Josh Imhof | staff writer |

Dozens of bodies laid motionless across the asphalt at the intersection of Forbes and Morewood avenues on Oct. 3, as evening traffic on one of Pittsburgh’s busiest roads came to a halt.

Their blood-red palms were strewn beside them and facing toward the sky. A woman in a wheelchair sat with her mouth agape and head contorted backward.

These people were not dead, though. Their hands were not slick with blood – but paint to symbolize the blood of those who have died.

A year ago on Monday, Oct. 7, Hamas soldiers crossed Israel’s borders and killed more than 1,200 men, women and children. The attack was horrific and added to a centuries-long history of bloodshed between Israel and Palestine, one that has continued for over a year.

As of Oct. 1, the conflict has resulted in the death of more than 41,500 Palestinian people according to the Palestinian Health Ministry, sparking outrage around the world, including Pittsburgh.

At 5:15 p.m. on Oct. 3, protesters began gathering outside of the Carnegie Art Museum in Oakland. The protest and subsequent march was organized by the Students for Justice in Palestine, a non-university affiliated student organization at University of Pittsburgh.

The protesters demanded a full U.S. arms embargo against Israel, a permanent ceasefire and an end to the occupation of Palestine, according to the Students for Justice in Palestine’s Instagram page.

Protesters came from all ages and demographics, including students, university faculty, parents and other residents of Pittsburgh. Eliana Meding, a Duquesne University sophomore biomedical engineering major, learned about the protest on Thursday and decided to attend.

“I’m here because I believe in the cause. I believe that what Israel is doing in Palestine is a genocide. There’s no other definition or word for it,” Meding said.

Meding said it has been difficult to come to terms with what is going on in Israel as a Jewish person.

“I used to believe that Israel was this magical saving grace and then I educated myself and learned that this is nothing but stolen land and genocide of the native people,” she said. “It’s something I really had to face.”

Wren Kidder, a Pittsburgh resident, was also at the protest. He held a toddler in one hand and a picket sign in the other that read, “Not 1 More Dime for Bibi’s Crime,” — a reference to Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netenyahu.

“The most painful thing is seeing all the orphans all alone in this world and still being bombed. There’s fundamentally nothing different between my son and a Palestinian or Lebanese child,” Kidder said. “If he was there he could wake up one day, and he’d be dead. He’d still be being bombed.”

Many of the people in the crowd were wearing black and white Keffiyehs, a traditional Middle-Eastern headdress, to show their support and unity for the cause. Others carried Palestinian flags, as well as signs calling for an end to the war. Some even held up pictures of those who had been lost to the conflict, many of them children.

As the protesters began to march, chants accompanied by a snare drum echoed down Forbes Avenue and off the walls of buildings.

“Hey U.S., your hands are red. 40,000 people dead.”

“Israel bombs, U.S.A pays. $10,000,000 a day. How many kids did you kill today?”

“From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free.”

Protesters on bikes led the way as they lined up across intersections to block off oncoming traffic. They marched toward Carnegie Mellon University, where there was a large police presence.

Officers from CMU, Pitt, and the City of Pittsburgh Police Bureau were all there, many in cars and some on motorcycles, all of whom declined to comment on the situation.

They sat at upcoming intersections, on the side of the road and also trailed the group in vehicles. Officers could also be seen on top of CMU’s six-story Warner Hall.

At the Alpha Epsilon Pi house, a Jewish fraternity that sits near the corner of the intersection, many students gathered to watch. A rabbi from CMU blew into a shofar, a symbolic ram’s horn as part of a ritual performed during Rosh Hashanah.

CMU freshman Simon Reich, was one of the students present. He said that despite the protest remaining peaceful, he believed some of the chants were difficult to hear, particularly the ones using the term “Intifada.”

“It has a negative connotation. Definitionally, it’s not particularly inflammatory. Historically, it means violence against Israelis,” he said.

The term translates to “uprising” in Arabic and has been associated with multiple resistance movements by Palestinian forces against Israeli occupation, the second of which killed over 1,000 soldiers and civilians.

Many people gave speeches using a megaphone, including Elyanna Sharbaji, a recent Pitt graduate. Sharbaji is a Syrian refugee and said she came to the protest to give her family and those still in dangerous warzones a voice.

“I still have my family in Syria. I have family in Lebanon. Now, because of what’s happening in Gaza, they’re being attacked everyday,” Sharbaji said. “My family in Lebanon are at risk of being killed because they can’t go back to Syria either.”

Sharbaji spoke in front of a purple LED-lit backdrop from a pumpkin carving event on Pitt’s campus. “Sweet Child O’ Mine,” by Guns and Roses blasted in the background.

“It feels like America is separated from the whole world,” she said.“Everyone in the Middle East is under attack. Everyone is dying and they’re being killed by American bombs, while everyone [at the fall event] is celebrating.”

 The march ended at Forbes Avenue and Bigelow Boulevard, where the protesters once again circled up and blocked off the entire intersection for about an hour. It concluded peacefully at around 8:45 p.m.

View a gallery here with photos from the event.