For protesters, President George W. Bush's visit Wednesday to Lancaster County was an occasion to voice their opposition to the war in Iraq, as well as the president's early morning veto of a children's health care bill.

For supporters, it was a chance to catch a glimpse of a beloved world leader.

But for nearly three dozen youngsters from the U-Gro child care center, located just off the president's motorcade route on Stony Battery Road, it was all about waving hand-drawn flags, singing songs and holding banners welcoming to Lancaster one of the most powerful men in the world.

"What an opportunity this is for our children," center director Liz Burkhard said while herding children ages 4 to 6 into a compact, orderly row behind the yellow police tape lining Stony Battery at Church Street.

One group of protesters quickly descended on the happy cluster, however, chanting and singing their own songs to drown out the children's voices.

"Stop brainwashing children to support a president who doesn't deserve our support," one man yelled through a bullhorn. Others told the kids to "educate yourselves" and said "your parents are killing you" by supporting Bush and the war.

That was over the line for many of the other protesters, some of whom shouted at the group to "leave the kids alone."

"I didn't like them screaming at those kids," Joanna Bouldin, field director for the Pennsylvania chapter of Americans Against Escalation in Iraq, who traveled from Philadelphia to protest Bush's visit, said later.

"But how do you wrap your head around it?" she continued. "There's that line of kids, all full of enthusiasm for their president, and he's vetoing health care for them. It just points out a deep level of hypocrisy to me."

Jeff Garis, executive director of Penn Action, also based in Philadelphia, used a bullhorn to announce Bush's decision that morning to veto children's health care funding to the crowd, many of whom booed loudly.

More than 150 people had gathered to protest, wave or quietly observe the action by the time Bush's motorcade sped by at 11:15 a.m. — nearly 30 minutes earlier than scheduled.

"Is there a chant we can think of?" one young woman quickly asked the crowd around her as the police escort came into view. "Can we shout 'End the war,' or something?"

The group of protesters settled on yelling "Go home!" Later, after Bush was out of earshot at the Jay Group headquarters, they ran through a litany of elaborate and rhyming slogans.

Bush spent more than two hours in West Hempfield Township, speaking to an invitation-only audience before being driven back to Air Force One at Lancaster Airport.

By the time the president's motorcade headed out, dozens of the people waiting on the expansive west lawn at the Hempfield Sports Complex had left, while dozens more had arrived after being stuck in traffic.

Police on the scene said all intersections crossing the president's route from Route 30 to the Jay Group were blocked about 30 minutes before he arrived. The intersections were blocked again nearly an hour before the president left.

Still, the U-Gro children weren't alone on the sidelines. Ann Merced of Landisville brought her 4-year-old daughter Erin to see the president.

"I prefer not say" which side of the debate she supports, Merced said, "but what an opportunity for a civic lesson for my daughter.

"She can see for herself that, in this country, you can protest something or support it, whichever you want," she added. "Although I'm not sure she knows who the president is."

Erin, sitting contentedly on a blanket with a small picnic lunch, just smiled and promised to wave as the president drove by.

Dennis Oatman, a veteran of the Iraq war, proudly said his daughter, Danielle, is only 3 years old and has already seen Bush three times.

"The first two times, Mommy had her," he said. "I was in Iraq. … But as soon as I said 'president,' her eyes lit up."

Oatman, who said he was overseas when Danielle was born, got into several arguments with Bush protesters over the course of the day.

"Those caskets do not represent me," he shouted at one point, gesturing at several flag-draped coffins along the street. "Me and my battle buddies, we all came home."

Bill Adams of Millersville had a different story. His son, Brent, was killed in action in Iraq in 2005.

A letter Adams wrote to Bush, "as one father to another," was hand-delivered to the president by friend Sherry Wolfe during the Jay Group meeting.

"He said he would read it," Adams said.

Adams said he wants closure — and an explanation — for his son's death. Despite official reports and firsthand accounts of Brent Adams' death at Ramadi on Dec. 1, 2005, Maj. Gen. Rick Lynch, commander of U.S. troops south of Baghdad, has stated that no U.S. troops were killed at that place and time.

"There doesn't seem to be any ambiguity about it," Bill Adams said Wednesday. "It's a marginalization of truth for political ends."

Signs were in abundance, ranging from terse messages like "Let's Try Peace," "I Want My Country Back" and "Healthcare Not Warfare" to longer musings like "Kill one person and it's murder. Kill thousands and it's foreign policy."

Nick Meley of Columbia summed up his opinion on a large wooden sign: "Worst President Ever."

"I didn't want to get into a lot of semantics," he said. "I wanted to be blunt."

Meley said he painted his message large in hopes Bush would see it.

"It's impossible that the guy doesn't know what he's doing," Meley said. "People think he's really stupid, but I think he's calculating. A lot of people are making all kinds of money off this war."

"Most of us are here because we don't understand Bush's policies," added Pamela Carnes, a Manheim Township student with Students for a Democratic Society and the Lancaster Coalition for Peace & Justice.

"He always talks about family values. … But since when has murder been more of a family value than children and their health?"

Josh Graupera, from the same two organizations, said he was disappointed that so many protesters who'd planned to attend the event were unable to get there once the roads were closed about 30 minutes before Bush's motorcade arrived.

"It's a good turnout," Graupera said. "But we expected more."

Baseball collector Jeff Heilman of Elizabethtown said he wasn't there to make a political statement.

"I was hoping for the slim possibility of an autograph," he said, holding up a large photo of Bush with a group of Baseball Hall of Famers taken in 2004.

Bush didn't stop to sign autographs, however.

"This is my first motorcade," added Jane Harmon, who lives just up the street on Stony Battery. "It was kind of cool. It's not often you can walk out your back door and see the president."

Jerry Lee Miller, nattily dressed in a suit and tie among a crowd largely dressed for a summer picnic, smiled as he held his hand-made sign protesting the war.

"I feel strongly that democracy is something worth keeping," he said. "But it's very rapidly dissipating in this country."

Miller said he didn't know if the president would even notice him in the crowd, but "at least I'll know I did it."

Meanwhile, back on Marietta Pike by St. Leo the Great Church, Ruth Neuman held her protest sign toward traffic as she walked with her daughter, Jill Neuman, and granddaughter, Zoe Biles.

They were among the people turned away by police as they tried to make it to the protest site.

"We just decided to stop our car and protest here," Jill Neuman said. "We've gotten a lot of thumbs up along the way and a few icy stares."

"But nobody hit us," Ruth Neuman added.

Jill said she's worried about her daughter's future and the impact Bush will have on future generations.

"We're three generations of protesters here — ages 78 to 3," she said.

The Neumans were disgusted that widespread blockades prevented them and so many others from joining the main protest. They suspected it was a means of controlling the media images from Bush's visit.

"Of course they're going to say that not many protesters showed up," Jill Neuman said. "This president will make Herbert Hoover look good."

Another would-be protester showed up with his dog, Sadie, and the Neumans told him they were blocked out of the Stony Battery protest area.

"Rather 1984-ish, isn't it?" said Henry, who declined to give a last name. "You can't get there because the Secret Service is doing a good job of squashing the protesters."

Intelligencer Journal staff writer Susan Lindt contributed to this story.

E-mail: tknapp@lnpnews.com