Clean energy and green jobs were the themes Wednesday at the rally in Pittsburgh on the eve of the G-20 Summit, the annual meeting of the Group of Twenty world leaders, finance ministers and central bankers. Crackpots were nowhere to be found.

              My sister, a photographer in this city of bridges and hilly terrain, agreed to venture downtown with me to witness the fuss over globalization, a concept diminished by its vagueness if not its power to provoke. We donned our handmade press passes—OS was our “sponsoring organization”—and set out for a potentially dangerous adventure.

          Workers around town had been warned all week that the protesters were getting ready to rampage, targeting 81 corporate-owned companies in the area, including Starbucks, Trader Joe’s, Victoria’s Secret, and The Gap.  (Whole Foods is supposedly being spared because the owner supports some of the protesters’ causes.) Typical of the advice given by local politicians and security personnel is this from an email my brother-in-law received from someone on the city’s payroll:

     They will throw bricks through windows, explode stink bombs or tear gas in grocery stores and block streets - mostly at intersections all over Pittsburgh, not just downtown. Also -BYN Mellon - even the temporary space in Monroeville where some employees will be working -Bayer Corp -PNC -CMU - And...Bridges -Tunnels (they will stop a car in the middle of a tunnel, flatten the tires and set it on fire) The police told us to STAY AWAY FROM THE PARKWAY WEST on Thursday and Friday.  It could be closed up to 12 hours with all the officials coming to town.  They will be landing their jets at Pittsburgh International and the County Airport. Pittsburgh is already crawling with Police, Federal Agents, Undercover Agents....you name it.  But please be careful for the next week.

          Julie had heard that much of the unregistered action (Protesters are encouraged to register but of course not all do) would happen before the summit, and we had already seen footage of Greenpeace activists hanging around this three-rivered town, so we were raring to go. But since we hadn’t gotten ourselves organized until dinnertime, we made a quick stop at McDonald’s for fish sandwiches, guiltily consuming the unhealthy corporate food before any demonstrators caught wind of our betrayal.

           We took a trolley over the Monongahela, knowing that the roads in the city were scheduled to close at midnight. We didn’t want to be stuck in that little triangle of real estate with the crazies! We landed near The Point, the scene of the rally, and noted that the streets were fairly empty as we made our way to the open expanse clearly meant to house a standing-room-only crowd. Except that the crowd was sitting, and there were lots of empty seats. There were a few people wearing stickers and handing out flyers, but it turns out they were the sponsors of this official event, Repower America. I imagine the National Guard tried to appear officious at first but by now they were at ease, perhaps glad to find themselves sharing space with an amiable sort, perhaps secretly disappointed. Who could know?

          Getting beyond the gates required nothing so exclusive as a press pass; we had only to fill out our names and emails so Repower America could twist our arms at a later date. The real press was bored and lifeless as Big Head Todd and the Monsters played to a scattered audience. 

          But our amateur reporters’ instincts kicked in when Luke Ravenstahl, the boyish mayor of Pittsburgh, was introduced. We zipped up front with the rest of the suddenly alive press and listened to him embrace the virtues of a steel-gray city turned green.

          It was an impressive assemblage of speakers, all advocating the marriage of a union sensibility and clean jobs. We noticed that many in the crowd appeared foreign and wondered what they thought about the nationalist themes and the rousing "God Bless America" that ended each speech. Richard Trumka, the president of the AFL-CIO, gesticulated most colorfully and came closest to conveying a sense of confusion about how this whole Mutual Admiration Society between American labor and the global economy was going to work. He spoke broadly about the honorable steel worker--past and present--and railed a bit against globalization, but remembered to throw in some encouragement about new technology and concern for humanity at large. He seemed like a guy with heart, and I was reminded of his speech to the steelworkers in July 2008, where he was the first brave soul to blast racism as an acceptable criteria for casting a ballot in America. 

            Although we missed Ed Rendell, the Pennsylvania Governor who first stumped hard for Hillary Clinton but then agreeably threw his weight behind Barack Obama in the Presidential election, we saw the leaders of the Sierra Club and other environmental organizations and labor representatives advocating clean jobs as the way out for both the economy and the American worker. 

          Sitting in the front row, bright-faced and rapt, was this man in overalls and hard hat. I loved his face the moment I laid eyes on it and found myself looking at him a lot during the night. Occasionally he cheered, hat waving in the air, and I wanted to catch him after the event to ask him what this all means to him, but alas he disappeared during the Joan Jett concert. 

          Yes, Joan Jett in all her energetic glory. The dynamic powerhouse hasn't changed a bit. 

           Grammy-winning, country music performer Kathy Mattea ("18 Wheels and a Dozen Roses") was there, too, lending her passion and warm voice to the songs from her newest album called Coal, a tribute to coal miners and a plea to stop mountain top removal as a method of strip mining.

          After the event, Julie and I looked around at the little capitalistic booths surrounding the park and chose this one to satisfy our hunger and thirst. 

          We boarded an almost-empty trolley to take us back over the river and looked at the deserted city behind us, windows boarded, streets barricaded,  rows of security forces prepared for disaster. In the spirit of reporters everywhere, Julie and I resolved to be back tomorrow, hoping for a little piece of chaos.

 To see more of Julie's photos, look at her Flickr page.