50 years later, thousands retrace March on Washington

• Throngs make their way to the Lincoln Memorial for new March on Washington
• Organizers see a key theme as unfinished business on racial equality
• Mood is euphoric in contrast to 1963 event%2C when violence was feared

WASHINGTON — Fifty years after the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. offered a transcendent vision of racial harmony for America's future with his "I Have a Dream" speech, tens of thousands gathered where he spoke Saturday to hear leaders tell them that while much has been attained, much remains unfinished.

"Dreams are for those who won't accept reality as it is, so they dream of what is not there and make it possible," the Rev. Al Sharpton, an event organizer, told the throngs that pulsated with enthusiasm — laughing, cheering, nodding and clapping.

Orators speaking from the steps where King stood outlined what they said were promises yet unfulfilled in preserving voting rights, quelling gun violence, reducing economic disparity and achieving equal protection under the law. Among the thousands were more women, more Hispanics and more people representing sexual diversity — and more tech-savvy — than their predecessors 50 years before.

Many said they felt an inspiring sense of unity while witnessing history. "It's beautiful around here," said 17-year-old Margaret Foster, who attended with her mother, Tamilikia, from Lansing, Mich.

Rep. John Lewis, D-Ga., the only surviving speaker from the original 1963 event, said the most brutal days of the civil rights struggle "for the most part are gone." But he said the struggle for a more perfect America goes on.

"We cannot give up. We cannot give out. And we cannot give in," Lewis said, urging that crucial elements of the Voting Rights Act of 1965 that were struck down by the U.S. Supreme Court be placed back into law by Congress.

"The vote is precious. It's almost sacred," he said.

U.S. Attorney General Eric Holder, the first African American to hold that post, laid out a broader mandate for today's activists.

"Our focus has broadened to include the cause of women, of Latinos, of Asian Americans, of lesbians, of gays, of people with disabilities. And of countless others across this great country who still yearn for equality," Holder said. "I know that in the 21st century we will see an America that is more perfect and more fair."

A message of cross-generational common cause extended from 1963 as a recurring theme Saturday.

"Me and my generation cannot now afford to sit back consuming all of our blessings, getting dumb, fat and happy thinking we have achieved our freedoms," said Cory Booker, the 44-year-old mayor of Newark, N.J., and Democratic candidate for Senate.

The most raucous crowd response was reserved for Sharpton, especially when he rebuked a young, black, male culture that tends to embrace guns and violence.

"Don't disrespect your women. Make it clear that you know that Rosa Parks wasn't no 'ho,' and (voting rights activist) Fannie Lou Hamer wasn't no b----," Sharpton bellowed from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.

Alternatively, he chastised a society that he said leaves these young men without a moral compass. "We need to give them dreams again, not to worry about sagging pants, but sagging morality," Sharpton said. "If we told them who they could be and what they could do, they would pull up their pants and get to work."

Keying on the fabled rhythm of King's "I have a dream" refrain, orators reveled in the repeated phrase, punctuating remarks with: "It's movement time," "Keep dreaming," "Redeem the dream" and "We still have work to do."

Sixteen-year-old Qion Nicholson's only knowledge of the original march was what he learned in school. Arriving by bus from Asbury Park, N.J., he said he now feels part of that history going forward.

"I'm grateful to be living in today's era," said Nicholson, of Sayreville. "The (original) march meant so much for our country."

Andrea Williams arrived at the event with what she described as a personal history of marching for labor rights. Today as a 34-year-old Army staff sergeant from Queens, N.Y., who has served four combat tours in Iraq, Williams said she felt fulfilled by all that she saw.

The daughter of a union organizer, Williams said she marched with her mother as a child.

"My mother instilled in me a sense of action, not just that you want to do something, but act on it," she said, her husband and 4-year-old at her side.

Organizers were planning for nearly 100,000 to attend Saturday. Minutes before key speeches began, buses were backed up still trying to the reach the site. The crowd was expanding east to the base of the Washington Monument. People stood a dozen deep along the length of the Reflecting Pool in front of the Lincoln Memorial where, their forebears cooled their feet in the stifling heat and humidity of the original event.

Weather on Saturday was cool and breezy. U.S. Park Police said there were few problems and only about dozen of those attended fell out from problems with the heat.

The many elderly were assisted down grassy slopes by younger marchers to places where tree shade and folding chairs were waiting. Mixing with Martin Luther King T-shirt salesmen were activists working the crowd with literature discussing racial profiling, "stand-your-ground" laws and lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender rights.

Marchers streamed in shoulder to shoulder, clutching an array of signs promoting the march, jobs, the DREAM Act and protection of voting rights. Many posters bore the face of slain black teenager Trayvon Martin.

Organizers kept iron-fisted limits on dozens of early speakers to two minutes, cutting microphone feeds if someone went too long. People booed when Julian Bond was shut down in midsentence.

Among arrivals watching the event was Lillian Reynolds, a minister and social worker from Mount Vernon, N.Y., who said she was there because of goals still unmet.

Literacy rates remain too low and black unemployment too high, she said, moving through tight security for a place to see her son, gospel hip-hop artist JProphet, perform. "Trying to get there and not miss it," Reynolds said.

Two adult sisters attending Saturday's march echoed the view that racial unity is still a far-off dream in America. Marjorie Francis, 36, of Jackson, N.J., lamented the growth in voter identification laws across the country.

"It's a solution to a problem that didn't exist," she said. Said her sister, Maureen Francis, 39, of Monroe N.J., "you always have to be fighting for freedom."

Riding the bus from Asbury was William Griffin, 88, who also attended the original march, elbowing his way through the crowd to hear King speak.

"At the time," he said, "you wondered whether it was going to do any good, whether it was going to have any results."

Contributing: Gregg Zoroya from McLean, Va.; Kevin Penton, Asbury (N.J.) Park Press; Deidre Shesgreen; and the Associated Press