Chris Hippensteel reported from New York. JoAnna Daemmrich reported from Washington.
George Schneider looked back at the Frederick Douglass Memorial Bridge in Washington, D.C., after biking across the 1,600-foot span around lunchtime on Tuesday.
At one end of the bridge, in Anacostia Park, more than a dozen police vehicles were parked nearby. Passing cars honked and a handful of protesters held antiwar signs. TV crews stood poised to shoot video. And at the top of the bridge, silhouetted against the blue sky, appeared a speck of a figure.
"Well, he wanted attention, and he's getting attention," said Mr. Schneider, a 77-year-old retiree.
That figure, Guido Reichstadter, a 45-year-old former jeweler, has been perched there, implausibly, for the past five days. He clambered to the top of one of the bridge's steep arches on Friday and has been camped there since, protesting the U.S.-Israel war in Iran and the development of A.I.
As the White House strained to solve the standoff over the Strait of Hormuz, Congress wrestled with immigration and the State Department pondered how to handle its rift with the Pope, Mr. Reichstadter's solitary crusade, seen as principled by some and performative by others, became a growing curiosity.
The Trump era has spawned all manner of protests -- huge marches and tense scuffles and underground networks attempting to undermine immigration agents. But for a few days, this one-man demonstration has captured outsized attention, even if it was not clear how or whether it will advance the chosen causes.
Cyclists, dog-walkers and joggers crossing the bridge stopped to take photos -- or just stare at the long black banner that he had unfurled in the whipping wind to memorialize civilians killed in Iran.
Several supporters on the ground took turns shouting through a bullhorn: "We love you, Guido!" and "Thank you, Guido!" Mr. Reichstadter, barely visible, waved back.
Others were not as supportive. "I believe in protesting, but I don't believe he's doing it the right way," said Kenneth Searcy, 57, visiting from Birmingham, Ala. "It's taking up a lot of valuable resources," he noted, pointing toward the police cars, a boat patrol and a circling helicopter. "It's just not safe."
After initially closing the bridge to traffic, the police have reopened all but the pedestrian lane directly under Mr. Reichstadter. They declined to comment on their negotiations with him.
In an interview by phone on Tuesday, Mr. Reichstadter said he had ascended the arch with plans to stay only through the weekend. For the first few days, it was too cold even to sleep, and he shivered through the long nights. On Sunday, he said in a social media post that he intended to come down shortly.
But Mr. Reichstadter continued to hold out on Tuesday. The weather had warmed, he said, and though two days had passed since he exhausted his water supply, he believed he would stay at least another night.
Mr. Reichstadter, a father of two teenage children who lives in California, said that he began to think about a way to protest the war after seeing the news of Iranian schoolchildren dying from an airstrike for which the United States bears responsibility, according to an ongoing military investigation.
"Right then I knew I was going to do something," he said, his voice straining. "I just didn't know what, or when."
A day before his climb, he made a snap decision. Mr. Reichstadter said that he was confident about mounting the bridge -- he had done it once before, in 2022, roosting there for more than 24 hours to protest the overturning of Roe v. Wade. Video posted online shows him scaling the bridge with his bare hands, using a strip of metal as a climbing hold.
After he made it to the top this time, he set up a tent and began posting updates on social media.
Before the war, his advocacy had turned toward opposing A.I. After quitting his job in Florida, Mr. Reichstadter said he had relocated to San Francisco, where he has -- among other actions -- chained the doors of an OpenAI office and maintained a monthlong hunger strike outside the headquarters of Anthropic. He said that he had missed a court date related to one of those protests while camping atop the bridge.
On Tuesday afternoon, Tanya Priest, a 49-year-old retired accountant, sat on a shaded bench along the Navy Yard riverwalk. Wind gusts began to grow stronger, and she expressed concern.
"I'm worried about him," she said. "There's a person up there who's obviously going through a lot."
Mr. Reichstadter, without food and water, said he was not ready to leave just yet.
"I'm taking it day by day," he said.
Rain was in the forecast for Wednesday, Mr. Reichstadter said. Maybe, he mused, he would come down then.
Susan C. Beachy contributed research.