined the vigil nine
years ago after Donald Trump became the Republican party’s presidential nominee for the 2016
election. Goose felt he had to do something.
“To me, Trump represents hate,” he said. “And so, you got to go to the other side
and out-love that
hater.”
Their vigil’s origins began in 2003 after the United States invaded Iraq following the 9/11
attacks. A group called the Bloomington Peace Action Coalition organized a mass protest on the
courthouse square. The protest was controversial from the start. Some members of the community were
outraged with the group’s message of anti-war and world peace, believing it to be
anti-American.
“Fuck you!” Tim remembers the counter-protesters shouting.
The group saw this negativity as just noise. They didn’t let it stop them. At the beginning of
the protests, the courthouse square would have almost 900 people, but over time, the fire behind the
movement for peace had burnt out. Tim, Ned and Apple continued holding the tradition of the weekly
peace vigils as they did in 2003, even if no one joined them. The group thinks there are many
different reasons why people don’t join such as busy schedules or lack of interest.
“You don’t get your hopes up,” Ned said. However, he and the other men remain
undeterred,
continuing to show up every week.
If it rains, the men protest from under umbrellas. If it snows, they stand with gloves and hats and
hand-warmers. The only thing that stops the men from showing up is lightning.
Ned and Tim comment on how they wish more students would be involved with their
vigils.
***
On another Wednesday in late October, the men return to the corner. Fall leaves cover the sidewalk at
their feet. They are handing out posters promoting their vigil and asserting their support for
Kamala Harris, who is entering the final days of her campaign against Trump.
“Put a Woman in Charge,” one poster said.
As usual, many of those passing by ignore the men. But a few stop to ask questions.
in Bloomington. He got the attention of passing pedestrians by shouting “Love ya,”
which Ned joked is Goose’s trademark.
“What are you guys doing here?” a middle-aged woman asked.
“We’re standing here for peace,” Goose said. “Do you want a sign?”
“Yes, when are you guys out here?” she asks.
“Every Wednesday from 5 to 6,” Goose said, hopeful of their return. Whenever people show
interest in
participating, Goose always gets excited with the hope of new people joining. However, every
Wednesday it continues to only be the four of them who show up.
“I find it unconscionable that we have a university of, well, how many 40 plus 1000 students… I
find it hard to believe that we don’t have a whole bunch of young people there saying,
‘Yeah … we need peace,” Tim said.
Goose talks about making signs for the peace vigils.
This past summer, Ned took his peace sign to stand with protesters on campus against the Israel-Hamas
war. Though people protested in Dunn Meadow, no one asked about his peace sign, and Ned never
mentioned the peace vigil at the protest, believing it wouldn’t be relevant. However, he
believes people recognize the point behind the vigils but ignore the greater cause.
During the same summer, Goose made 60 peace signs and posters to advocate for the group’s simple
message of peace, which they hoped would resonate with many community members.
“People walked away with them,” Goose said. “I’d give them away trying to get
people back
each week, and it never worked.”
***
While their presence is regular and expected by those out by the square around the same time, who
know them as the peace guys on the corner, few know the story behind their passion for peace.
Bloomington. He said he finds it unconscionable that there are not college students standing
alongside them despite IU Bloomington having nearly 50,000 students total.
Tim was a member of the Peace Corps who served in Nigeria during the Biafran War from 1968 to 1970.
The war began in 1967 due to the attempt at secession from provinces in Nigeria. During the war, Tim
and his wife Barbara served as teachers.
After serving in the Corps, he became a jeweler, cultivating his designs in New York until
moving to Bloomington in 2003 with his wife, Barbara. Soon after moving to Bloomington, he joined
the protesters outside the courthouse. In 2019, his wife of 50 years passed away after suffering
from congestive heart failure. After losing his wife, he found comfort in continuing to create
jewelry as well as participating in the weekly vigil. Outside of the vigil, Tim enjoys bike rides
and spending time with his rescue Pitbull mix, Layla.
Tim explains how his need for creating jewlery sidetracked his graduate degree.
Ned sits with a homemade peace sign Aug. 26, 2024, on IU Bloomington’s campus. “This
town
would be nothing without the university,” Ned said. “There’s a culture that
comes
with it.”
Ned grew up in Chicago, where his father’s activism inspired him to join the
steelworkers’ union and
shaped his advocacy view. As years have passed, he has been a passionate volunteer , serving
organizations like Pastors for Peace, Friend of the Library bookstore, Opportunity House thrift
store, and Habitat for Humanity ReStore.
other students have joined them in the past and when they do, they talk about life, philosophy
and politics.
Apple is a retired auto parts store manager. Before retiring, he returned to school to get his
general studies degree from Indiana University South Bend. For Apple, attending the peace vigil has
become a part of his weekly routine, and he couldn’t imagine not joining.
Apple explains how he chose his own nickname.
Bloomington. “This gets awfully lonely out here,” Goose said.
Before joining the group, Goose was a Bloomington local for decades and worked as a Pizza X driver.
Goose briefly lived in Florida after high school, though he ultimately returned to Bloomington where he
took classes at Indiana University.
When Goose initially joined the group, he began making the same peace signs the group currently uses,
crafting symbols of unity and peace that would be presented weekly. The peace signs, coded with
bright colors and messages of love and peace, quickly became a staple of their vigil.
***
On the day of the November 2024 election, rain showers the city of Bloomington. Tim spent the night at home,
listening to the hard raindrops hitting his roof instead of following the election. He sat in his
living room as Layla laid her head on his lap, comforting him through the storm and the anticipation
of the day to follow.
As the sun rose the next morning, the United States woke to a new president. Regardless of the
outcome of the election, peace is still the goal and the four men’s mission.
Undeterred by the soaked streets and the political division, Tim arrives first at the vigil that
Wednesday after the election, standing, waiting a couple of minutes for the other men to arrive..
The three others join, holding their signs.
“I’ve seen you guys here before. What are you doing?” a woman asked.
“We’re here to spread peace, we’re here every Wednesday,” Goose said. The
other men
slowly turn to
hear the conversation.
“Well, thank you for being here. I would love to join you guys sometime,” she said.
“That would be great. We’ll have a sign for you,” Goose says.
As she walks away, the four men smile. As the hour ticks by, more people than normal honk and shout
“peace” toward the men. While the group had no idea if the woman would return to join
the vigil,
they would be back.
Appreciation for the peace signs roll in from community members after a divisive election. A shadow
of fear clouds over half of the country, but Tim, Ned, Goose and Apple stand on the corner with
their signs.
The uncertainty of others joining has never mattered to them. Whether it’s the four of them or
hundreds of participants, they would be standing at the corner with their signs, as they have for
over two decades. Standing at the corner every Wednesday may seem futile to some, but for the men,
they carry a greater hope along with their signs. Their signs and weekly presence continue to be the
same simple one-word call: Peace.
https://youtube.com/watch?v=/hWXeAv6vHAo
Tim discusses why they keep coming back despite a lack of community involvement.
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