The logistics were absurd. The goal was a continuous line of held hands from New York City to Long Beach, California. Participants registered for a spot, paying ten dollars to pledge their place. On May 25, they gathered along mapped routes on highways and backroads. In cities, the line was dense. In vast stretches of the American West, it became symbolic. Buses shuttled people to fill deserts. In some places, people stood hundreds of feet apart, connected by long ribbons or ropes. The chain was never physically unbroken.
It was a spectacle of pure intention. Celebrities anchored high-profile spots. Bruce Springsteen and Mickey Mouse held hands in New Jersey. People arrived with lawn chairs and coolers. For six minutes, starting at 3 PM Eastern, they held hands and sang "We Are the World." Then it was over. The event raised about $15 million for anti-hunger charities, a fraction of its goal, after costs were paid. It was criticized as a feel-good stunt. But for those in line, it was a tangible, if fleeting, act of collective imagination. They were not a perfect chain, but for a moment, they formed a visible argument—a fragile, fragmented, earnest line drawn across a continent, proposing that connection itself could be a form of work.