The Supreme Court façade is under construction, and so it is covered by a transparent scrim with the image of the stately columns and pediment — a kind of ghost of the court building. On this sunny, unseasonably warm February day crowds — and ghosts — filled the plaza, standing, chanting, speaking out in support of voting rights. Inside the building, arguments in Shelby v Holder — a case challenging Section 5 of the Voting Rights Act — had wrapped up.

In the crowd were busloads of people from Alabama (where the case originated), noted civil rights leaders, labor union members, reporters, and representatives of groups like NCJW who came to show their support for what is arguably the most effective civil rights law ever — the Voting Rights Act. Standing there, listening to the speeches, what struck me were the ghosts — the ghost of the court building and the ghosts of those who had given their lives to win voting rights.

Among the colorful signs raised above the gathering were yellow signs with photos of those “Martyrs” — Medgar Evers, Andrew Goodman, James Chaney, and Michael Schwerner. People targeted and brutally murdered for the crime of registering black voters in the South and speaking up for the most basic of democratic rights. I felt their presence keenly as well as that of all of the other women and men who gave their lives, served prison time, lost their livelihoods, and made great sacrifices to end discrimination at the ballot box.

My colleagues who were inside the court had worrisome reports of hostile questioning and comments on the part of several justices. As with so many important cases, this too is likely to be a split decision, one way or another. I was proud that NCJW had weighed in as a friend of the court on an amicus brief with the civil rights community in support of voting rights. And I was proud, too, that our NCJW foremothers were strong and steadfast in their support for civil rights and voting rights — their ghosts were there as well on that plaza.