The debate in Congress was spirited. A lot of bright people said a lot of smart words. They definitely sounded defiant. Watching it was a waste of time, but intellectually stimulating. After almost two days, citing Article One, section eight of the Constitution, a joint session of Congress voted to declare that a state of war existed between the United States of America and International Terrorism.

This marked the first time a sovereign nation had declared war on an amorphous enemy, an enemy consisting of small groups, individuals, and essentially any person or entity Wrightman decided was the enemy. It was an enemy with many names, different objectives, and no central command, an enemy that avoided fixed battles and waged war against civilians and soft targets.

A substantial majority of Congress supported the declaration. The White House had successfully ginned up so much fear that it was the politically expedient vote. Only those few secure in their office or planning retirement dared buck the winds of blind patriotism. Martha was one of them, to her credit. On the floor of the house she said she refused to hand unlimited power to any one person, no matter how noble the purpose. “In their wisdom our founding fathers gave us an ingenious system of checks and balances. It has been the bedrock of our government for almost 250 years, and I’ll be damned if I’ll be frightened into abandoning it.”

Martha was great. So were a few others. She created a stir when she demanded the roll be called rather than accepting a voice vote. That meant that the vote of each senator and member had to be publicly recorded, a parliamentary move she defended because “years from now I want Americans to know who voted to give away our democracy.” While there was some grumbling, it didn’t change a vote; none of her colleagues were willing to risk being blamed when the next terrorist attack took place.

Which also was a memorable threat from the administration. The White House media manipulation campaign was hugely successful. Every published poll showed that more than 91 percent of all Americans were strongly opposed to terrorist attacks.

The day after the vote protesters were out in the streets once again. Police and militia successfully prevented large groups from gathering, but the opposition stayed together in groups of four or less. There still was no law against carrying signs, and homemade signs criticizing this as a “legal coup!” were everywhere. At the same time anti-administration leaders were emerging, among them Indiana “Senator Pete” Buttigieg, who strolled down Mulberry Street in his hometown of South Bend, Indiana, the sleeves of his work shirt rolled up. When he was arrested for disturbing the peace, he went with the South Bend officers peacefully. The photograph of Senator Buttigieg being led away, hands cuffed behind him, chin defiantly thrust upward, was published around the country by the underground newspapers that were beginning to emerge. News organizations like the Pro were urged to report his arrest, which we did, presumably to serve as a warning. But that photograph of his perp walk was not allowed to be circulated under the new regulations.